The Man who could not feel....
There was once born a man. Impervious to pain. Anything he had tried to do to himself that should feel painful was not. All he felt was a deafening numbness to his entire being.
And then He fell in love. All he could do then was to chase after it.
His Muse, who was conceited and could only give contempt then asked him. Prove your love to me.
He gave his flowers, he tried his poetry, he tried his music.
None gave him the love he wanted.
And then she said, Show me your pain and I will reward you with a kiss.
A kiss, she said. How wonderful....but he could not feel pain.
He went to the butcher and told him, Cut out my hands. The blood flood and his digits were mangled, but he could feel nothing.
He went to the doctor and told him, cut out my heart. the doctor did, he cut it out and it was still beating. He could still feel nothing.
He went to the cannibal and told him. Eat my eyes from its sockets. He did consume it with gusto and yet the man could feel no pain.
With his eyes being eaten, the muse saw what he has become in his quest to show her his pain.
You have grown even more grotesque than before, and even before your mad quest you were nothing more than an insignificant twist that I could twirl around my finger.
And then he could feel pain. From his mangled arms, his ripped out heart and eaten eyes. The pain was excruciating. Wonderfully excruciating. He could feel pain.
From His gouged out eyes, all he could see was searing hot pain.
And everyone saw the man weep in blood, on his knees. Finally dying.
His muse never gave him his kiss. All that was left for the man who felt no pain. Was pain.
And then He fell in love. All he could do then was to chase after it.
His Muse, who was conceited and could only give contempt then asked him. Prove your love to me.
He gave his flowers, he tried his poetry, he tried his music.
None gave him the love he wanted.
And then she said, Show me your pain and I will reward you with a kiss.
A kiss, she said. How wonderful....but he could not feel pain.
He went to the butcher and told him, Cut out my hands. The blood flood and his digits were mangled, but he could feel nothing.
He went to the doctor and told him, cut out my heart. the doctor did, he cut it out and it was still beating. He could still feel nothing.
He went to the cannibal and told him. Eat my eyes from its sockets. He did consume it with gusto and yet the man could feel no pain.
With his eyes being eaten, the muse saw what he has become in his quest to show her his pain.
You have grown even more grotesque than before, and even before your mad quest you were nothing more than an insignificant twist that I could twirl around my finger.
And then he could feel pain. From his mangled arms, his ripped out heart and eaten eyes. The pain was excruciating. Wonderfully excruciating. He could feel pain.
From His gouged out eyes, all he could see was searing hot pain.
And everyone saw the man weep in blood, on his knees. Finally dying.
His muse never gave him his kiss. All that was left for the man who felt no pain. Was pain.