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The Fila shades last rested upon the bridge of my nose on Monday of this week. Since then the clouds have wept openly for all to experience. In accordance with the unending confusion that is life, the top most part of my nose has felt an uneasing sense of submissiveness. As if I had been in a fight or brawl. The pain searing down into my face is like a drill boring for water in an arid field. The possibility of an actual break in the cartilage has not escaped me. However, the prospect of making the trip into the doctor's office amidst the lunacy of fuzziness that clouds my judgement and memory have held me back.
I may end up in the critical victims ward of the local hospital if the nasally induced amnesia and general feeling of disorientation leads my path across that of a moving vehicle.
Saturday, 21 October 2000 - 07:46
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