Whispers and Pain

iv already failed. i said i would post at least once a week, and here it is quite a time since my last post. shame on me. despite the haphazardness of my previous rant, it had at least some uniqueness to it. i credit all of that possible uniqueness to the venue in which i wrote. sitting on a third story balcony overlooking beautiful trees and homes, with a soft cool breeze tantalizing my skin, brings about a much more inquisitive and intriguing mood than slouching on a couch under an awkwardly bright light in indoor heat. sooooo, i have nothing on my mind to discuss. of course my mind has yet to sleep in years, but the majority of my thoughts are too personal to blog about. they involve people id rather not publicize. therefore to jog my psyche i have proposed a question to several people in relation to the word 'whisper.' i found myself playing "Careless Whisper" quite a bit today, mainly Seether's version so i thought it was appropriate. as is, the word 'whisper' is such a beauty. you nearly have to whisper to say it correctly. brings to mind the flow of wind through willows. my comrades mentioned gently , softly , WHAM, and the uselessness to care what they feel when hearing a specific word. Gently and softly i would definitely agree with, for as i said before, its a word that you must perform when reciting. malicious whispers exist but elicit cringes and fear. im sure you can, at least, imagine this genre. the movies do their best to utilize the malicious or threatening whisper. "if you make a sound, i'll slit your throat." i have to argue a person's imagination is in fact reality, and "reality is stranger than fiction." sitting here i can visualize, hear, and feel a father close to my face, precisely and softly whispering his plans to burn our home down, and kill my mother. whisper necessary? no, of course not. he would have counted on my preconception of a whisper, beautiful between lovers, and shattered it with the whisper's revelation. i can shield myself from a scream, but a blow to my psyche? unbearable.
i feel a brief shift in discussion.
a blow to my psyche......a mind f*** . this damage immobilizes. however, i live to feel it. this must be the ideal description of personal dysfunction. i thrive on thrill and contemplation. make me think. make me cerebrate until my mind is mush. make me recoil. coerce my pining. drive me more insane than i was prior. force me to experience something other than SELF-inflicted desolation. captivate my intrigue. i am a masochist. want me to fall in love with you? mind rape me. perhaps someone will wean me from my desire, my emotional sustenance. as for now, this is as close i've come to describing what lies under the skin, what makes the skin tingle in anticipation. i can't say my dysfunction arouses joy, rather it is a mere necessity to feel alive. hell, it's a necessity to feel.