Tuesday, 12 April 2011


Pain is a funny thing. It's not hilarious, but it is funny. There's pain that just bugs you, and that's body pain. I almost said physical, but emotional pain hurts physically too. And that's the other sort of pain: the kind that comes on strong, then dissipates to lure you into the sense that you're over it...and just when you really could use some peace and quiet, hits you over the head again as if to say, "Hah! You thought I'd gone! But I'll never leave!" and cackles evilly, running away to plan another ambush.

Does pain actually think about this and premeditate how it strikes? I wouldn't put it past it, but I don't think so. It's just the inanimate nature of pain, and if it were planned around the times when it wouldn't hurt, that wouldn't be pain anyway. You have this hole in your heart, or your soul more-like, and you can't fill it with anything because it's a hole: whatever you put in it just falls through. It's not like a hole in the ground which isn't a hole but a pockmark; this is a hole all the way through, the kind you can look into and see the other side, like a glittering black she-devil. Or he-devil.

Pain, pain, pain. We wouldn't know we were human if we didn't feel, because we wouldn't know anything with it. I'm not complaining. But sometimes you do wonder how long it takes to disappear.

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