All the Beautiful Ways to Say I Love You

Dearest one: This anthropomorphic, whorish piece of candy, seated on a bed of what appear to be torn-out organs (possibly spleens?) is wearing go-go boots, which I have mentioned are of particular interest to me in the bedroom. And she is beckoning me (me!) to come to her, and receive possible delightful pleasures at her hands (which shall not be soiled with chocolate, no, never). Note the look in her eye. I beg you to consider the many entreaties I have made to you—some mentioning marriage—and think about sharing a life with me. And my bed. Oh, my bed!

To my fat, porcine devil-baby. Words fail me. They fail me because you are beating me about the head and private parts with that trident you always carry in your trotter. Hand! I said hand!

Dear Valentine: My eye has falled off!

Dear Heart: You should not have left me at this untimely juncture. Do you not see how I will now kill you?

To My Valentine: The last 50 years with you has crushed my manhood like an old peanut shell.

Valentine: Your continued molestation has caused my nethers to shrink inward unto myself.

Sweetie: I bought you this "singing animated friend" because you have no "real friends" and therefore an "animated friend" is about the best you gonna get. At least it sings a damned song! Let it be a companion to you when you feeling all dark and dank and scratching your nads and eating Cap'n Crunch and shit (like you tend to do).

Baby: When I saw this robe I thought of you, staggering through the fog with a bellyful of gin and shattered fingers, and that old shotgun slung over your shoulder. Our lovemaking that night was sumptuous, as the bombs fell and you whispered: "Jimmy! If I only had a robe with a smattering of blue flowers, and a red pillow that bespoke 'love' on which to lay my head." So I bought it for you, dear heart. Sweet thing, why do you stare at me with such strange eyes?

Is Pain All That There Is

Trigeminal Neuralgia pain is the worst I have ever felt in all my life. 

Sleep is difficult, talking hurts like hell and every single thing that I need to do on a daily basis is becoming increasingly difficult. Brushing my hair is hell, showering is pure torture and brushing my teeth feels like I am using a cheese grater inside my mouth instead of a toothbrush, Moisturising also hurts, and putting on make-up is nasty. 

I feel really self conscious without my war paint. I despise leaving the house without it. I know that it is a silly and some people would say stupid thing to worry about, but it is how I am. 

I just want some of this pain to ease. Just a little. I have daydreams often. In them, I am working, living my life and completely pain free. I would give almost anything for this. It is futile, and each day passes with extreme burning pain, electric shocks overwhelm me every couple of minutes and the stabbing sensation is never ending. 

I feel that I am loosing myself. I look into the mirror and my appearance has changed, there is a blank and glassy look in my uneven pupils, my skin is pale and the swollen black bags under my eyes make me look like I am much older than my 28 years. 

I also don't recognise the woman reflected back. I am miserable, and there isn't much in life that brings me joy, and I don't care about very much any more. I do try and put up a front, I paint my face, struggle to tame my hair and plaster a smile on my face. 

My medications make me feel drunk and stupid, and I am positive that my IQ has dropped 50 points since my diagnosis, which for me is torture. 

Sleep is certainly my nemesis of late. 

I wonder how long I can go without sleep? 2 or 3 hours a night is ridiculous. I have to keep hoping that one morning I will wake up, and my first thought or yelp isn't due to pain. I want my vision back, I need it back. I read a lot, and I love to drive. 

Will there ever be an escape from the pain? Is pain all that there is??