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my own personal nirvana

 What is it that gives someone the desire to put their own body to tests that are deemed "abnormal" by modern society?  What is it that makes us get tattooed and pierced, as opposed to climbing a mountain, or swimming across a lake?  Each person has their own reason for doing the things that they do, no matter how similar these reasons may appear, be it reasons of mental health, or even just cosmetic, everyone's reasoning is unique.

 Just over a year ago I was first introduced to "modern suspension".  Seeing one of my best friends suspended in the air by really nothing more than their own flesh and sheer will power intrigued me to no end.  Getting tattooed and pierced had filled certain voids inside of me that I doubt anything else could have done.  But there was still something missing.  There was still a lack of understanding of the word "bliss".  I began to pester my friend continuously over his reasoning behind doing suspensions and the feeling that it gave him, I finally came to the conclusion that this was something I needed to do.

 Something about the wait seemed to be never ending.  In October of 2001 I was able to do a pull with another friend of mine.  This gave me a taste of what I had been looking for.  So here I sat just a few days ago waiting for Toronto's Suscon to happen, so I'd have the chance to hang.  But something odd happened.  I received a phone call that pretty much forced me to arrange a show for I Was Cured to perform at in just a few short days.  The whole while that I arranged everything (assuring that the group would have a private room away from everything else to work and keep sterile) I never really thought that I'd have a chance to suspend before Suscon.  But alas, I did.

 The head of I Was Cured (who is also a friend of mine) ended up staying over at my apartment the night before the show, and we sat up until well past sunrise on my balcony just talking about how the group was formed, my reasons for wanting to do suspensions, how everything is done, and a whole lot of pointless stuff that can be expected when two people talk for hours straight.  It became apparent that I would be the one doing the suspension at the show the next day.  So I decided on a suicide suspension (for reasons that I'm still not sure of myself).  So, being that it was extremely late, and I knew that some rest would be needed for the next day, we both set off to our respective sleeping quarters.

 The next day came, and there was a whole lot of running around for us all to get supplies.  I was told that I should drink lots of water to help clean out my system (I swear I drank at least five litres) and I was also given the most vile drink I've ever had in my life (an ever so lovely mix of lemon, water, maple syrup, and cayenne pepper) which was also used to help clean out the toxins from my body (although I think it was just so they could see the look upon my face when I drank it).  So with all that said and done, and myself making retching noises from what I will now and forever call "the devil's drink", we headed off to the site where I'd be hanging.  At first we agreed upon doing it inside, but that idea was quickly scrapped when we realized that the ceilings of the building were a little to low, so it was decided that I'd be hung from the fire escape outside.

 Myself and the two friends who were to help me out went to the room that was allotted to us where my back was thoroughly cleaned and marked for the hooks.  Although I'd had hooks put in before, I was still nervous about getting them put in again.  I remembered that when I did my pull, that the piercing wasn't painful at all, nor was the actual stretching of the skin, but I was extremely nervous about not having anything beneath my feet.  But when the hooks were going in I remembered something that I was told the day before, "If I ever stop getting nervous before I hang, I know that I've gone completely crazy."  So with that thought in my mind I found it much easier to take the feeling of having hooks go through the flesh of my back.  Upon standing I had the initial feeling of not being able to move my shoulders properly, my body knew that there was something there that just wasn't right,  but after walking around for a little while I got used to the feeling and was able  to move around normally.  I was then hooked up to a metal bar that was to be attached to the rig and was told to pull on it a lot so that my back would get used to the feeling of tension.  After about fifteen to twenty minutes of that, it was time for me to be hooked up to the rig.

 After a quick walking back and forth motion I began to lift off of the ground.  For about a minute all that I could think was that the hooks would bend, or my skin would tear causing me to fall to the ground.  But along with the horror I also received a sudden rush of adrenaline, which was also followed by what seemed like a total release of all feelings inside of my body.  I had reached that blissful state that I had waited for for so long.  It's extremely hard to explain it, and even if I could I'm really not sure if I would.  What I felt was personal to me.  At this point, when my body relaxed, I began to start swinging myself and pushing off of the walls with my feet, because it would've become slightly boring just hanging there doing nothing.  But after a while the rope was lowered, and my feet touched the ground again.

 Once the hooks were taken out (including one that I bent horribly) I had to get "bled out" which essentially is a none-to-pleasant massage that pushes all of the air pockets and a lot of blood out of the holes in your skin.  After yelling obscenities just for fun, and bashing my head off of a fridge, everything was done.  I had achieved what I needed to do.  I had reached my own personal nirvana.  And I started to realize that this could be very addictive.

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submitted by: Anonymous
on: 27 June 2002
in Ritual

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Artist: martini+and+philipbarbosa
Studio: no+studio
Location: St.Catharines%2C+ON

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