Thursday, February 14, 2008
When I look out on the white of a cloudy sky I see the migraine pulsing, swimming in the white, small white circles outlined in throbbing beige. The pain of it is steady though, a round fist pushing out of the very center of my forehead. My nose has that feeling that you get after you’ve smacked it on something, not hard, but enough that you know it. The feeling doesn’t fade. My ears hear everything and the sounds are brighter, some of them impossibly so. My eyes are tired, the sort of sore that comes from sitting by a smoky fire but they see all the details, fuzzed then clear. Seeing all the colors, all the way to the edge of my vision. My thoughts are jagged. My body impatient. The muscles ready to react, too ready and they tremble with it, occasionally startling me by flexing as if they were stimulated by some unknown charge.