Inner Toxicity Levels. Rising?

Earlier I was watching some show with Ana (naked and sweating in this heat), and I was overcome enough with emotion from it (the television show, not the heat) that I started crying. That's not odd. I'm easily moved to emotion by on-screen entertainment. How odd is it, though, that as I cried, my own tears stung my eyes?

And no, I didn't accidentally rub habanero oil into them this time like I did a few months ago.

Now I'm going to go to bed worrying about the plastics that are used to contain my food*, the possible toxicity of the black mold in my kitchen and bathroom (thank you CSI for reminding me), and the fact that my own tears burn my eyes like ascorbic acid in an open wound.

*"Plastics make it possible." We just didn't know the "it" meant transgenerational damage to fetal chromosomes. For those Octavia E. Butler fans, you may recognize some of the basics of this data in her Lilith's Brood series.

(no subject)

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind

When will you stop leaving baby?
When will I stop deserving baby?
When will I start staying with myself?

Oh these little projections, how they keep springing from me
I jump my ship as I take it personally
Oh these little rejections how they disappear quickly
The moment I decide not to abandon me