Pshychologists say when humans expreience something traumatising, they block it out and sink in denial
What law interview?
In trouble. Trying to get out of trouble. inducing other people to get into trouble. Bailing other people out of trouble. Always in trouble.
Saturday, April 30
Thursday, April 28
Morbid thoughts
I watched part 1 of 8 simple rules to dating my teenage daugher, the season finale, where it is dedicated to the death of John Riter who passed away.
I was watching it and I really felt the death keenly. I was crying too and I could feel the sadness seep in my bones. Perhaps because, the awareness, that it is more than just the death of the chracter, because it is also the death of an actor. It is as completely real as a death in TV could be. The grief was overwhelming. yo ucould, see the family was a real family.
And I felt like my dad wasn't there anymore.
g'night
I was watching it and I really felt the death keenly. I was crying too and I could feel the sadness seep in my bones. Perhaps because, the awareness, that it is more than just the death of the chracter, because it is also the death of an actor. It is as completely real as a death in TV could be. The grief was overwhelming. yo ucould, see the family was a real family.
And I felt like my dad wasn't there anymore.
g'night
Tuesday, April 26
Sunday, April 24
Inspired by Nabilla
Listening to TaxiRide - Icecream.
yum yum
I find it amusing that it is possible to pretty up the word Casino in English by using Integrated Resorts as a euphemisim whereas in Tamil( as I heard from the tamil news), they call it a
soothata koodam which literally means "gambling den". Talking about calling a spade, not even a spade but rather a spade as a stick used to dig.
Take that Singapore!
yum yum
I find it amusing that it is possible to pretty up the word Casino in English by using Integrated Resorts as a euphemisim whereas in Tamil( as I heard from the tamil news), they call it a
soothata koodam which literally means "gambling den". Talking about calling a spade, not even a spade but rather a spade as a stick used to dig.
Take that Singapore!
Saturday, April 23
Friday, April 22
Val did a post, and quite an introspective one at that, about whether we actually matter, whether anything we do has an impact.
Well, I think NO. Yes, a big fat emphatic NO.NO, we don't matter because we can never change the whole world. People move on, Hitler would be passe. Perhaps, the enormity of it is to much to take at a go but even 200 years down it, people are not going to remember, much less 500 years or a century later! It seems important because we are in it now, hence the griping of it in previous article but hell, who am I kidding? I knew it deep down, that history is more about right now then about then.Even right now its happening! An Australian women flew a Nazi flag because it amused her 4 yr old and when asked about her huge gaffe, she said that she had no idea of its significance and in reply, her neightbour commented that a person had to truly be ignorant to not know the offensiveness of it.Its happening!! and its been what - 60 years since the war ended.
The sad fact, is no matter how much u learn about palentology and the Mayan civilisation and marvel at it, its not a key factor in our lives. You stop marvel and feel insignificant for a while and then u go back to your life. And that's what going to happen later.
Whatever you do right now, you do it for yourself. Its not cynical or selfish, its true. And that makes it the reason why you don't matter. Because everybody's too busy living to care and if tomorrow comes, you'll just be a statistic.
Come back another day and I will also argue against myself. :)
Well, I think NO. Yes, a big fat emphatic NO.NO, we don't matter because we can never change the whole world. People move on, Hitler would be passe. Perhaps, the enormity of it is to much to take at a go but even 200 years down it, people are not going to remember, much less 500 years or a century later! It seems important because we are in it now, hence the griping of it in previous article but hell, who am I kidding? I knew it deep down, that history is more about right now then about then.Even right now its happening! An Australian women flew a Nazi flag because it amused her 4 yr old and when asked about her huge gaffe, she said that she had no idea of its significance and in reply, her neightbour commented that a person had to truly be ignorant to not know the offensiveness of it.Its happening!! and its been what - 60 years since the war ended.
The sad fact, is no matter how much u learn about palentology and the Mayan civilisation and marvel at it, its not a key factor in our lives. You stop marvel and feel insignificant for a while and then u go back to your life. And that's what going to happen later.
Whatever you do right now, you do it for yourself. Its not cynical or selfish, its true. And that makes it the reason why you don't matter. Because everybody's too busy living to care and if tomorrow comes, you'll just be a statistic.
Come back another day and I will also argue against myself. :)
Thursday, April 21
I got the law interview letter
[!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]
I was being such a "kanchiong" loser [quote Jo]and waiting near the post box today. hahahahha.
Well, I haven't done that since I was a kid. I used to wait in anticipation for the postman to drop in the letters into the letterbox. Sometimes, a realy nice postman would give me the letters straight in my hand and I'd refuse and make him drop into the box just so I could open it and take out the letters.
Digression over
I got the law interview letter!!!!!!
Ok Flurry of thoughts..coherency not guaranteed.
I was reading Time's latest issue about the 100 icons of Time and it just struck me, during history lessons, how I used to marvel that I was there when the Berlin wall fell. Ok, this is hard to phrase. I was chronoloigically and physically there but I was completely unaware of the events that were happening. I fear that I probably forced my dad to switch channels to watch Seaseme Street. I know, it is probably because I was 5, and considering my intelligence level NOW, I can safely tell you that it probabaly wasn't alot then. But yet, right now, when I'm old enough to appreciate the gravity of the world situation, its still feels like I am chronologically and physically here, but I'm still floating elsewhere.
Why don't I feel like I'm in the midst of history, when I'm right in it?
I don't know how the rest feel about this, but the fact remains is that we lived - living through the Orange Revolution, to see a Gulf War TWO, to see America living out the aftereffects of the Cold War, to see Asia rise as a new empire, to see a world disaster manifest itself and YET, unable to feel the true consequence of it, unable to feel that we are in the making of history, unable to grapple that 20 years from today, kids will be asking us how was it to live in such a climate and perhaps, I may just have to tell then what my dad told me about the CMC - "It was not that dramatic, lestways not the way it was in your notes, perhaps because India was non aligned then, but I honestly don't remember it all that much".
I refuse to believe, that during the Cuban Missile Crisis, it was like that!
Is this complacency?
I don't know! I, the romantic, just feel a bit disappointed and yes, sad, that perhaps, history is not for the common man after all. It is not for us to feel for the events but to just be silent witmesses and accept that unless something affected us DIRECTLY, it is but another event in another part of the world which will soon blow over. someday.
History is perhaps, just meant to be romanticised and hence, indeed, just meant to be read and not lived.
[!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]
I was being such a "kanchiong" loser [quote Jo]and waiting near the post box today. hahahahha.
Well, I haven't done that since I was a kid. I used to wait in anticipation for the postman to drop in the letters into the letterbox. Sometimes, a realy nice postman would give me the letters straight in my hand and I'd refuse and make him drop into the box just so I could open it and take out the letters.
Digression over
I got the law interview letter!!!!!!
Ok Flurry of thoughts..coherency not guaranteed.
I was reading Time's latest issue about the 100 icons of Time and it just struck me, during history lessons, how I used to marvel that I was there when the Berlin wall fell. Ok, this is hard to phrase. I was chronoloigically and physically there but I was completely unaware of the events that were happening. I fear that I probably forced my dad to switch channels to watch Seaseme Street. I know, it is probably because I was 5, and considering my intelligence level NOW, I can safely tell you that it probabaly wasn't alot then. But yet, right now, when I'm old enough to appreciate the gravity of the world situation, its still feels like I am chronologically and physically here, but I'm still floating elsewhere.
Why don't I feel like I'm in the midst of history, when I'm right in it?
I don't know how the rest feel about this, but the fact remains is that we lived - living through the Orange Revolution, to see a Gulf War TWO, to see America living out the aftereffects of the Cold War, to see Asia rise as a new empire, to see a world disaster manifest itself and YET, unable to feel the true consequence of it, unable to feel that we are in the making of history, unable to grapple that 20 years from today, kids will be asking us how was it to live in such a climate and perhaps, I may just have to tell then what my dad told me about the CMC - "It was not that dramatic, lestways not the way it was in your notes, perhaps because India was non aligned then, but I honestly don't remember it all that much".
I refuse to believe, that during the Cuban Missile Crisis, it was like that!
Is this complacency?
I don't know! I, the romantic, just feel a bit disappointed and yes, sad, that perhaps, history is not for the common man after all. It is not for us to feel for the events but to just be silent witmesses and accept that unless something affected us DIRECTLY, it is but another event in another part of the world which will soon blow over. someday.
History is perhaps, just meant to be romanticised and hence, indeed, just meant to be read and not lived.
Tuesday, April 19
Saturday, April 16
Tuesday, April 12
Quickies and more!
The foremost thing in my brain today was
after
fuck, could my feet hurt anymore
and
fuck, my court shoes suck)
fuck, I want a tattoo.
Court ended early so I went down to Kino to check out some photography books and there was this photo journal about celebrities and their tattoos. Now, I'm not some person to get all gooey over a bunch of famous people cooing about their body art but it really moved me in such a primal way that I came out feeling :
fuck, I want a tattoo.
Well, I did always want a tattoo but not in such a guttural crude expeltively needy way, as i did today.
So please help me.
get one I mean, not refer me to the psychiatrist.
In other planes of Vasudha land,
I just kept wanting to break into the two step, listening to Jamie Cullam, on the Taka escalator. I did a twirl but only beacuse no one was looking. I had an irresistable urge to break into a wild dance in the bus, listening to Neg Marron. I actually could picture, the faces but they'd probabaly look more horrified in real life. In my head, it was more of a MTV sorta thing, which of course, is not real.
God, I felt so amused today.
After Kino, I dropped my library @ orchard to return some books when suddenly my evil (read: intelligent) side took over and decided that it would be really useful for me to go pick up some intelligent magazines (read: The Economist) in an attempt to muscle up my brain, for my law interview so I don't come across as a bubbly air-head (which usually happens). So anyway, I pick about 3 magazines and sit in one of those comfy booth stool things that are installed in between shelves for people to sit and read. And lo behold, I lift my eyes and I swear to god, it was Dean Cain a la indian style in front of me. He was probably around 25ish(yes yes, I know. ancient but hey, brad pitt still makes the cut!) shirt, pants and loosened tie. One of those silver bracelets dangling from his nicely muscled arm. He was pretty fit (broad shoulders, narrow waist) and had a peekaboo tattoo on his collarbonish area. (any further, I fear I would blush, the shy virginal vestal maiden I am.hahahha) but without looking all anjack. A little stubble(very classy) He was wearing specs but trust me,it came across as boyishly handsome and this was one "nerd" I wouldn't mind. (you can see how much attention I was paying attention to The Econo-what)
ANYWAY, I was obviously trying to look all intelligent and absorbed in my magazine, hopeing he'd be impressed and cast an interested glance . ( He did glance with amusement when I stomped in to the booth and practically moaned when I took off my shoes. God, they must call it court shoes because it just grills you to death but I didn't know he was there). He did cast a bemused glance later well because I kept grinning, and smothering laughter like a deranged maniac. I mean, you would too,well because the fella...
the fella was...
the fella was reading...
the fella was reading a COMIC BOOK!!
*snort*
Not that there is anything wrong with that (though it is slightly unnerving to see a 25ish indian fella looking that good, reading a comic book.( No offence to chi) Jo first defended him saying that it was probably one of those Gaiman types of comic books but I told her it was anime and she viciously suggested that it was hentai. hahahhaha)
but it was just so amusing because here I was reading(sort of) The Economist, hoping he'd be impressed when there he was reading a bloody comic book. I mean, its not even ironic, its just darn funny and my mouth kept kicking up and I just had to grin in amusement. Its not one of those things you can contain inside. hahahahhaah. And then I kidan erm, giggled a bit adn he shot me a bemused glance.
Sadly, he left, probabaly the end of his yuppie lunch break.
Damn, these things are fun.
after
fuck, could my feet hurt anymore
and
fuck, my court shoes suck)
fuck, I want a tattoo.
Court ended early so I went down to Kino to check out some photography books and there was this photo journal about celebrities and their tattoos. Now, I'm not some person to get all gooey over a bunch of famous people cooing about their body art but it really moved me in such a primal way that I came out feeling :
fuck, I want a tattoo.
Well, I did always want a tattoo but not in such a guttural crude expeltively needy way, as i did today.
So please help me.
get one I mean, not refer me to the psychiatrist.
In other planes of Vasudha land,
I just kept wanting to break into the two step, listening to Jamie Cullam, on the Taka escalator. I did a twirl but only beacuse no one was looking. I had an irresistable urge to break into a wild dance in the bus, listening to Neg Marron. I actually could picture, the faces but they'd probabaly look more horrified in real life. In my head, it was more of a MTV sorta thing, which of course, is not real.
God, I felt so amused today.
After Kino, I dropped my library @ orchard to return some books when suddenly my evil (read: intelligent) side took over and decided that it would be really useful for me to go pick up some intelligent magazines (read: The Economist) in an attempt to muscle up my brain, for my law interview so I don't come across as a bubbly air-head (which usually happens). So anyway, I pick about 3 magazines and sit in one of those comfy booth stool things that are installed in between shelves for people to sit and read. And lo behold, I lift my eyes and I swear to god, it was Dean Cain a la indian style in front of me. He was probably around 25ish(yes yes, I know. ancient but hey, brad pitt still makes the cut!) shirt, pants and loosened tie. One of those silver bracelets dangling from his nicely muscled arm. He was pretty fit (broad shoulders, narrow waist) and had a peekaboo tattoo on his collarbonish area. (any further, I fear I would blush, the shy virginal vestal maiden I am.hahahha) but without looking all anjack. A little stubble(very classy) He was wearing specs but trust me,it came across as boyishly handsome and this was one "nerd" I wouldn't mind. (you can see how much attention I was paying attention to The Econo-what)
ANYWAY, I was obviously trying to look all intelligent and absorbed in my magazine, hopeing he'd be impressed and cast an interested glance . ( He did glance with amusement when I stomped in to the booth and practically moaned when I took off my shoes. God, they must call it court shoes because it just grills you to death but I didn't know he was there). He did cast a bemused glance later well because I kept grinning, and smothering laughter like a deranged maniac. I mean, you would too,well because the fella...
the fella was...
the fella was reading...
the fella was reading a COMIC BOOK!!
*snort*
Not that there is anything wrong with that (though it is slightly unnerving to see a 25ish indian fella looking that good, reading a comic book.( No offence to chi) Jo first defended him saying that it was probably one of those Gaiman types of comic books but I told her it was anime and she viciously suggested that it was hentai. hahahhaha)
but it was just so amusing because here I was reading(sort of) The Economist, hoping he'd be impressed when there he was reading a bloody comic book. I mean, its not even ironic, its just darn funny and my mouth kept kicking up and I just had to grin in amusement. Its not one of those things you can contain inside. hahahahhaah. And then I kidan erm, giggled a bit adn he shot me a bemused glance.
Sadly, he left, probabaly the end of his yuppie lunch break.
Damn, these things are fun.
Sunday, April 10
Chilling to Roland Vincent - L.S.D party
The problem with the human race is very very simple
We think too much.
We think too much.
The blog of the week is littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com. Not that there is anything wrong with it, because it well deserves to be one but I noticed a little link which was connected to well, bubblemunche.blogspot.com who is linked to mrbrown.com and xiaxue.blogspot.com. And then I noticed, that littlemissdrinkalot.blogspot.com is linked to the mrbrown.com and xiaxue.com as well and to almost all the people who are linked to bubblemunche.
Is this creeping anyone else out?
I mean, here you have a little group of friends who have witty and funny blogs, who are partially famous because of other famous people and make other partially famous because they are partially famous and you see where this is going?
It feels, like this little group is incestous in a bloggy way and it really creeps me out.
Six degrees of seperation creep me out. Really. I know its weird and neurotic and I don't know these people.... but why do people that you just meet should know other people that you know
Why can't everyone stay in their little spheres. They should just stay in there! The little spheres you have should not converge.
I know I KNOW, its nutty and weird but It really creeps me out.
Its like this whole thing, where my friend's ex was like known to everyone around me, including such that even my brother had interacted with the person and I it creeps me that a person I just met is so known around me before I even know the person. And I don't mean it in a famous way or anything. Its like you discover all these connectors that emit from you connecting you to that person, the minute you meet the person, like there is a NEED for you to connect to that person and these connections are not just a conversation starter.
I sound like some kinda nutty insular conspiracy theorist who got a few screws unhinged
THE SPHERES ARE CONVERGING. There is no better way to phrase it but yes.
six degrees of seperation is NOT FASCINATING
Is this creeping anyone else out?
I mean, here you have a little group of friends who have witty and funny blogs, who are partially famous because of other famous people and make other partially famous because they are partially famous and you see where this is going?
It feels, like this little group is incestous in a bloggy way and it really creeps me out.
Six degrees of seperation creep me out. Really. I know its weird and neurotic and I don't know these people.... but why do people that you just meet should know other people that you know
Why can't everyone stay in their little spheres. They should just stay in there! The little spheres you have should not converge.
I know I KNOW, its nutty and weird but It really creeps me out.
Its like this whole thing, where my friend's ex was like known to everyone around me, including such that even my brother had interacted with the person and I it creeps me that a person I just met is so known around me before I even know the person. And I don't mean it in a famous way or anything. Its like you discover all these connectors that emit from you connecting you to that person, the minute you meet the person, like there is a NEED for you to connect to that person and these connections are not just a conversation starter.
I sound like some kinda nutty insular conspiracy theorist who got a few screws unhinged
THE SPHERES ARE CONVERGING. There is no better way to phrase it but yes.
six degrees of seperation is NOT FASCINATING
Saturday, April 9
Thursday, April 7
*aww*
ok, thanks to all of you who just sent me emails, msgs and tags
but
I'm not dying!! haha
If I drama it, you guys drama it even more.
Actually, feel very embarrassed. hehehe
but, that's what friends are for *hugs*
besides, what got me more worried is that my doc said I might have problems while kissing ;)
I'm back in business ;)
but
I'm not dying!! haha
If I drama it, you guys drama it even more.
Actually, feel very embarrassed. hehehe
but, that's what friends are for *hugs*
besides, what got me more worried is that my doc said I might have problems while kissing ;)
I'm back in business ;)
Tuesday, April 5
Explain the weird noises...in a disgusting way
I really need to get the fear off...
a) The germs in my chest are holding a top-secret meeting, with their version of the media, thus explaining the wheezing
b) I really need to invent, a lil' vaccuum machine that could be inseted through the windpidpe, like an endoscope, so as to suck up the phlegm periodically, saving all the coughing
c) OR invent a fishing rod thingamajig which can hook out all that phlegm as well, because seriously I think its just this huge glob surrounding my lungs, (Personally, I think it looks like one of those wobbly, gloopy, globs of dried UHU glue, but that's just me)
d) Simply, find a way to cut open my chest and just extract all that phlegm.
Sadly, all these little childhood dreams were dashed when I found out, with a little help from biology, that phlegm cells mutate and multiply to produce excess phlegm and clog my small airway passages and thus, not being a one off trade, won't really help.
But what, got me really scared is that I'm 18 and I probably have the beginnings of adult asthma which isn't going away anytime soon. I'm re taking the steriods I used to take when I was a kid. My mum, of course, says that it used to be hell lot worse. I used to have blue lips and I would struggle to breathe so bad. And I used to sound like an express train. Seriously, I only had my first taste of cola when I was 12.
Then, I thought I out grew it. By 14, the atttacks slowed down to a little bit more than once in 2 months.
Then, I started taking Prednisiloyne again last year and it really, hit me yesterday, when I got prescribed Celistone ( I used to love taking this as a kid, not because I was a druggie, but because it reminded me of "My little pony". Like i have my own, precious stone.haha), that I'm stepping back into steroids when I was slowly weaned off it from 12 onwards. And I'm at 18, on the point of an adult, and no longer is there time to "outgrow" it.
And my doctor didn't help, by legitimately pointing out, that I'm never on regular medication and that so many people, even doctors, just die from asthma suffocation. Developing a high tolerance for physical pain is dangerous because most of them , I'm wound so tight but I never realise it until I'm at teh doc's office and she's be like "GO ON THE NEBULISER NOW!" "Asthma is not curable, its just controllable." -she'll say that.
But the deepest fear of having asthma is that, I don't want to be left behind NOW. Actually, that was always my fear - that asthma would put me back. I used to force myself to go to school as a kid right after the nebuliser and I don't know how, I'd come back home, normal. My other doctor, actually marvels at that. There was only once, in sec2, during My Fair Lady, that I had a really bad attack and I still refused to go home until the show ended.
I get attacks every time I have a really bad cold but I try not to acknowldge it until the third day onwards, when I really wheeze like nuts. haha.
I'd go for P.E. lessons, even though I was excusable.
Of course, skipping P.E. in JC was another matter. That was a kleptomaniac thrill.
No one can really tell if I'm sick cuz I would do mind control with my body, forcingmyself to breathe normal, when all I wanted to do was claw for air.
And now, when I finally thought I'm in the clear, I may be down for life.
Its not cancer *touch wood* or kidney stones *touch wood again* but I don't want to be dependent on any medication at the drop of a hat.
Well, I've finally confronted the real reason in such a drama mama way. hahah
I sound mildly psyhco but maybe if its all black and white, I'd finally do something about it.
Maybe. I'm just a stubborn fool.
I still want to invent the vaccuum cleaner thingamajig.
a) The germs in my chest are holding a top-secret meeting, with their version of the media, thus explaining the wheezing
b) I really need to invent, a lil' vaccuum machine that could be inseted through the windpidpe, like an endoscope, so as to suck up the phlegm periodically, saving all the coughing
c) OR invent a fishing rod thingamajig which can hook out all that phlegm as well, because seriously I think its just this huge glob surrounding my lungs, (Personally, I think it looks like one of those wobbly, gloopy, globs of dried UHU glue, but that's just me)
d) Simply, find a way to cut open my chest and just extract all that phlegm.
Sadly, all these little childhood dreams were dashed when I found out, with a little help from biology, that phlegm cells mutate and multiply to produce excess phlegm and clog my small airway passages and thus, not being a one off trade, won't really help.
But what, got me really scared is that I'm 18 and I probably have the beginnings of adult asthma which isn't going away anytime soon. I'm re taking the steriods I used to take when I was a kid. My mum, of course, says that it used to be hell lot worse. I used to have blue lips and I would struggle to breathe so bad. And I used to sound like an express train. Seriously, I only had my first taste of cola when I was 12.
Then, I thought I out grew it. By 14, the atttacks slowed down to a little bit more than once in 2 months.
Then, I started taking Prednisiloyne again last year and it really, hit me yesterday, when I got prescribed Celistone ( I used to love taking this as a kid, not because I was a druggie, but because it reminded me of "My little pony". Like i have my own, precious stone.haha), that I'm stepping back into steroids when I was slowly weaned off it from 12 onwards. And I'm at 18, on the point of an adult, and no longer is there time to "outgrow" it.
And my doctor didn't help, by legitimately pointing out, that I'm never on regular medication and that so many people, even doctors, just die from asthma suffocation. Developing a high tolerance for physical pain is dangerous because most of them , I'm wound so tight but I never realise it until I'm at teh doc's office and she's be like "GO ON THE NEBULISER NOW!" "Asthma is not curable, its just controllable." -she'll say that.
But the deepest fear of having asthma is that, I don't want to be left behind NOW. Actually, that was always my fear - that asthma would put me back. I used to force myself to go to school as a kid right after the nebuliser and I don't know how, I'd come back home, normal. My other doctor, actually marvels at that. There was only once, in sec2, during My Fair Lady, that I had a really bad attack and I still refused to go home until the show ended.
I get attacks every time I have a really bad cold but I try not to acknowldge it until the third day onwards, when I really wheeze like nuts. haha.
I'd go for P.E. lessons, even though I was excusable.
Of course, skipping P.E. in JC was another matter. That was a kleptomaniac thrill.
No one can really tell if I'm sick cuz I would do mind control with my body, forcingmyself to breathe normal, when all I wanted to do was claw for air.
And now, when I finally thought I'm in the clear, I may be down for life.
Its not cancer *touch wood* or kidney stones *touch wood again* but I don't want to be dependent on any medication at the drop of a hat.
Well, I've finally confronted the real reason in such a drama mama way. hahah
I sound mildly psyhco but maybe if its all black and white, I'd finally do something about it.
Maybe. I'm just a stubborn fool.
I still want to invent the vaccuum cleaner thingamajig.
Serious Musings
Scared.
I just am. It was inevitable that I would realise it. But not at 18. I feel very very young. It is very scary to realise the high threshold one has for physical pain. To continue with laboured breathing.
Oh well.
I just am. It was inevitable that I would realise it. But not at 18. I feel very very young. It is very scary to realise the high threshold one has for physical pain. To continue with laboured breathing.
Oh well.
Saturday, April 2
For the first time in my very short life, I have no voice
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
and it hurts.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Literally.
My god, it does. I'm all hoarse adn not even in the sexy geet way. I just sound generally , well un understandable. Like a pre pubescent boy on the brink of manhood where, his voice goes all crackly. Except well mine is painful. And I bet you are laughing. This is kinda like the time Gau bet me money that I would not be able to shut up but I did. Except this is involuntary. Urgh. Pain.
Listening to Michael Buble - Feeling Good
Should really stop listening to these slow smooth velvety swing songs. But sooooooooo nice to listen to.
I had quite a number of things to say but well,
sometimes
.
.
.
.
.
.
silence is golden
But not when you have no voice.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
and it hurts.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Literally.
My god, it does. I'm all hoarse adn not even in the sexy geet way. I just sound generally , well un understandable. Like a pre pubescent boy on the brink of manhood where, his voice goes all crackly. Except well mine is painful. And I bet you are laughing. This is kinda like the time Gau bet me money that I would not be able to shut up but I did. Except this is involuntary. Urgh. Pain.
Listening to Michael Buble - Feeling Good
Should really stop listening to these slow smooth velvety swing songs. But sooooooooo nice to listen to.
I had quite a number of things to say but well,
sometimes
.
.
.
.
.
.
silence is golden
But not when you have no voice.
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