The paradox of an aching tooth

I am distracted. I hate it. I cannot think straight. I am annoyed. I have tons of things running in my head right now. Do not be a prick. I might snap any moment. Move away. I am pressured. Class will start next week and I do not have any concrete agenda yet. Do not add to my misery. I have a deadline on Friday. I need to get tons of documents before Friday. I have an interview tomorrow. The least you could do is pick on every single detail I do with my life. As it is now, I am confused and lost. Stop asking too much questions. If you want to know, shut up and be still for a second. I hate your question marks. They drive me nuts. I feel being grilled, being toasted, being tortured. I am transported to a very dark stinky room where the only thing I see is the pin light hanging from the ceiling. A loud and threatening voice reverberates in the damp room – with no face. Whatever questions I am asked, I answer the way the voice wants me to answer them. TO MAKE THE VOICE SHUT UP!!! But the voice will not. The voice will not stop with the pestering questions. Like a nagging toothache. And when you have the worst toothache, you swear to have the tooth extracted. But once the pestering ache is gone, you do everything to save the tooth. Wheeeehhhh!