Bee Sting...
The bee sting,in actuality,is sharp and its effect,instanteneous.The pain reveberates through my veins,agonizing messages,with millisecond static inteference as my brain tries to ignore the painful missal...or so I imagine. Assuming I skip down the dismal yellow brick road of my imagination,I'll eventually come to realize that I was actually stung a few days ago,and the static buzzed for nearly two days before my neurons gaily tap danced into my brain to announce in a singsong voice what premonition had already whispered to me...bleh
Ironically,the deliverer of the sting dies shortly after the release of its one and only means of defence.I knew that.You see,this isn't the first time I've been stung..twice,probably thrice before,I've played host to some cute bees barb,and in those few encounters,I've gleaned a sadistic tolerance to them. Nothing feels as good as a jagged striated barb pierce my flesh and linger,its poison seeping into my bloodstream,enough to cause discomfort,insufficient to do considerable damage...just the way I like it.
This time,however,while the sadistic enjoyment still remains,the bee hasn't died yet...which is surprising...could this be a unique bee? I've heard a few tales,but never experienced it first hand. "It" being the matrixlike "bullet time" effect that the bee and its victim find themselves in uncertainty...WTF??? why aren't I dead yet? Imagine a defeated samurai redeeming his honor ,by commiting harakiri and still living ,staring at his spilt entrails and gaping torso...imagine his bewildered opponet,all traces of triumph wiped off his face,facade of honor sunken...I know,I know...improbable bullshit,but thats what I feel like,o.k? And the silence is quite permeable,but I'm scared to be the one to break it...my pleasure in this sort of sadism borders on orgasmic. I suppose I'll just live for the moment and hope it lasts long enough for me to pull my head outta my ass,where its residing at the time of the post.