Unconscious Imperfection

July 24, 2012

Small aches turn to pains. Pains turn to throbs. Throbs turn to agony and then what? The smile removes its mask to reveal the frown at large, and bright eyes turn to dull gazes. Bed seems to be the only comfort and even then, the warmth and comfort slowly turns to a bumpy cave floor. My breath quickens, the dizziness comes and with it a throbbing head. Nausea surfaces and makes a permanent home with no relief.

Eyes are shut to block out the pain, the sickness, the disorientation but to no prevail. Still, it haunts me even closer. The dial on the pain meter is off the charts and there I am left as an unconscious lump on the ground. Answers come few and far between and simply spit at me a generic statement with a homemade remedy. No solution, no real reason other than my human body is performing like a human body: imperfect.

Where is the day? The day where suffering doesn't exist. When your deepest of pains and your lowest of lows suddenly disappear? Where is that place? Where is that Kingdom?

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