The Voice of Reason

Not everything makes sense. Not everything appeals to each of your senses. That's the source of magic in so many things. How often does what you see make you hear a sound? How often does something you touch, remind you of a smell? And then, how often does something you hear, make every one of your other senses erupt?

One voice, a voice which creates images in your mind for your eyes to see. You smell the scent, feel the touch, taste that which you had been longing for, for so, so long. All because one sense receives something so powerful, you don't need any of the others. The magic stems from one source. Only one reason. To be together and let your senses free. Free from the dominance and dependence of that one sense you've become a slave to. The one you yearn for each day. Until, suddenly, it's taken away. What then?

What do you do when the one sense all the others depended upon for their share was taken away? Agony. It's all you see, smell, taste, touch, and hear. Agony of the senses.

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'That's the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.'
~ John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

'She was my North, my South, my East and my West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; was I wrong?'
~ edited excerpts from W. H. Auden.

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I'll wait for your return.