Collecting these from people I know, one new friend asks me to post that pain to him is like birth.
He was adopted and only in midlife has he found his brother who was also adopted out of his family.
I haven't found my Oxford's yet - does anyone have the roots of the word exquisite?
out- question?- can't be it.
Pain is often mind-wiping to me, there is nothing else I can think of or focus on when it is severe and it can wipe my short term memory with it, so as with the waves mentioned her, it washes away all I meant to do or say.
I find myself constantly bringing it up so people won't be quite so pissed at me when I screw up - I hate that I hear myself mentioning it so often. So pain is a thief, stealing my relationships, my dignity, my sense of accomplishment, my time, my memories...
It throbs, stabs, aches, screams, tortures, pinches, pokes, sticks itself in like a skewer, cramps, freezes, burns, wastes, dominates, plays the descant, steals the melody... ah, my life, so creative!
If I did not tell you all the changes you might consider, I would be doing you a disservice, treating you with less than the full respect you deserve. This much I have learned from my years teaching and mentoring writers.
Riverstones let the water flow around them.