Writing through a migraine

Cold and rainy outside, what some might call a dogwood winter…

Pulsating rhythm in one’s head, the recurrence of cyclical migraine-like conditions, a throbbing sensation, loud humming that seems to come from one’s inner ear area, like PA speaker feedback and a type of mental blindness in the eye on the same side of the head.

Not pain like a skin cut, stretched muscle or broken bone.

The feeling that one must walk through waist-high water with every thought.

Do. not. want. to. think.

However, goals are set and want to be reached in a timely manner.

Going back through a book titled “TINY HOMES Simple Shelter” by Lloyd Kahn, similar to books I read as a kid, a call to the life of frugal living that I still enjoy writing about and living somewhat.

I look down at my 54-year old hands and wonder what they’ll look like 54 years from now, wherever they might be.

I love life, I love my friends, I love this planet and everything about our universe but when a migraine kicks in (and this one probably started three or four days ago), the joy of life is tempered by fogginess.

Good news from a friend about cancer-free body condition this week made the migraine seem insignificant.

So, too, the news of SpaceX sticking an ocean platform landing.

The migraine is insignificant compared to just about anything except living with it in this slice of the permanent moment of life.

But I get the feeling of the migraine down on e-paper so that if there is something more significant about it, I have a record of its intensity and length.

A morning for reading and not thinking too much.

Absorbing information rather than generating data…

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