Monster.
Blogging.
The word sounds like the ultimate 21st century joke to me, yet here I am making a fool of myself. I knew it was going to come to this, anyway. I just wonder why I had to do this now, when I'm about to be late for a meeting. All I know is that right now, this is the only thing that's keeping me from going nuts. Even ice cream is starting to lose its magic on me.
As weird as this may seem, I have to say that after that hospital incident, I noticed that I've been very angry/weird/melancholic lately. So, I just recovered from an acute febrile disease. When I heard that it was supposedly fatal, I wasn't shocked at all. What bothered me is that I imagined myself on a fifty-fifty situation: Tubes, blood, and needles everywhere. What else is that the bloody thought comes to mind every time I don't get my way or when I get hurt. I'm liking the idea, and I hate myself for it.
I'm scared of what I'm becoming...even if it's all in my head. I'm disguising myself as the crippled traveler when all I should be is a short version of the Good Samaritan.
To think I didn't even get blood transfusion to cause all this post personality change.
At the moment, I can't think of anything better than ice cream to remedy my poor head.
Oh crap, my meeting!