A year ago...
A year ago, there was a large, inflamed scar on both my left rib and my back. As the days passed, inflammations dripping from my back and my fingers were both terrible and disgusting. Since people would look at me with disgust, I was embarrassed, escaped to corners, I went straight from the streets to the house, and sat in the back. I did not want to say, but I was in pain. When I say this, I want to rip off the slice, to bend my fingers, to destroy my mind. It is very difficult to be crushed under the gaunt and not be able to vocalize. There is nothing you can do other than wait for the passing of time. The sounds of tick-tock from the clock, will compete with agony, synthesize an army of breath. But now? The same eyes are no longer painful, but amazed at me. Some are proud, some are jealous. The painful eyes left the place with compassionate sparkle. I did this. I take the pride of night that I can not sleep because of the pain and cry for hours. Is it possible to be a better sign?
