Happy Birthday, Liam Gallagheeeerrrr! Hindi Ka Ipiiiiiiis!
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Barely survived this morning’s second Philo long test (I love learning about ethics. I swear I do. But Kaelin’s test format just falls under the principle of asceticism.). Completed the bulk of my thesis, reaching that point when all you can do is say, “Screw it. Eto na, Lorenzana,” and pray that all those months of work and panic weren’t for naught. Read a particularly nasty bit of nastiness online that nasty supported nasty nasty my belief nasty that she is nasty nothing but a nasty nasty nasty nasty yaaaak kadiriiiiiiiiiiii ipis kaaaaaa ipiiiiiiiiiiiiiis I can’t even finish this sentence kasi ipis kaaaa ipiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis. *Stomp. Squuuueeelllllllllcccchhhhhhhhhh.*
(Did you know that the white glop that comes out of all the various ipises of the world is a mixture of blood and fat? If I stomp on her, will she release that same white glop or will rainbows and sunshine and starlight sparkle out, accompanied by Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus? I’m so curious.)
This is supposed to be the start of hell month, but it doesn’t feel that way. I feel more stifled than stressed. Whatever the reason, I guess the dream I had a few nights ago was the best sign of all this.
Basically, in my dream, my nose was blocked up by a lot of clear snot, snot like the hardened residue from a glue stick. There was so much snot that I couldn’t breathe, and for some reason, I’d only remember how to breathe through my mouth at the very last second, just before I could pass out. My dream went something like this: nose stuffed can’t breathe shneerrrrk shneeerrrrk oh no can’t breathe shneeeerk shneerrrrk can’t breathe shneeerrrk can’t breathe help shneeerrrrk will die can’t breathe shneeeeerrrrk help help shneeeeeeeerk dying help dying shnerk dyi—shner—dyi—oh wait, my mouth. This went on for quite a while, until I was able to drag myself to the Katipunan 7-11 to get a Vicks VapoRub stick. The thing was, I was torn between choosing the mild one, which I was used to, and the heavy-duty, this-will-make-you-go-blind one, which I knew would work better but scared me. I think I chose the scary one, if I’m not mistaken, though I can’t remember if it worked. Anyway, what I do remember is that stuffed-up, suffocated feeling, and I guess the dream did hint at how I would feel for the succeeding days. A feeling that I was trapped but not really.
But not really. I just want this sem to be over.
posted by marguerite @ 5:07 PM
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