podeamme on fire
You learn the strangest things about yourself, or at least re-discover them, in the delirium and haze and blearyness of ill.
With a temperature sporadically spiking, yet never settling below a slight fever, days have become dazed. Industry has come to a stand-still, lounging around hating myself for lounging around.
Dragging myself down to school, to fulfil duties and obligations, the tethered crone is unleashed. Bitter and resentful and simply bitchy, I sat there swooning in and out of rage, returning now and then to socially expected behaviour. Or behaviour society expected of Vicnan, as I thought then, mirthlessly.
Tolerance dissipated as did my constitution. On the bench alone, goose pimples suddenly prickled my skin. As I raise a hand to a suddenly nauseous mouth, perspiration trickles off my arm. Perspiration and sheer cold is a very unique combination; had I not felt as a sick as a pig, I might have even enjoyed it.
Of course, if I weren’t as sick as a pig, I wouldn’t have experienced it. Hmm.
Nails cut into my palms, as I try take my mind off things by answering someone’s questions on Keynote (over msn, of course). I fight the growing urge to throw up the non-lunches and non-dinners of before, retching on an empty stomach.
The thought of things that needed to be kept safe (money, tickets, the phones and wallets and who-knows-what else of the others who had gone to play) kept me rooted.
They return, I leave. And I realised the stubborn streak in me. I go to a friend’s place, drop him off tickets. I try return him cash he wired to me for a cab; I realise the stubborn streak in him.
And the next seven hours simply disappear, at home (after puking).
And wait, I can look forward to just about the same tomorrow.
Whee. Such fun. Can’t you feel my bubbling excitement?
Oh wait. That bubbling isn’t excitement.
ExcusemeIneedtogo.
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