Not only a Human Being

I am marked by a tattoo on my hip which reads 'I am not only a human
being, I am a piece of meat'— a Charley Shiveley quote I chanced upon
years ago in some long-forgotten book. These words seduced me from the instant I
picked up their scent, the blood rushing to my cheeks as I choked and
stammered to swallow them down. I am not only a human being, I am a
piece of meat. They tasted delicious, succulent and fresh as I rolled
them around my tastebuds. I scribbled them phrase in countless
notebooks, emailed them to friends on the other side of the world, and
spent hours trying to figure out why even just thinking them made my
blood pump quicker. I am not only a human being, I am a piece of meat.
Steak tartare, sashimi, still pink in the centre and dribbling down my
chin. Visceral, fleshed, marbled and muscled. I am not only a human
being, I am a piece of meat. Seethed in milk, infused with sweat,
marinated in my own juices. Sexual appetites consuming bodies who are
just begging to be bitten. I am not only a piece of meat, I am a human
being never felt quite so seductively sticky and surely never made my
this wet. Keep your mind-fuck, I'll take mine in pounds of flesh and
blood. Flesh between my fingers, pinched and puckered. I am not only a
human being, I am a piece of meat. Blood in my nostrils and cunt and
staining my teeth. The thrill of the hunt and the lure of the kill.
Blood hardens my nipples, my meat engorged and bursting with abattoir
adrenaline, waiting for the hounds to sniff me out.

(From my final undergrad essay ever, 2005)