I only puke when I eat or drink, otherwise I feel fine.

More nightmares and headaches. The persistent suffering wire arching from the base of the cranium and following the skull's curvature on the left side to a point just above my right eye may be the residual effect of grinding my teeth at the night's horrors. Floods swirl about the bed, I splash around frantically looking for my shoes under the dark tide. Ghosts bare their breasts.

For a while, I treat it with the customary substances. But after a while, why not just go out in public with the ache like a drug on you? Writhe in everyday conversation. The pain wants you to hate most things; just smiling is victory over evil.