Flowers Took My Headache Away, Baby

At the end of the dream, I was a performer in a circus ring. It was entirely dark except for a light that shone on myself and a woman dancing with a flag in the center of the ring. My act: swinging recklessly on a swing the height of a three story building. My eyes always closed, swinging wildly, haphazardly; never knowing if I might crash violently into the metal frame on my descent, or into the flag dancer on ascent. This was the appeal of my act; it was no feat to just swing, but one of us could be bludgeoned at any moment. I sang the entire time, a very loud singing to ensure projection. It's very hard to sing while you are swinging. The noise is here, then there.
I woke up with a throbbing headache, the same kind I get when I am impotently echoing dream-sob.

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My Abuse is Ingenious

It's strangely exciting the way the body, I only speak from the experience of my body, reacts to a terrible revelation. It could be read, told, intuited, and the sensation is still the same; a menthol bath to the brain, hot cheeks, numb mouth, stomach plunge to the uterus, tingly limbs.
To myself I am a most depraved enemy.