I Was Wild, Savage, Human

Red is soothing (to me). The same is true of sex, laughter, creative ripping (paper or fabric), and of reading and writing containing the aforesaid bits. So, when my flesh and bones hurt so bad that sleep is an unbelievable dream that could only happen to extremely lucky fictitious characters, I call on red and we go wild.

I’ve been in ridiculous pain for a few days. The throbbing started under my left scapula, then it spread to my left hip, my left gluteus maximus (I’ve always loved that word), the back of my left leg… all the way to my toes *red, red, red*.

Still, I’m not unhappy. I’ve had moments when I was angrier than a mantis in heat who has just discovered he is a male, but not unhappy. I’ve written a lot of fiction, stitched several poem bits, and blacked out (red-out?) seven or nine pieces.

There were tense moments when I cursed Comfort (in creatively ripped red):

Another time, I crafted a blackout poem that is all sex (joy and sweat and screams and bliss-filled old lies howled out of pleasure-drunk-panting lips):

Earlier, when pain made me shake and shrouded my all in chills, I laughed (crying cackle-coated tears), lay on the bathroom floor—cool tiles *and the right book* are such a blessing… Then, after Laural Merlington finished narrating the 3rd chapter of A Stroke of Midnight, I dragged my flesh and bones to my writing space, and with hands that barely shook, I red-out a note about Pain and Me:

*the background is from Vampiros, illustrated by Meritxell Ribas Puigmal*

Things are better. Some of my bits are still screaming. But something tells me that tonight, I’ll kiss the Sandman on the mouth… and will both like it.

33 thoughts on “I Was Wild, Savage, Human

  1. From the pain, comes the inspiration of love and art. Do wish that you didn’t have to suffer so, Magaly. May the rest of the week, be blessed with love and sweet dreams.

  2. I am sorry to hear of your pain, Magaly. I so admire the way you fight against it’s domination. Lately, my own experience of unrelenting pain wrung out every shred of creativity I possess, so I know how much it takes to transform it into something beautiful.

  3. Sending healing vibes your way, your pain does turn out some awesome red reads. I enjoyed your remembrance poem below garnished with rosemary.

  4. I so wish we could take away this pain from you!if we could divide it up between all of your friends, we would not have much to bear but, maybe, you would be free. Sending big love with gentle hugs.

    • You are such a wonder, my Sharon. And I’m extremely lucky to have you in my life. Very, very lucky.

      P.S. When the pain was worse, I wrote a short story where pain is used as fuel. It has to be filtered before the energy can become beneficial, and the filtering was always done by people with enough love in their hearts and magic in their blood to remind energy of its foundation. I will share it after I polish it a bit. I think you might like it. 🙂

  5. Sharing your pain*but down my right side* ….sharing your poems in my heart. It is an awful paradox that your pain is the muse of your poetry XXX

    • Well, if we put my left side and your right side together we’ll have a whole body that is (mostly) free of pain. 😀

      About the the muse and poetry, I like to think that the muse just does whatever she can with energy (terrible energy but still energy) that is already there and must go somewhere.

  6. Damn Pain!!! I wish I could take it away from you Magaly!!!
    The art you have created, is amazing!! Truly amazing!!
    I have to say, I started to cry, when I read about you, laying on the bathroom floor, with the cool tiles! I always did that, when I was really ill! My mom didn’t understand, but I got such comfort, laying on the bathroom floor, with the cool tiles!
    Love you! Big Hugs! 🙂

    • I think people get scare when they see someone, especially someone they love, in serious pain. And if there is nothing they can do, it’s even worse. Making noises and pretty much twitching on the floor, when the pain is really bad, helps me (as you already know). But I’ve seen the fear and desperation on William’s face when he sees me like that. It’s not so bad right now. And the writing and crafting keeps my mind busy. In a way, I owe the crafting relief to you. So, see? You already did something to take the pain away, my beloved friend. 🙂

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