Life Force

Random thought:

I want to donate blood.

“Of all that is written, I love only what a person has written with his own blood”

- Friedrich Nietzsche

My Hand Met A Flying Ball

So I'm procrastinating again. But meh, who cares?

A story:

Once upon a time, in an old dungeon in an undisclosed location, there was a committee. This committee was comprised of several evil tyrants who had control over all the school systems in the world. These evil group of tyrants were the ones who decided what was to be taught in which school, which teachers were to be hired, and other shite like that.

After having just decreed that Mathematics was to be taught in the most boring way possible by the fiercest, foulest, evilest teachers ever, one of the evil tyrants brought up an issue. This particular evil tyrant was also a philosopher.

He said, "Gentlemen. There is one more thing we need to discuss. Indeed, we have already passed laws and regulations that will surely infuriate each and every student in existence. But it is not enough - we need to do more. All these restrictions that we have passed, they will forget in an instance when in the company of fellow students. No, we need something. Something that will remind them of just how cruel the universe is. We need something that will strip them of any ounce of self-confidence they might be able to gain from the other subjects.

Therefore, I propose the creation of another subject - Gym.

Yes, dear members of This League of Incredibly Fatheaded Tyrants. With this subject, we shall force the asthmatics to run, the short people to jump twice their own height, the skinny people to lift more than thrice their own body weight. With this subject, we shall injure them! With this subject, we shall remind them that no, life is not fair, there is no sense in even trying. With this subject - we shall finally crush their spirits once and for all!"

And the other tyrants jumped to their feet and applauded loudly. Yes, yes they'll create this subject, they cried. They shall make it obligatory, and they shall make it the one subject that students cannot drop.

At this, the meeting ended. The tyrants disbanded and returned to their respective lairs. There they all sat back in sadistic glee, grinning wistfully at the suffering they had unleashed upon the world.

The end.

-----

Yes, I was injured.

For the very first time in my life, I fractured a bone. True, it was nothing but a mere hairline fracture, but don't let facts diminish the drama.

My very first fracture ever. And I got it from playing handball. In gym. *makes a face*

To describe the event in detail: we were supposed to practice tossing the ball and catching it. My partner tossed it, and I was about to catch it. But gravity, the ball, circumstances, and Fate had different ideas. The ball met with my unfortunately outstretched finger and smashed it backwards.

I cried out in pain.

I wouldn't really mind... but it's my favorite finger! Tis the middle finger of my right hand. How am I supposed to surreptitiously flip off Kumajanai now??

This is what it looked like yesterday;




And this is how it looked like today:



Fun.

So today I went to the doctor. An awesome thing happened. The doctor called me in, and as I walked through the treshold, she held out her hand. I took the hand without thinking, letting social protocol control me. So yes, she squeezed my already injured hand. Fun!

Then she gave me a referral for an X-ray at our local hospital. I decided to go after school.

Around 3 pm, my mother and I meet in front of the hospital. We found the Radiology department, showed the referral to the nurse at the counter, she told us to wait. At this point, I was wondering if and when House would show up.

Finally, around half past 3, I got called in. They X-rayed me poor hand, and told me to wait again for the results. However, it being the middle of shift changes, it might take some time. Mother suggested we wait it out at the canteen.

Around 4 pm, I went back up to wait for the results. 15 minutes later, a nurse came out and handed me my results. She told me to "take the elevator down to the 2nd floor and follow the blue line." I thanked the pseudo-wizard of Oz and made my way to the indicated floor.

Well first I had to pick me mom up from the canteen. But whatever.

On my way down, I read my results. The word "fracture" stuck out like well, a sore thumb. I cringed.

So up to the 2nd floor we went. Turns out, it was the ER department. Great.

To spare you the long and tedious descriptions, I got called in to the Orthopedics section at around 5:30 pm. Nearly a whole fucking hour.

And what do they do there?



For fucks sake - I could've done this on me own!! I had to wait over an hour for this??

Didn't help that the nurse very nearly poked me in the face with a pair of scissors as she was trying to stuff the cotton back between my fingers.

Bahh.

I luff it though. xD

Life's journey is not to arrive safely in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting "Holy shit... what a ride!"

Anchors and Melancholy

I apologize for the shite poetry I posted last time :P
I was in class with Kumajanai, see, and just typed the first verses that came to mind.

But anyway, just dropping by to inform the world that I am tired. So incredibly tired. Tired... of things, is the best way I can put it.

"Have something to look forward to everyday," she said. "Something that makes you happy. A reward."

An anchor.

But you don't understand, I thought. I had an anchor... but now it's gone.

Melancholy sees the worst of things,—things as they may be, and not as they are. It looks upon a beautiful face, and sees but a grinning skull.
- Christian Nestell Bovee

I once gave a lady two-and-twenty receipts against melancholy: one was a bright fire; another, to remember all the pleasant things said to her; another, to keep a box of sugar-plums on the chimney-piece and a kettle simmering on the hob. I thought this mere trifling at the moment, but have in after life discovered how true it is that these little pleasures often banish melancholy better than higher and more exalted objects; and that no means ought to be thought too trifling which can oppose it either in ourselves or in others.
- Sydney Smith

A Concert

Guitar riffs going off in my head
Angry flashes of blinding light
Somehow everything has become red
Nails dig in a fist clenched tight

Inanimate objects lose their life
They break in half, they wither, they die
Muscles clench, prepare for armed strife
Abundant rage expressed through a sigh

Inside my mind it's a concert all right
Fucking angry riffs, damn defeaning sounds
Drowning in the melody resonating through the night
Howl out your feelings, akin to the hounds

Vocal chords be scratched
In a long drawn scream
Emotions be unmatched
In this horrible waking dream

The guitars are still playing
Unheard by anyone but me
It is my angst they are relaying
No one else to drown but me

Is There?

'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'

Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'