I'm coming down with the flu... and I'm about to bitch about it.

Having the Flu sucks smelly balls because:

1. You don't usually die from it, but you still feel like you're going to, so it's going through all of it for nothing. Like, if you were going to die, it justifies feeling like, well, shit, cause you're done with it, and you're screwed. But no, you feel miserable, tired, worthless... and then in a few days, you're ok again, and your body, the one who betrayed you by not doing its job of killing off the viruses (damn body, I used to like you so much... no soup for you!), goes on about its business as usual.
2. Your face hurts... Actually, the area around my nose bothered me for a while, I'm guessing it had something to do with my sinuses or something... or it's just about to fall off, either way, I don't really care at this point.
3. You can't breathe... your nose gets clogged up, which normally is annoying but never as much as it is when you're trying to sleep. If you, like me, like to sleep on your stomach with your head turned to the side, you're in for one of the most annoying things ever. You turn to one side, let's say left, and you start to feel how your right nostril gets unclugged... while your left one gets dead shut, and mucus (foul green, slimy substance, damn you!!!) starts to accumulate... sometimes getting to the point of dripping down your nose, making it impossible to sleep. You turn to the other, and the same thing happens... oh, and if you turn your head up, both nostrils get clogged up and you can't breathe at all, so you're fucked in the ass with a burning log either way.
4. You're permanently annoyed. Now, I know you're thinking "but I'm already permanently annoyed, it's my way of living" and I'm on your side... but this is a different annoyance, and what's worse is, since you also feel like shit, you can't really go on a killing (hitting, kicking, any sort of phisical violence will do) spree like you usually do when you're annoyed. On another thought, imagine if you will, a sniper on a roof sneezing as he's getting ready to shoot... Imagine that the happy face he was making out while shooting off a guy gets crooked, that ain't right.
5. I mentioned your body gives out on you.. but I have to say it again... You feel heavy, and powerless, and that sucks the most, cause it reduces you to a sniffling, sneezing scumbag.
So that's it... I have the flu and I want to be put into a medically induced come till it passes... or till there's something important to wake up for, like waffles.
Sod off.

Lyrics...

Solo porque en estos tiempos, las canciones me dicen mas que mis palabras.. muy probablemente porque no quiero elaborar las ideas.

1. Fragile, by Maria Mena

I've been walking around all day,Thinking
I think I have a problem,I think I think too much
I've been taught to hold back my tears,And avoid them
But you make pain into something I could touch
I've been walking around all day,Laughing
I think I'd be better off without you here
And I bet you're sweet and hard to get over
So I'll cry and people will stop and stare
Now that's okay. Let them stop and stare
Cause I am fragile
I am hopeless
I'm not perfect
But I am free
I've been walking around all day,Waiting
And waiting is all I seem to do
Cause I never get it unless I'm fed it
But this time i'll just have to
Yeah this time i'll just have to
And I'm fragile
I am hopeless
I'm not perfect
But I am free
Say you're not around, Am I finished?
If you're not around, that's too bad
Hope you're safe and sound, not alone now
Cause you know I believe in you
I'm still fragile,I'm still hopeless,I'm not perfect,But I am free

Esta primera fue un cambio... Para no escuchar una cancion que iba a recordarme a alguien a quien no queria recordar, escuche esta... Y fue la elección correcta.

2. Persiana Americana, Soda Stereo

Yo te prefiero, fuera de foco, inalcanzable
Yo te prefiero, irreversible, casi intocable
Tus ropas caen lentamente
soy un espia, un espectador
y el ventilador desgarrandote
sé que te excita pensar hasta donde llegaré
Es difícil de creer, creo que nunca lo podré saber
sólo así yo te veré, a través de mi persiana americana
Es una condena agradable, el instante previo
es como un desgaste, una necesidad, más que un deseo
Estamos al borde de la cornisa, casi a punto de caer
no sientes miedo, sigues sonriendo, sé que te excita pensar hasta donde llegaré
Es difícil de creer, creo que nunca lo podré saber
sólo así yo te veré a través de mi persiana americana
Tus ropas caen lentamente, soy un espia, un espectador
y el ventilador desgarrandote, sé que te excita pensar hasta donde llegaré
Es difícil de creer, creo que nunca lo podré saber
sólo así yo te veré,a través de mi persiana americana
Lo que pueda suceder, no gastes fuerzas para comprender
sólo así yo te veré, a través de mi persiana americana.

Todo empezo con una conversacion y la primera frase.. pero mientras mas la escucho, y mas veo la letra... mas me creo que tengo una persiana americana...no se si llego el momento de pasar a traves de ella o no, luego veremos.

That's all for now, folks.
Ah, y voy a enviar un mensaje a ver si llega a su destino... It's not that I didn't want to... I just wanna see how far you'll go.
Toodle-oo!

Update.

She and the mistery boy (she took a liking to calling him that) crossed paths twice more so far.
One time, again, on the bus. She saw him, and realized how unavailable she seemed, reading a book and listening to music.
She saw him sit down, not on one of the bus' seats, but on the steps. Luckily one of the doors of the bus was broken and he had that space to sit, or he'd had been trampled to death. She couldn't stop looking at him, she found him interesting... Besides, he had a cut off white shirt with funny words written on it, looking like it was made for him or by him.. she liked the detail.
She felt guilty for having a chair and did a good deed by giving it to an old lady that got on the bus, and he turned to look at her for a brief second.
When he was getting out, his bag got stuck on the bus, and she tried to help him with it, but he went for the more phisical approach of pulling on it till it got free, almost breaking her nail on the process. Thankfully, he didn't, or she'd be forced to hunt him down and kick him.
She left him behind again, this time walking normally.
And then she saw him yet again, this time with a black and white shirt, and he seemed to have the hat glued to his head, he always wore it, apparently.
She saw him walk by, and smiled at her sillyness...
She liked the possibilities of just being able to imagine almost everything about him...
She was definitely a weird one, but like she told a friend, she was just a compressed file, and not many were able to decompress her properly.

She doomed herself to be an outsider.
She was on the bus to school, a typical, venezuelan, crowded bus.
And she saw him.
Not too tall, kind of broody and dark, but not emo and not depressed.
He just had an aura about him, being so serious and looking into space, not really looking at anything, kind of suspended.
And she wanted to know what was going on in his head, what he was thinking.
She noticed a lot of things.
The scar on his face, she wanted to know what was its story.. and she imagined herself randomly asking what was the scar from... but she didn't.
His "hat" which reminded her of old happy times, and the fun she'd had with hats like that on other people.
The hole in his shirt, a green shirt, and the fact that it didn't look too worn, or too new.. it was just right, like he was used to it, or just didn't care much about it.
His shorts, and his hairy legs.. she'd have lots of fun pulling on them.
His eyes.. they were dark, but very pretty as eyes go.
His lips were normal.. she liked looking at lips, she usually liked them not too thick and not too thin, just right to kiss.
He opened his mouth at some point.. and she noticed he had a crooked tooth.
She enjoyed that.
But she didn't talk to him.
Instead she made this game on her head... she had to outwalk him.
She usually walked fast, and always enjoyed leaving crowds behind as she came into her school.
But she noticed he did too, and she liked him more for it.
But she was a proud one, this girl, and years of walking with her parents had prepared her for this moment.
So she crossed the street, and his path, just steps ahead.
But he walked on.
She crossed him again, still a few steps ahead of him, and she was happy, smiling to herself.
He still walked close behind, but never could outwalk her (Boy, she was loving her lovely, comfy, rugged shoes now).
She felt him, still close behind her.
He took another path and she crossed him one last time.
She then saw him greeting and sitting with some friends.
And she walked over to her work, to another day.
She questioned the moon that night, but she wasn't provinding much answers, as usual.
She knew the answers were there, she just didn't want to see them at that point.