Worth

He spanked me last night. He spanked me this morning. He'll spank me this
afternoon. He'll spank me perhaps now. What difference does it make whether
he spanks or doesn't?

A set of hard stern smacks transformed into yet another meaningless act that he
performs for me. He hates me. He doesn't hit me in anger. He yells. He
hurts my feelings. He reminds me of Herr Zeller from The Sound of Music saying
that nothing in Austria has changed. If nothing has changed, why does he need
to reassure me? Why does he choose my life for me? Why does he not allow
freedom of motion to choose and decide, to fail and succeed?

It hurts that he trusts me so little that he wishes to chain me. I am not a
slave to his wishes, nor his abandon. Why harm me? What has he to gain from
this course of action?

Harming me, I die slowly. He loses me as I retreat to existing as an empty
shell of myself. I am saved, but dead.

Harm, one piece out of a large cycle of destruction, yields loss. The
short-tempered cockroach aliens with an inferiority complex in the movie Men in
Black thrived on carnage and destruction. Thieves and others support ways of
harm for their survival. They feed off of the existence of others. To exist
as one of these is to live and die poorly. Supporting such destruction and
harm constitutes death and loss of us.

How will the cockroach aliens survive when they have eaten all that is worth
eating? How does a thief live when all that is worth stealing has been stolen?
I pity beings of harm for their impending yet necessary loss of challenge.

Yes, he harms me with his words. What will he do when I am dead to him? I
continue to hide from him. I change myself to protect me. In changing, do I
become less than me?

I hide me from the world. Sometimes accidentally, I hide me from me. This
lack of contact with my own desires frightens me. My desires shape an integral
part of my identity. I fear losing me to those around me. I can't find me. I
don't feel my desires easily. Have I deceived myself and participated in a
cycle of harm against myself? Am I dissolved into a bag of mostly water?

Have you ever fought with yourself to locate your own desires only to find
emptiness where once a field of blooming flowers existed? Am I the epitome of
empti? It's a sad sick feeling to know that you are dead to one or a few, that
perhaps you are dead to all.

Over his lap now, he spanks me through my many trains of thought. The thoughts
ebb and flow with the cadence of his hands. His caresses empty of meaning. He
exists in emptiness for me; yet I care for him. How could this paradox exist?
It hurts me. He hurts me; yet I care for him. His hand resembles the toughest
sharpest thorns. His face, once the most beautiful of roses and now a mass of
sickly rotting flesh, disgusts me. His tongue, the center of his disease,
reeks of foulness.

We remain together, pulling on our yoke through life. At every rest point, at
every hilltop, in every valley, on every flat resting place, I search
relentless for the separating agent which will free me from him. I desire my
freedom to live.

The spanks continue. The thorns bite. The reek putrefies. The search
continues.

The End.

By Huh Chuh @ huhchuh@yahoo.com © September 2002


P.S.

Description to Scene in The Sound of Music that I refer to in the above
snippet.

Herr Zeller suspects that the Captain desires to evade the Nazi orders
commanding that the Captain serve as an officer for the Nazi regime. The
Captain, his family of seven children, and Max discreetly leave the Captain's
home after dark in the early night. Herr Zeller with his small army catches
them leaving quietly. Herr Zeller questions the Captain and Max. Maria, the
Captain's new wife, supports her husband.