skins, 15/07/2017

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I rip out the skin on my right-hand fingertips. I don’t know where I am, but I guess it’s a private place. I feel comfortable to dedicated myself entirely to my addiction. I pull the endless skins. I am amazed because normally I can’t pull that much of skin. But now I can pull them up to my palm. I continued, astonished. I can pull my skin through my entire forearm. I see many bloody layers of skin. They are like book pages. I keep pulling them. I enjoy it at the begging, but after it turns to be torturous. If I go on, I’ll tear apart my arm. I can’t stop myself. It is an uncontrollable and sadist pleasure. I feel my flesh beating, the warm blood running inside me. I look to my arm and don’t recognize it. However I keep ripping out my skin, I never see my bones. With so many skin layers, my arm gets fatter and fatter. Suddenly I wake up in great affliction. I feel my arm throbbing. I look it relieved. Now I recognized it: my arm.