At first, it was just barely noticeable, but pretty soon it became unbearable. 

I saw you out there on the ice, believe me, transporting a backpack packed with those unbearable things - which, weight in mind, threatened to drown you. I called out to you on the ice, What are you doing transporting a backpack packed with those horrid, unbearable things? 

You waved and smiled like an idiot. You might have been drunk or something. 

So, I ran out to you. 

You were still smiling like an idiot, transporting a backpack packed with those unbearable things, but you could not understand why I was running out. 

By way of explanation, I said, I'm coming to help you transport that backpack packed with those horrid, stinking, unbearable things. 

You tried to stop me, but it was too late - I'm an idiot. The ice cracked open and we plunged beneath the milky surface, under the ice, enfolded by dark water. 

Those horrid, stinking, deep-red, unbearable things immediately scuttled out of your backpack and chewed our guts. The water churned thick, rusted, flushed, and those horrid, stinking, deep-red, vacant-eyed, unbearable things squirmed inside and outside of us, chomping vacuously at our viscera, furiously burrowing our fascia, spraying masticated webs of unbearable things.