194. diversity
Coughing so hard I have that puke-ish feeling from purging the lungs. SO ANNOYING why can't this stupid virus just go away. It literally moved down from my nose, to my tonsils, throat and lungs. Haven't felt sick in the longest time and I don't sick. Besides losing my voice and coughing my lungs out. :/ Somehow every time I feel sick, I get better when I get up, dance and do some strenuous stuff. Studying just makes my cough worst.
Omg it's 3am and it doesn't feel like it, probably because of that big cup of warm caramel macchiato I had in the afternoon:) I'm awake! Just did the song cut for PLL and starting on social psych. One more chapter before I rest, let's go:)
The novelist Jerzy Kosinski filled his novels with vivid, moving stories from his personal life, which included many hardships. Kosinski himself eventually committed suicide. The title of his novel The Painted Bird refers to a story in which a character would capture a black bird and then, holding the blindfolded bird in one hand, dab it with different colours of the rainbow. When no black feathers remained visible, he would remove the hood and release the frightened animal.
The bird would quickly soar up into the sky, a beautiful spectacle of flying colours. Soon, another black bird would come by and strike at it, however, and then another and another, until the painted bird disappeared in a mass of black birds that tore it to pieces.
The story captures a sad truth of nature.
Omg it's 3am and it doesn't feel like it, probably because of that big cup of warm caramel macchiato I had in the afternoon:) I'm awake! Just did the song cut for PLL and starting on social psych. One more chapter before I rest, let's go:)
The novelist Jerzy Kosinski filled his novels with vivid, moving stories from his personal life, which included many hardships. Kosinski himself eventually committed suicide. The title of his novel The Painted Bird refers to a story in which a character would capture a black bird and then, holding the blindfolded bird in one hand, dab it with different colours of the rainbow. When no black feathers remained visible, he would remove the hood and release the frightened animal.
The bird would quickly soar up into the sky, a beautiful spectacle of flying colours. Soon, another black bird would come by and strike at it, however, and then another and another, until the painted bird disappeared in a mass of black birds that tore it to pieces.
The story captures a sad truth of nature.