Hyarg.

My ear hurts right now.

Ouch, ouch, ouch.

How wonderful, though--once you begin thinking about it--that despite the fact that I'm currently attempting to push together some willing words in order to make my presence known in the (slightly) immaterial spheres here, my only current thought's source is located in my left inner ear canal, where an obnoxious piece of wax has been pressing against my eardrum with an determination that makes me recall those pictures of people pressed against the Berlin Wall. How wonderful that, no matter how far the mind goes, the body is always calling it back.

Oh, spirits of Cartesian dualism, begone! I reject the idea that mind and body will be one day removed, I reject your initial hatred for the vessels, the instruments of this life! Didn't old René himself find the soul deep down in some niche of our cranium? If I am to live in this crass shell, I will not make my stay without it leaving an impression on me, and vice-versa. Let there be pain, let there be ecstasy, let there(oh, please, let there) be chocolate. My body is a cage and I am a willing prisoner, if only to be able to touch every inch of its golden entrapment. Not hedonism, no; symbiosis. Homeostasis between controller and controlled.

Okay, that really hurts. Peroxide now.

Some cages were meant to be broken.