Hm. The amount of crying I've done last night might have damaged my eyes a little. Normally a good bawler has a beneficial effect, particularly when I am working with pigment, but so far it feels more akin to when you get sunblock in and the damn things just refuse to focus for the rest of the day. I've tried washing them out and already wasted half a bottle of drops trying to salinate and hydrate them properly. No luck so far. Am tired as fuck as well. The toothache is becoming interesting. Explaining to G burnt through the rest of my energy. Somehow telling a lover that you feel indescribable, profound and overwhelming sadness FOR NO REASON is not good enough. You have to spend three hours translating emotions to someone who then hammers the last nail in their coffin by asking if there is anything they can do to prevent it. No, for the love of fuck, it has nothing to do with you. Stop making it about YOU. 

     But then he went and did that washing dishes thing and that really undid the ugly spell. It seemed to be too late for the eyes, though. I couldn't really sleep much, but they did have a chance to rest, so it's not resting them. Reading is not an option - I just can't see. One's not strong enough and one's just a mess. I am fully aware of their size and weight in my skull. I wasn't going to draw, but I was going to write. Just saying, being able to adjust the luminosity of my screen is the best thing ever.