My brain is full of words and images and concepts, but mostly words. I read the dictionary for fun, scrabble is my favourite board game, books are my closest & oldest friends. The hardest part of each move for me was always my books, since there are hundreds of them. I returned a love letter once with red pen corrections (to be fair, he'd misspelled "the".) (yes, really). Now that you've a better understanding of my verbivore habits, can you tell me why I've been thus far unable to accurately describe the pain I am in each fucking day? 'Cause I sure as shit can't. Have some words:
Aching
Dull
Shooty
Twitchy
Bruised
Broken
Heavy
Sore
Stabby
Fiery
Pointless.
If these were shorter-than-average miners names, we'd all be fuckled.
Time to put food in me and then add the pills and then go back to my comfortable & warm prisony bed.
(Yo stabby, c'mon over and get the pity-bus outta here, now)
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