I hate waterfalls. Tiny cascades on babbling books are not a problem, but roaring falls embrace me with crushing pain. They are a full-body migraine complete with light auras and multi-sensory sensitivity. The sound leaves me unable to function, unable to escape until someone drags me away. Black daggers and lingering haze, I lean against a railing or drop to my knees and rock through the pain. Synethesia can be blissful, percussive massages and silky caresses, but it can also be agony, even in places where others find beauty.