My head is banging so hard I am sure my brains would split and leak out my ears.
Okay I wrote the above sentence simply because my life has been drama free for the past few weeks and I wanted a minor reminder of a dramatic life.
I don’t want the reminder. I feel so good. And bad. Life without drama has not been peaceful. It has just been… emotionless. I used to be hurt, angry, tearful, vengeful sometimes, happy, ecstatic, wild, and prayerful almost all at once. And the result led to chaos. A chaotic and complicated series of events.
Banging head thanks to shisha.
Raging mind thanks to Bio’s incomprehensible tests. Tests that I banged. Consecutively. Not that I don’t care. I just don’t understand.
A scarred plus scared heart. A heart scared to love again. For fear of being shut out and crushed in the blistering cold.
A broken heart. Okay I’m lying. I’m not heartbroken. My heart is just twisted. And confused. Baffled really. I expressed myself, got positive results and then got unfathomable results from the dude that I, the not so courageous Chiquita managed to blurt out occasional te quiero’s, or je t’adore’s. and my friend called me a “giver upper”. I give up easily, yes. But at least I tried for this. I gave it my all. But that’s that and nothing can change this. And no I’m not giving up on lost like. (daman it was never love from both sides) I am facing reality.
Let’s see what happened.
I lived, I laughed, I kinected with good friends, I snuggled in kilishi with someone whose name, presence and memory ‘s engraved in me in gold and blue. I know why it’s blue (favourite color) gold, I dnno why. I clubbed till like 6 a.m. heck I danced all night long I needed to get pulled out of the floor. I aced my tests without having to jack like crazy. (ok it’s cmd 100, ba laifi)
I watched inspirational movies, fantasized, windecked to windeck, wept at save me, made hoops with hookah, smiled at private entertainer, traveled, peed in the middle of nowhere (haha gombe en route adamawa) swam to the deep side of the pool (and made it back alive and), flirted, gazed into those eyes, prayed devotedly, guilt tripped myself, made new friends, walked to the AUn gate twice in one night – Camby, Mcube we should do that again!, woke up at six … to work out! Binged on five chocolate cakes in three months… and counting! I lived, really.
I did more things, but honestly speaking I’m as emotionless as an ex bipolar girl could be. I can NOT feel. And when I do feel, I can’t even express myself.
All I know now is I am sick. I’ve got malaria. And I managed to get two injections. One in each butt cheek. Yes, my bottom is swollen up and I am in pain. (I dislike drugs, you would prescribe them to me but I wouldn’t swallow them to save my life.) my eyes hurt. Dunno why but it sucks. But on the upside I don’t have bags under my tiny eyes so yayyy, I’m happy about that.
I watch southpark. A lot. I love the cartoon. It has almost the same effect as a beats by dre headphone. My problems fly away and I just need to concentrate on fantasy, rather than reality.
Expressionless, I rest this post’s case as it is because I truly canNOT contribute to anything further. Plus I told my newest friend I’d blog so here it is, Camby :P
