James woke up in his bed and his head felt like it was imploding from the forehead inwards while his brain tried to escape via his throat.
"Uuunngh." He groaned. That just made his head hurt a whole lot worse.
"Oh, good, you're alive."
(more) James turned his head towards the new voice, and then attempted to blink his eyes open in such a way that it wouldn't hurt.
"Nngh?" He asked the blobs of colour that the new voice belonged too.
"If you're asking who this is, it's Martin."
James's brain took a second to click to who that was, and when it did he felt something drop in his stomach.
"Arthur's in his room sulking and hating everything." Martin's voice turned sharp, and James tried once again to bring him into focus. It worked a bit better this time. Well, well enough that he could see Martin had been crying. "He might come out and talk to us when you're a bit less dead."
"Uuughnnn." James pressed his face into the pillow and Martin sighed.
"Yeah... Yeah I know."(less)
My head hurts
I am mad about Q
I am currently ultimately fond of Will
And his dad
And Sebastian *pfft like forever*
And his master
(more) And Lawrence
And *tbh* Zhou Mi
Am I that stressed
Until I strongly draw myself to SJ again
Or is it merely because of the headache
The headache I had after I saw those legs
Plain white candle textured candle length legs
Standing firmly on the ground
And at that time, I swear I said to myself,
'Gurl, you just proclaimed your premature celebration'
Because it's easy to dislike but it's hard to neglect
I bought my toast and you went home
It's rather impossible for me to stare and steal some of it
Because the one who's with me looked at you
I knew you looked at us
Just like you usually do
Full of ignorance
With your *like mama said* intelligent eyeballs
Well I shouldn't have said too much
I shouldn't have stared the screen so long
I shouldn't have written about you
And about them
That's my secret....................those are my privacy
Those are my oddities that nobody can never digest
Not anyone in the society
The one and only
Gosh I must stop
My head is spinning tremendously
i checked out every. single. book. the tiny poulsbo library
offered on whales anticipating the best part of a trip to victoria, bc
and poured over them in the car to the ferry in port angeles. my tiny tummy turned and the headache crept while on t(more)he boat but mom promised we'd go to the aquarium first thing after checking in to the hotel, and there's no way the stupid headache would ruin it.
in elementary school, it was migranes. they'd come slowly.
during really, really exciting things, always ending in puke.
i puked from a migrane at the popular girl's birthday party in the kitchen sink (one look at that cake and it was all over. i remember her mom "not in there...."),
and at girl scout camp near the campfire, right before making smores (still managed to eat one, eventually.)
but puking makes them go away. so i'd sit hoping hoping hoping i'd puke to eliminate the crippling migrane and get on with the fun.
so on the sidewalk outside the empress hotel i remember watching a uniformed man with a garden hose cleaning the sidewalk.
A slow pulse begins in my third eye; moments later, quick stabs follow in the other two. The room spins as I try to stand. I stumble. I paw for the floor, scraping knees on carpet strands making ditches in my soft white skin. I climb back up, tripping(more) over myself as I steady my sight and aim for the bed, the couch, the chair--anything stable. Collapsing onto the bedspread, I curl up, pull the comforter over my eyes. Behind the blanket, the sun fights its way into my eyes.
The sun sets and the moon rises and I come back to my senses, reclaiming my body and mind for my own. The pain has receded and there is no more blindness to fight with. Blinking, tentative, I rise from beneath my shielding fabrics to face the evening light's shine with new clarity.(less)