Sickness unto death

Despite the fact that this day seemed to my body like and endless hangover, I was the most mobile I've been in weeks; I actually managed to take the TTC enough times to justify the exorbitant amounts of money I spend on that metropass. Also, I consumed enough herbal tea to drown a small pony, and I had hoped the placebo effect would take care of it. It didn't.

This day is different from all the other days I've had recently. Nothing seems interesting; too much colour is needlessly garish, and everything else is monotonous. The little noises of the bus were almost unendurable: the people ruffling thir polyethylene bags, clothes rubbing against other clothes, the window latches rattling on every pothole, and the bass beat from some goddamn asshole's headphones reverberating in the shell of the bus were like little castanets lodged inside my skull.

Consider: "the first Europeans in the so-called New World constituted a biological invasion; not a human invasion, rather a deluge of little mites and bacteria, according to the finest medical science back then: "evil spirits". These evil spirits massacred tens of millions, with a little help from their human acolytes. Again, this is indeed a disturbing universe."