A creeping headache holds you in its grip. The aura of hyperactivity and inhibition lulls you into a false sense of security. The body mutinies against consciousness. Pain descends, permeating inside your skull. The type of pain that forces you to squeeze your eyes shut and endure a surge of neurological anguish because it feels better when you finally open them; now you have perspective. The grip tightens.
What does the Buddha say about biting the flesh off someone’s face and feasting on their agony?