Fiddling in the lion's cage, laughing at the gorilla, and all sorts of fun and games.

I noticed this article last evening, very late I do believe. I had heard about this not so long ago, perhaps at an earlier stage in development. And, I believe I had stumbled upon something about it or like it much further back. My mind nibbled the notion. I have played with scenarios, contemplated, meditated, and prayed about this little gulpable magic carpet ride to innocence. Could it be so easy? Could it work? If it worked, what would that mean? If it only half worked, what would that mean? After great consideration, and assuming beyond the capacities of the medication as I last believed them to be and into a perfect end to those things I see, dream, smell, taste, and feel, which burn as fire and ensure my belief in lycanthropy, “No”. Not just a “No.”, but a resounding “NO!”.

First, I am what I have eaten and seen. Scarred, some say and I do not deny. So are my hands, legs, and arms. I have very thick skin, hearty and enduring, even boiling water does not burn it, even when I pour it over the same area, twice, in a few moments time, while still half asleep and trying to catch some meaning to local and incessant girl squirrel chatter while trying to make us some hot tea. I barely noticed even on that cold morn. Certain parts of my mind, body, spirit, and soul are thus hearty, if that lends to a type of weakness as well. The scarring is not so harsh on the eye as it is on the senses of the over sensitive. Even should I not bite, the skin of this shark will cause bleeding in the fair notioned, thin skinned, weak, and feeble. I can neither change that past or process, and would not if I could do so. I was forged, by hammer and fire, cold, imbued with carbon, cleaned of oxygen, formed, tightened, polished and outfitted, and finally sharpened. Some say I have become dross. Even I believed this for a time and attempted in no simple easy or painless manners to unmake this Master’s product. Either His will or His product was too strong, and even I will concede that a condemned man may only be executed twice. No, I would not unmake, nor deign to lay my hand or mind against the Master’s plan again.

Nor would I recommend it. If you do not hurt, you do not grow, learn, or change behavior. That is almost a text book definition of death. Go there and you will stay there. As for my part, I will leave you there and have no part of one who goes there. As well, it is my suspicion that should you be able to drop the conscious memory, you will never escape paying the dues. And more, those dues are quite expensive, more so if you do not know the bill collector is on his way, may (will, and often) drop in unannounced, and you find that his demands for payment or unequivocal, your wants and needs fall before these, and there is no negotiation.