Balls of Bone & Scars of Silk
How often is too often to play with my scar before it gets weird?
Where would I even go to find the answer to a question like that? I mean without me ending up wearing a ball-gag and buttless chaps in some basement dungeon in New Jersey, role-playing with a 54-year-old amputee hooker named Myrna? It’s not to say I’m not open to the experience, but well, yes, OK that’s exactly what I’m saying, sorry Myrna, no sale. I’m sure I could find that type of action without having to look to terribly hard if one were so inclined…. after all, hobbies are important.
That’s not what I’m on about…. Seriously – Dear Abby, nothin – Ann Landers, bupkis – Miss Manners, nada – Dr Laura, negatory – Dr Phil, nope – Dr Joyce brothers, no, Dr Ruth Westheimer, isn’t she dead?
Here’s the thing – now that I have one of these;
.I’m talking about the big scar on my chest, just never you mind about them also having removed both my genitals and my face… that’s for another days discussion. Anyways – have you ever had a big scar? Not to get into a mine is bigger than yours contest but mine is just under 12 inches, 13.5 if you include down to the bottom of where the chest tube was in, but I don’t count that because there is a break between the two. What’s happened is the skin had hardened and gone utterly, completely, silky soft – huh? How can something simultaneously harden and soften? (Insert crude joke here)
Settle down chimichanga, let me tell you – think of my chest……. mmmmm, my chest….. now think of a big ass scar on said chest – ok not THAT big, bring it down a notch skipper, picture it as about the size of a footlong Subway Tuna Melt, mmmm, tunamelt – so now, the scar club for men includes Harry Potter, Al Capone and me… ok not important, but believe me – you do NOT want to accidentally show up at that support group meeting.
The scar sits on its own, an isolated island – a beacon, signifying pain and adversity – all the people of scar-topia are now trapped, trapped within a wall that all the outlying inhabitants of dermis have erected, a wall constructed of hardened skin, shielding the innocent dermis villagers from the evilness that lives within scar-topia. So there sits this Berlin-wall, perimeter-fence skin thing that completely surrounds the actual scar, basically what we have here is an incredibly long, drawn out way of saying, the skin along the edges of the scar are hard. I wish I was a better writer, curse these flights of fancy…..
BUT, the people who live in scar-topia, well there weren’t all evil and they liked nice things just as much as the next guy… so, accepting the fact that they would never again be like the brothers and sisters who now surround them… do you understand me – families were torn apart here!
Resigning themselves to a lifetime of seclusion and isolation, the scar-topians constructed a silky smooth dome to cover the entire top of scar-topia, from the very hard edge on the western lands all the way across to the tip of the eastern narrows. WHAT? — What the hell is he talking about, is anyone on the same page, are we even still reading from the same book?
Alright, bloody hell I try and create a world of adventure for you, danger, excitement, love, loss… anyone can spit out a straight regurgitation of the facts, but it takes a sensitive artist to make the words come alive, mak… YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN – Just tell us what you want us to know and wrap it up already….
OK well, that’s not hurtful, fine, have it your way, you don’t have to tell me twice, I’ll just get on with it shall I? No sense wasting…. ARRRRGHHHH TELL US!!!
Alright, the scar is quite hard all around the outsides but across the top it is unbelievably smooth, like really unnaturally smooth, it’s kind of soft and I can’t stress how perfectly smooth it feels to the touch. Something else weird, there is no feeling across the top of the scar, it’s almost like the flesh is dead or something. It’s become like the hole in your mouth after you lose a tooth, it feels a little weird, but you just can’t stop using your tongue to mess with the gap. I can’t stop messing around with my scar, yes I said it. This is NOT a euphemism, – I can’t stop stroking the scar.
It just feels so foreign, and don’t even get me started on the huge, weird ball of bone forming at the bottom of my ribs where they were sawed apart, now that is plain freakish, just ask my family they are uber-creeped out by it….
You can touch it – for a dollar.
Have a Great Day