Inflicting pain on yourself doesn’t necessarily mean the worst. Often it is done for pleasure. The pleasure of pain which others try to obviate. The innocence of being a child, falling on the solid ground, scraping our kneels against Mother Earth. The feeling of warmth blood dripping down our leg slowly. Watching and relishing the feeling of pain every minute. Not many would correspond with me on this statement... Then again, I wouldn’t be the one to care. The metal slowly penetrating the layers of Me. The sign of blood is the sign of pleasure. Even during sex, pain can be a good sign. The cracking of the whip upon your skin. The burn of the rope on your wrist. All pleasurable to some. Pain is more than a feeling, it often overcomes us and controls us. We can conquer many task with pain. We must invite pain into our lives more often, with out it, this world would be a sexless, non-adventuress life.