Sick

There comes a time in man's life--once, twice, or many times, depending on the sovereign plans of the Lord--when he feels he cannot do anything useful. The idea I am suggesting is not alien to most of us. When this malady invades our body system, we cannot do anything to stop it immediately. Science has shown us ways of defeating it, but so far, an instantaneous relief from this has not yet been discovered.

I am talking about feeling sick.

It's a bad condition. So here I am, in front of the PC. My eyes are bloodshot and watery--people would ask me, "Did you cry?" My palms are cold as ice; they feel like they've been exposed to a zero-Kelvin type of coldness. In contrast, my skin--especially my neck--feels like it has been cooked in the oven for thirty minutes. So far, I have not gone out of the dormitory without my coat.

Forgive me for this cynicism, but I have to say this anyway: when I wake up early in the morning, I feel like it's snowing in Manila, which is, of course, very unlikely since the place is in the Tropics. However, I was asked once, "Why does it feel so cold?"

The only thing I thought of was that the Philippines has at last been included as one of the states of the US. Hahaha.

As I end this rather brief entry, my throat never ceases to itch. It itches everytime I breathe--it's as if there are pieces of feather combined with the air.

Pardon me. But I have to execute this routine that is very familiar to sick people: coughing.