So a migraine came to me in place of anything else. In place of those words I so want to come. I want to feel better and I definitely want to be better. In Rilke’s poem, “The Archaic Torso of Apollo,” he writes: You must change your life. And I must for my own sake of sanity, my brain acting up with a tantrum giving my stomach the aches of hammers, the consitency of deteriorating lace. I want it all to be better … I must change my life … my brain and its terrible tempers thundering like shutters in a night wind.
