BeanNblunts
Member
Well its been about 9 hours and my sanity, or what is left of it, is starting to make its way back. I am not new to being sunburnt. In fact I actually try to burn myself and gather up as much of the beautiful sunlight each summer that I possibly can. I love it. It stings for a bit but I get an overdose of whatever vitamins the sun offers and feel tremendous after. I love the tan and how I feel. Typically I don't peel at all if I take care of it. Unfortunately I havent been working outside as much this year just because of the circumstances with work, but 48 hours ago I went to work on the front yard pulling the pesky weeds. It was a beautiful day. Unfortunately its no longer the yesterday of yesterday but the tomorrow of Today. Things changed
Hells Itch. Bealzabubs prickly sack. Satans scratch. Whatever title you so wish to grant it, if you ever had it ... Ya know. If you havent experienced this do pay close attention for this is unbearable.
I decided that I wanted to finish up what was left in the front for pulling weeds so I lathered up some sunscreen on my back (just because I wanted to be cautious and not over do it. HA). This is where my tribulation began.
It was pins and needles being forced into my flesh. As if Satan himself built a monument on my back. Every follicle of hair began itching as if they were strip poles for fire ants and they had fiberglass insulation for seating. Like a herpe saturated cunt that was just shaved a day ago was gliding up and down my back. To pretend to be ough and down play this is a mistake. I was praying for Covid to take me away. Absolute madness. It is as if every sin ever known to man was given back to mankind and I had to suffer it as our Savior had through a unrelenting itch that drives one wild. Nothing but scolding hot showers every 25 minutes could help subdue this burden and even then it only brought it down to a manageable degree. A battle of attrition where it is a physically unpenratable itch and mentally a total collapse like that of a bad mushroom trip gone worse.
I dont want your sympathy. I have been warned by many folk. I just feel obligated to share my experience. I wish that absolutely no soul, saved or doomed, shall experience this.
Yours truly ... Suffering.
Hells Itch. Bealzabubs prickly sack. Satans scratch. Whatever title you so wish to grant it, if you ever had it ... Ya know. If you havent experienced this do pay close attention for this is unbearable.
I decided that I wanted to finish up what was left in the front for pulling weeds so I lathered up some sunscreen on my back (just because I wanted to be cautious and not over do it. HA). This is where my tribulation began.
It was pins and needles being forced into my flesh. As if Satan himself built a monument on my back. Every follicle of hair began itching as if they were strip poles for fire ants and they had fiberglass insulation for seating. Like a herpe saturated cunt that was just shaved a day ago was gliding up and down my back. To pretend to be ough and down play this is a mistake. I was praying for Covid to take me away. Absolute madness. It is as if every sin ever known to man was given back to mankind and I had to suffer it as our Savior had through a unrelenting itch that drives one wild. Nothing but scolding hot showers every 25 minutes could help subdue this burden and even then it only brought it down to a manageable degree. A battle of attrition where it is a physically unpenratable itch and mentally a total collapse like that of a bad mushroom trip gone worse.
I dont want your sympathy. I have been warned by many folk. I just feel obligated to share my experience. I wish that absolutely no soul, saved or doomed, shall experience this.
Yours truly ... Suffering.
