Illness

To be sick is such a joy in my life. Not having the ability to breath from my nose makes me feel like some inbreed hillbilly mouth breather. Constant pain to my forehead, so pleasant, as if a monkey is inside my head throwing poo against the walls of my skull. Hacking up some yellowish-green bile like substance from the depths of my lungs is ever so enjoyable. As I spit this substance out I wonder how many vile mucous creatures I kill off from my body, the answer not enough because I am sure a few minutes from now more of their family will be joining them. Yes I love being sick.