I have been gorging on “natural” cough syrups, over the counter decongestants, and mucolytic capsules (free from the office) these past 4 days and yet my inflamed throat seems to rage all the more in protest against my curative attempts to escape from this revolting and embarrassing condition.
In point of fact: I feel like dying.
Well no, not really. But I have been a victim of this exasperating illness for more than half a week now and there’s only so much I can do to make myself feel better. I fucking hate this fucking cold with the sore and itchy throat that fucking comes from post-nasal drip. In other news, I love how you can insert fucking in between nearly every other fucking word. Goodness. This discomfort is rotting away my sanity and sense of lingual propriety.
But fuck it.
Well, it’s been a while since I posted some life updates, so here’s one (five, actually) just in case I’d like to remember how much I wanted to rip my throat bloody on the 4th day of October in 2014.
1) I’m nearly done with Lolita, which took quite longer than I had expected. It’s a beautiful—if debatably inappropriate and scandalous—novel about an aged Humbert Humbert and his incestuous relationship with his prepubescent stepdaughter, Dolores Haze. By the time I’m halfway into the storyline, I had to pause and examine my own parameters of morality because I had fallen in sympathy with the horrid Humbert Humbert. This, I put all blame on the author’s remarkable use of language to twist and transfigure a supposedly indecent and repulsive inclination to a conceivable and almost acceptable state of affairs. I would have to stop myself at this point because I’m om the verge of writing a full review, which categorically deserves a separate post (most likely on goodreads). Read: 329 more words