When I wake up, I can barely feel my cheekbones. My chin is present; my eyes are; my cheeks are almost entirely numb. I can feel the heat of my hands pressed against them, I can feel the pressure of a touch-- but not much more.
This slowly fades into consciousness and awareness as I wake, but for perhaps an hour, my face is not truly mine.
If I were to need an intelligent man of absolute honesty, I would pick my English professor, Mr. Goff. His class encourages debate. He encourages debate by supporting the opposing position of what he wishes the class to talk about, but in such a reasonable way that is simultaneously so outrageous --
Take partial birth abortion. I would have left the room had I not known this teacher's techniques, to hear his steady educated voice discussing horrors in such matter of fact terms. He uses the twists of phrase that the camp he's talking about uses, but fails to gloss over the nasty truths. For either side of the argument, no matter the argument. He stirs up debate. He stirs up hot debate. On issues that I feel quite strongly about, I just sit, interject a civil comment here and there, and otherwise hold my tongue, at the occasional cost of all blood flow to my excessively compressed lips, but still I hold my tongue.
I love that class.