He understood what gut-wrenching meant, only when he sobbed.
He curled his being to somekind of arc, clutched his sides, and orally expelled chunks of grief that had hardened in his innards.
It took effort to throw it all out. It even made sickly, gagging noises.
His lungs would crunch under duty, and feel periodically relieved. His shoulders would shake without effort.
It was a non-wet exercise. Clean. But not really.
It sometimes surprised him that he could stand back and observe himself stumble along, occasionally registering that things hurt.
Registering things that hurt.
His surprise when he watched himself observe – that was the moment he felt most.
Sewn Together 
Doped he was, yes? Dope does such funny things to people.
Your last 3 posts, I read 4 times.
AC: no.peeya: =) gladcha like.
“occasionally registering that things hurt.”nice…
I had Bhaang once and thought my friend looked like Satan.Which he did.
See, now, I really liked Blackbird. And then my hard disk crashed and I lost it, which hurt.
how is he now? photographer+writer. wow.