sick.
with flu.
ack ack!

i feel a mini essay coming on...
ok, this is what being cooped up all day at home does to you.
(sorry eugene if i didnt sleep at the designated 11pm time. cant sleep lah dey. napped the whole morning and afternoon sia. i ask you can sleep at night or not? haha.)

The door flings open. A young lady of twenty trudges out. Her hair dishevelled, her eyes sunken. Panting, she lungs across the sidewalk. I need more! She thought. Her mind in a whirl, the entire world spinning around her. She drags her tired body along the gravel sidewalk of lovely San Francisco. The night was young and the wintry air was crisp. She shivers, her skin twitching. She passes by little girls clutching their mothers' hands. She passes by drunken tramps on wooden benches. The only thing she needed to soothe her was that. The only thing she thought of was that. She needed more of that.
She passedsboutiques, with inanimate mannequins in shop windows. With plastic smiles on their faces. She stopped for a moment. Thinking about the polluted environment in the office of Farrows and Mayers. Screw all them bastards and bitches! She thought. Their fake smiles, their insincerity. Their insatiable greed for all money and lust. Seeing faceless people putting on facades everyday, she could not take it any longer. They are all just like those damned mannequins. She crumpled in a heap right there and then. Blinking back hot tears, she brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes as she thought about all the treachery and politicking that went on in Farrows and Mayers. "I can just pull a trigger on all of them. I know I can," she murmered. She then stood up, brushing away at invisible specks of dirt on her expensive cashmere skirt. She looked down at her Salvatore Ferragamos and a single tear fell, staining the sidewalk a dark grey.
She went on to the next shop- Harry's cafe. She slowly pushed the glass door open and dragged herself in. Putting one tired foot in front of the other. She glances around, happy families crowded together in booths, couples snuggling together in dark corners, whispering sweet nothings to each other. "I have nothing left..." she whispers. She wipes away an invisible tear. A deep sense of dread and loneliness filling her very soul. She goes to the counter and puts down ten dollars, "one treble whisky please."

ok, something weird here. all that trouble just for a whisky? haha.
whatever. alcohol...