When his life was ruined, his family killed, his farm destroyed, Job knelt down on the ground and yelled up to the heavens, “Why God? Why me?” and the thundering voice of God answered, “There’s just something about you that pisses me off.
— Stephen King, Storm of the Century
Yes, either that or God really loves you. It's absurdly difficult to find Stephen King here. Anyway, the political situation in this country is getting funnier day by day. By 'situation', I mean a humorless joke that's been repeated on a broken vinyl endlessly from a turntable to another. Life, in my humble pea-alike eyes, is so damn fair. Why argue with a fella for opinions when you can enjoy a bowl of ramen and a glass of rice water alone? It's unnecessary for a man to pull the trigger if he can afford an assassin. So is it for you. You don't have to clean the mess if the maid arrives twice a week.
I'm raising a kitten. Hedi, his name is. Every night, Hedi jumps on my bed, demands a massage and either chews on my shoe strings or my unplugged, unused electric wires. He falls asleep after an hour and freely takes the center of the bed. I love Hedi. He's so smart, handsome and independent. Sometimes his paws get stuck in my draped-over-the-chair pants and he keeps swinging back and forth like Tarzan. Big greyish eyes and waving tail.
Have I told you about my sensitive ears? I wrote about it in such a sentimental post that I had to delete it later. My ears are a little different from others'. Particularly, my inner ears are made of sensitive fibers and they react to the sound quite dramatically. I can't use earphones, I hardly use headphones, and Q-tip cotton is my nightmare. When I'm sick or nervous, my ears get achy and itchy. It affects my mood and generates anger. Back in high school, while being on the bus, I saw my friend plugging her earphones like the same thing she did every day, it stirred a big question in me. "How come your ears never ache?", I asked. She looked at me and smiled in the most satisfying way I couldn't envy any less. The doctor told me it was a condition, not a disease to cure, and I'd have to live with it for good. Annoying and special much.
I'm watching Futurama, created by the same father of Bart Simpson. It's hilarious, witty and wicked. Fry resembles me so accurately and Bender is like 'Damn!'. I laughed like nuts while chugging tea. Not sipping, chugging. So damn good I finished my egg sandwiches in the blink of an eye.
Alright. I have to cycle now. See you laterz.
