i'm sick =)
like finally.
its been sucha long time since i was last down with fever.
oooh how i missed you.
it was 39.1 degrees celcius yesterday.
not my highest but..
hey. a fever is a fever.
*we're having human brains for dinner* =)

it all started on sunday, two days ago.

my family went out for dinner but i stayed home because i wanted to watch a tv show. i only found out that he wasn't happy about it after they came back. before they went out i sad i'll find something to eat at home. and if they wanted to buy anything dont buy too much. my mum said she'll buy fried oyster and i told her to buy the 3 dollars packet instead of the five dollars. when they came back, i found out that my dad bought chicken wings and fried oyster. he went to buy the EIGHT bucks fried oyster. and expected me to finish it all. like WTF. i was like fucking full la. i had raided the kitchen and ate like tonns of junk food and they came back. and he kept calling me to eat. even though i said when i'm hungry then i'll go and eat, he repeatedly called. like a tape recorder. when i finally went, he started calling my brother to eat. same thing. repeating over and over again. and my brother was also watching tv and my dad was starting to get very irritating. so i said "aiyah! if he's hungry he'll come and eat. dont need you to call." and to cut the long story short, he blew his top. slammed his hand on the glass table while ranting, washed his cup and threw the thingy you use to cover cups forcefully on the dishrack. it bounced out needless to say. and my dad was like. "you all say i never blow up right?" like. WTF.

i was pissed. he keeps ranting and ranting and ranting about oh how papa suffer for you all you dont know how much i sacrificed and never complain bla bla.
never complain? WTF. whats that then?
he complains and complains and complains and complains.
from what i see, he's just trying to get our pity.

so before i slept, my mum came to my room and was like. why papa so angry? i was still pissed. said a bunch of stuff that i cant remember except. forget it. i'm wrong. i'm always wrong and he's always right. and my dad heard it. when i went to apologise, he was like. say sorry for what? i'm right and you're wrong right? so say sorry for what.
i was thinking. eh motherfucker. i'm saying sorry to you. you either accept it or not. dont waste my fucking time.
and he went on and on about the sacrifice and never complain crap work so hard for what he's the head of the house bla bla. and as usual, i switched off. one ear in, one ear out. like. why else would god give us two ears instead of one?

so as usual, he went on about my bad habits and bla bla. three things i remember was.

One. he blamed my behavior on america. the music and MTV and the people who i hang out with. hey. how else am i supposed to behave? like a nerd? like him? i picked up nothing from the world. i am happy the way i am. have a fucking problem with that?

Two. he said i had no friends. !@#$%^&*(). who's the one without friends? like. look who's talking. i have never picked up a phone call for him that isn't work-based. even calls regarding work are few. he has like an average of five phone calls a year. and he rarely uses his handphone. my dad has either little or no friends and clearly has a HUGE atitude problem. why else has he been constantly jobless after every contract ends??

Three. he asked me to be a prostitute. -you can continue degrading and degrading yourself until that level of a prostitude. why not be one since you have no value of yourself? like. what kinda fucking father asks his daughter to become a prostitute? i value every fucking part of myself. and a prostitute earns much more than him. seriously. he needs to have a good long fuck with my mum. i swear they havn't been fucking for years(my two brothers sleep with them every night).

that put me in a seriously bad mood.
about half an hour after the scolding/lashing/ranting/complaining ended, my mum came into my room and said some stuff. and i told her that he asked me to be a prostitute and she didn't say anything. after i closed the door, i cried. i dont know why. but i did. like. two years ago, i wanted to be a prostitute. cash flow like waterfalls. that was two years ago. now. i wanna open a club that'll rival zouk. i dont know how am i gonna do it. but. thats what i wanna be.

so, i was lying on my bed, hugging my pillow and crying when i suddenly stopped, sat up and asked myself. why should i cry over something my dad said? i went to my toilet, stared at myself in the mirror and for a moment, my mind was blank. a moment of pure bliss. even after i packed my bag, i was still pretty much awake. but with a slight hint of an impending headache.

so i made sure everyone was asleep, went down to the kitchen and raided the fridge and the top of the microwave oven where my mum kept all the unfinished prescriptions.
no. i wasn't trying to commit suicide. i am so beyond that. i value my life too much to end it just like that.
i was trying to get myself sleepy. so that i wouldn't think. if i wasn't sleepy and lay on my bed, i would think. and thinking is bad for me.
i took 3 tablespoon of my previous cough syrup that i didn't finish, 2 febrax(for my headache), one yellow tablet for runny nose and one white tablet for phleghm.
while waiting for the medicine to take effect, i took out the book melvin lent me and read it. brokeback mountain and other stories. brokeback moutain was like. so sad la. i want to watch the movie!!!
yea. oh. so like within fifteen minutes into the book, i felt my heart beating really heavily against my chest. and it was faster than normal. the kind that you get after drinking alot of alcohol except that my face wasn't red and i wasn't drunk.
dismissing it, i went to sleep at around two am when i finished the brokeback mountain story.

the next day or rather that morning, my heartrate was still faster than normal and i was taking in quick short breaths. shortness of breaths. whatever you call it . it was like that for the whole day. so i didn't go for math remedial and headed home. i took a nap and when i woke up before dinner, i had a fever. went to the doctor, gave me mc for today and tomorrow and no pe for the entire week.

yesterday was a sleepless night. i tossed and turned and couldn't get to sleep. and when i finally got to sleep, my alarm clock would ring(i woke up suprisingly) and i had to take my medication. and my prescription was to be taken every four hours. not six, not eight. four.

so here i am. blogging while others are in school.
i dont know whether what i did the night before had anything to do with my fever. but. hey. i'm sick. and thats all that matters.