my mouth's a burning pit of agony.

i got some little grape flavored waxy dots covering my sharp upper teeth. take them off and the inside of my lips become swollen and inflamed. I can barely eat-biting into anything remotely hard feels like someone's taking a white-hot poker and jamming it into my delicate, precious gums. yes. it's true.

eating, the one reason why i have to slightest amount of motivation in the morning to wake up, has now become the most unpleasant experience imaginable. and you know what? they don't sell damn pudding cups at the deli. i feel like an old lady who can't never get what she wants. that's bad, by the way.

braces. they've ventured up from the festering armpits of hell and have been applied to my mandibles by devilish orthodontic minions. it hurts to talk or smile or open my mouth. and they're blue. blue, small, painful, cold and metallic. like my heart. and my only consolation is listening to loud funk music from the seventies. for the love of god, why don't i just move to england where bad teeth are smiled (crookedly) upon and there's no such thing as an orthodontist? i think i will. good bye, incredibly judgmental america, i'm leaving you alone to enjoy your dental monstrosities without me. enjoy!