the kind of pain that knows no language

Language fails, my friends. It fucking fails. For five minutes today I would have rather died than go on for one second more of what I was experiencing. That doesn't even make sense. It shouldn't. I actually thought of Frey's description of the root canals--how could he have written that if he hadn't been through it? Mother of Jesus H. Christ.

And it ain't even over. It's not even fucking over. Shoot me now.