It's so easy to write about pain. It's so easy because pain is always magnified by self-absorption and somehow every terrible word fits while every happy word never fits at all. I wish I could accurately record every single happy thing that happened but the effusive, pleasant things in life tend to leave no room for words because they glow inexpressibly and shine in laughter and countenance.

As for pain, that lousy dratted thing, there never seems to be enough words to go around. And worse, with it comes this embarrassing tirade to blurt it all out, to wallow and wash it over and over with words, purged but never clean. I write (wrote?) about it a lot and frankly, I hate reading what I write about it. It never fails to sound puerile and trite. I don't understand how something so honest can sound so terribly contrived.

I attempted to write out important bits of my life today in a narrative. And when I came to the painful bits, it was never more apt in the worst way possible, because they truly were the most painful bits to read. I cringed and felt almost angry with embarrassment and wanted to rip it into shreds. Metaphorically, that is.

Funnily enough, somehow numbing pain sounds so beautiful. It has that ethereal quality; to be vulnerable yet untouchable, senseless yet sensible, to feel without feeling at all. Aggh, too bad for me my senses are simply ordinary regular ones, because I don't know how to be untouchable when vulnerable and when I feel pain, it doesn't feel like anything other than pain.

And speaking of pain, I'm going for a massage tomorrow and I'm really excited! Okay, the pain bit comes in when I say that I hope it won't be too painful. You know how it feels wonderful when your mother massages you after a tiring day, but those professional massage places on tv make it look so painful. And since we're going to a cheap-ish place, it's not going to be dim aromatherapy candles and scented oils, and err well, I don't really know what to expect really. But I'm still really excited!