Itch is a four letter word that stands tall among its peers of equal numbered letters. Sometimes, you can put a series of these four letter words together to form a string of profanity. Kinda like this -- damn that itch! Okay, one of those words had more than four letters.
Have you ever experienced the onset of a sudden and demanding itch which overflowed its borders and spread to surrounding areas when met with a scratch? That intense but localized itch now requires more of your attention, and is usually met with a sense of irritation. Quadriplegics I know who have lost the use of their hands have a profanity for these momentary but attention-getting situations. They call them sons of itches. I am not being sexist. It's just that daughters doesn't have the same ring to it.
I figure I have sensation over about 15% of my body, as measured vertically. Much less if measured by mass. I'm working on that, but that's a subject for another day. I believe that itches are like flies. They materialize out of nowhere and land randomly on some part of your body. I'm not generally a conspiracy theorist but, in my case, I believe they are acting in collusion. How else can you explain, continual and targeted attacks on places such as under your ear?
I would like to issue the "SCI Challenge." I challenge you to sit somewhere quietly for 10 minutes, close your eyes and not think about what itches. Difficult isn't it. In the unfortunate event that you are attacked, you cannot defend yourself and scratch the itch. Mind over matter. For those of you who successfully complete this challenge, first feel free to use some SCI profanity and go after those sons of itches! Then, relax in the afterglow of an itch well scratched.
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