I’ve spent much of the past 24 hours with bits of tissue crammed up my nostrils so my nose doesn’t drool snot out onto whatever might happen to be below it.
Despite this effort I have thus far adequately besnotted:
-1/2 roll toilet paper
-atmosphere of planet earth.
But you see it isn’t my fault. My sinuses are just privileged. They think they’re entitled to be this snotty, and to fling their jewely ribbons of mucous about the room. I know better. I know you don’t want to know about it, but my sinuses have taken over my brain and fingers and I cannot stop myself from inflicting these images upon you.
Like earlier when I thought, “oh, this is better than yesterday,” and sat away from my tissues for five minutes? My sinuses decided it was seriously showtime. They made me sneeze so hard a thick goob of clear green ooze flung from my nose. I still don’t know where it landed. Another dangled there, swinging in and out of my field of vision as I made a mad dash for the tissue box.
I recognize that you probably didn’t want to read that. You were just sitting at your computer, or scrolling on your phone, innocently hoping for cuteness or maybe inspiration and my entitled sinuses took that to mean you wanted them to detail how they’re using my booger to torture me. Now you have this mucousy picture of me you can’t really get rid of. I mean you’ll delete it immediately, of course, but still. You wonder: did I think you’d be turned on? You don’t even really know what to say, or how to address the issue with me. I mean you certainly don’t want to tell me your own nose-puke story. Is that what I’m hoping for? To get a picture of your nostril-vomit in my head so that when I play with my own snot later on I’ll have something to look at? You probably don’t want to know.
Thing is my sinuses don’t really care about you. They think they deserve whatever whim crosses their stuffy, entitled heart, regardless of your position on the matter. My head-cum wants you to know it knows you don’t like the term ‘head-cum.’ But it’s also angry at you for not being super grateful that it acknowledged how much you don’t like it, and so it has decided to say it as often as possible until you realize its way of thinking is the only correct way of thinking: head-cum, head-cum, head-cum! I mean it’s tolerant of your views, but let’s be real: there’s not a better way to say snot, no matter what you might think. You’re not a sinus. You’re being intolerant of it.
I mean really: My sinuses do a lot of good work. They harvest my vocal resonance, do all the labour of purging my illness for me for free! – but where’s my recognition for owning them? I should get a month.
Just now they feel subdued. They’re freshly blown and saying this has really helped to get a lot of what was bothering them out. I guess I should remember that listening to snotty little shits is the first step towards having compassion for them. It’s just so hard when they’re so full of poisonous goo, that flinging it at you is all they seem good at doing.