One Flu Over the Cuckoo's Nest

What could have easily passed off as the Black Plague has struck my in all its pestilent glory. Misery reigns again in my life. Yet again.

*cough*

Yesterday,
Woke up with the itchy throat feeling that forcibly induced me to cough and hack out all forms of imaginary lodged phlegm. This, however, only further aggravated the problem and escalated the irritation, actually opening the pathways to actual lungal fungal infection (read: flu). The rush in the rain to NUS did not help in quelling any suffering.

My talkative self further fuelled the phlegm while the freezing cinema ("Be Cool", ironically) exacerbated my voice. A more effective movie would have been "The Horse Whisperer" for the hoarse whisperer (see? my standard of humour has been severely stunted by my sickness...)

*sniffle*

Today,
Talking is painful, breathing is painful and i'm influenced once again by the deleterious effects of antibiotics. Isn't it unfair that the most unproductive and inactive people can retain their health and vitality whilst other active, contributing members of society succumb to illness?

*wheezes*

I want to talk. I want to eat. I want to (at least try to) sing. I want to re-experience painless verbal communication and action. Firstly, it was the wisdom teeth, followed by the massive influx of self-inflicted ulcers and now a raspy throat flu. Now i'm stuck, alone, at home with my porridge and/or steamed 'goodies'. No more ban mian, no more bubble tea, no more citrus products. I want to be in church now, I want to be with friends and eat spicy nasi briyani. I want whatever i cannot have...

Even the grand air-con i worship has turned against me as i sit, shivering in front of the computer. Every breath i take is congruous to sharp sickle winds slicing away at my already worn-down and tender throat.

I'll have no more PE, no more volleyball trainings. No more physical outlet for my stresses, no more interactive activities with which to partake and indulge in. Oh influenza, would you rob me of this tiny pleasure even?

My only consolation is that i can be a SARS-like super-infector, to ignite the phlegm in the hearts (or lungs) of friends and family alike. Of course this will get me severely hated and despised, as with everything else i do. I guess this answers my previous rant in bold.

Life is good... for the flu bug.

On a less bemoaning note, Creative replaced my Zen. Now i just have to go through all the uploading. Again. While sick as a dog (sorry nubi). Drowzy with the aftertaste of bittersweet cough syrup in my mouth. While contradicting my emotions in trying to make this entry sound happier. ARRRGGH.

STOP IT! Its so bloody frustrating to clean up the mucous dripping all over my keyboard. I need to clear phlegm, but its just too painful... Stop the headache. Stop it all PLEASE!

Time, wait for me to recover before continuing...

---

Note to self: Stick to being funny and impersonal. No one wants to read the emotional exaggerations of a hack.

Reply to self: Ah shove it. *sneezes* I'll be as emo as i want when i want, readers be damned. This is my blog, i shouldn't have to conform for the public.

Shits. I just got a depressing revelation. My life sucks, im ugly and untalented, my studies are degrading, my future is going nowhere, my blog is degenerating and im a lazy SOB. My family has so many internal strifes. Can't even be bothered to decorate this blog entry's word colours...

*sobs in exasperation*



Mondo moody to... Sick and Tired - Anastacia