It all moved. Whenever I fixed my gaze upon something, all of reality was spinning about it- it drove little holes of pain into my skull, my attempts at forcing sense into an environment where no sense can survive. Sounds were a blur. But it was attacking and I had no way of retaliation. So I waited, in pain. Waited for the long minutes of non-sense to fade. Waited until I’ve had enough of time, that I might turn myself the right direction, like a shirt.
It wasn’t sudden. But I sensed something shift in me. It was my meal and seven glasses of different wine wanting an outlet. So out I let them. And my sense returned. And come morning, I was only aching and hurting and nothing more.
Good morning.
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