I feel sick today...like thats supposed to surprise you, yes I know. It still is horrible, no matter how many days pass in this pain and tightness, I will never adapt fully to this lifestyle. I will never have to. Hopefully.
My joints are what hurts most now. I am on the rack. I can feel them, strapped down to boards with duct tape wrapped tightly around my thighs and knees, slowly being yanked, twisted, a giants hands trying to pull them apart. The burn. A twitch. Swollen. The tendons feel like they are frozen in fear, a false move and they will crack or snap clean. The knees trembling in a nauseating way, a sensation like small hands scraping out a more concave spot. The drills, always drilling, a burning, dull heat buzz-buzz-buzzzing away, that perks up in the joints, just when you call for a respite.
aside: (Wow. The adjectives are really flowing today.)
It is a silent sort of battle between me and...a different part of me, I guess. It is a sort of pain that makes you want to scream nonsensical words, just to express the madness and confusion and pain inside. Nonsense is the only way to make sense of this sort of thing. It is the only thing to do, and the only rule that you mustn't break. It is a zillion times worse to give in. Honest. Silence is más mejor.
It is dark already. I hate waking up and in a few hours it being dark...it makes me feel sort of turned inside out. Unnatural. We wake up to the sun and go to bed at night...why can't I do this too?