The funny thing about pain is it begins somewhere and it grows and begins somewhere else and it keeps moving through a body until the origin of the pain is barely noticed.

Last night, I got home from work and felt like shit- pain in my back and neck. Pain in my rotten tooth. Pain in my eyes from staring at the road for hours. A shower made me feel fresh and new again. My face in the mirror felt beautiful again. I could go on about the way I did not feel pain for a moment.

I applied my cure-all to my face. The mascara was perfect. My hair did all I could expect it to do.

The champagne was barely fizzy and the store was closed. I wanted to go out. Jackpot has a patio now.

The toilet at the bar was lopsided and I began to notice all of the things wrong with the place since the recent explosion of Raleigh and Jackpot's rumored future closing. The cocktail glass was new... a replacement for the ones stolen by hip sentimental youth furnished by another closing bar. No champagne.

The Landmark supplied what I wanted until my friend dramatically threw her arms up into space while telling a cat/dog story and they fell into my glass, which plunged into my lip. The glass fell, soaking me and a stranger sitting at the bar.

A homeless Rastafarian man attempted to sell Andrew a Joker-style ski hat circa 1998.

Andrew jokingly accused me of cheating on him and that brought back my pain.

The pain begins in my cheek where I bit down on it hard while working yesterday. The pain suffers in my molar, too.

The pain is on my scalp where I can't seem to rid of a flaky substance that up until eight months ago would have never existed on my head.

The pain is in my feet and my ankles, and I can not find the right position to rest them in.

The pain is in the air as I smoke my existence away and the pain is in my arthritis-ridden fingers as I type my suffering sob story in the worst form and detail I could possibly choose to do so in.