Most people assume the worst sensation is the smell, because they remember smells. They don’t disappear like other discomforts, so the pine from the forest where you broke your leg, or the musty scent of plastic coated furntiture that goes with boredom and grief are easily identified soul splinters. However in the moment by far the worst sensations are tactile; the sticky, hot, viscosity that goes along with not being some nightmare creatures food. The heat that’s more than enough to evaporate the lungs if not for having taken the necessary precautions, and worst of all the way the tongue seems to stick to the hangy ball at the back of the throat, as if to hide it’s eyes from the next worst thing it’s ever seen.
All are trials to be endured. Character building exercises some might say, though continuance isn’t necessarily growth. It is however another day of potential, and though reality may have an opinion, potential only answers to imagination, so when all the monsters ARE, madness is an option as long as there’s another day.
