Under the sea.

As of now, all I want to do is take that pen in front of me and continously jab my own throat so that it will stop making me cough. But, unfortunately, that will also kill me. So maybee not such a good idea.

OH. wait wait.

I want to be like Ariel in the Little Mermaid and let that crazy octopus lady take my voice box. Plus, my nose is so blocked I can no longer breathe through it so is that a clear indication that I'm living under water or what! I must be developing gills somewhere. And I haven't really felt the sun's warmth in so many days, I feel like I should stand at my window and sing 'Part of Your World' so that others would feel my pain. except that the crazy octopus lady would have already taken away my voice box.

all drama aside, appararently my mum's interpretation of independence is knowing when to run home for help when there is a need to. My interpretation of independence is NOT running home at every instant of illness. so as you can foresee, as soon as my mum found out, she forced me on a cab home and this was followed by a whole weekend of nagging.

I.just.want.soup.now.