It's been three years

It feels as if I'm returning to a self that I had locked away for so long. I had mostly forgotten about this blogspot I started in 2016. As I recall, it isn't for people to read, it was a place where I could arrange my thoughts into words. A cluttered mind, a clearer comprehension now.

Or so I thought.

I had the delight of reading through my old posts, it gave me some clarity about the things I was thinking about all that time gone by. Regrets do come to mind, I should have kept this practice going. 

So here I am, here you are. We're going to down this road again.

Shall we?

Meesa been waiting for you long, long time now

Oh brother. 

Yaohh :D

what is ology?

I bought this book called 'The Psychology Book' about a little more than a year ago. It just stood on my shelf, never have I turned a single page of it, until early this week that is.

Freud, Wundt and salivating dogs.

Yaohh :D

End it.

Have you ever held a pack of cigarettes in your hand?
I have.

Have you ever held a cigarette between your lips?
I have.

Lighting it up, breathing it in?
Stick after stick, ashes to ashes, smoke up in the air, tar down your lungs.

Why do I do it?

How's life?

It's like every day that I make it alive is a blessing by itself.

Guess who's broke?

A few weeks back, I was contemplating to breaking the law just to make a few extra bucks. A friend of mine hit me back with reality, so nothing actually went down.

But the fact still remains valid, I is so so broke. Might sell off one of my kidneys. Problem is, I don't know how to. My laziness to find out is probably the reason why my left renal artery still has a function.

Amidst my broke-ness, I bought a box of cigarettes a couple of weeks back. Big mistake. A week later, I bought another one. Life has been stressful lately, and no soul in sight to pour my words. I bought another stick yesterday, Dun-hill, smoked it from my balcony.

I have to stop. This is not me. It's not that I don't smoke. I don't mind smoking, but I don't want this to become a habit. Once it becomes a habit, it defines me. Like if someone were to ask, hey who's he? And someone else goes like, ''Oh, you know, he's a smoker.'' -ish something like that. Nope nope nope.

Gotta lay off all these tobacco for a few weeks to get it out.

Yaohh :D

?Poop

When's the last time you've discussed poop?

Yeah, poop. The stuff that comes out of your butt. Comes in all shapes and sizes, different colours different textures. Shit, exactly.

Now one of the common questions in a medical history is the fecal report. The texture, consistency, frequency and colour of the stool can tell a lot about a person's health and any diseases that may be present. 

But ask yourself again, when's the last time you've actually discussed poop? Ever asked someone about their fecal passage with confidence and compassion. Now, that's no dialogue that just pops up in a usual social interaction, but it is undeniably common in the medical setting. 

Asking questions that are unusual are a challenge. Some people have been sent behind bars for the nature of the questions they have raised, or in some cases, the way those questions are phrased. Usually, in any conversation, prioritizing the privacy and the compassion of the person who is being questioned is crucial, so it's up to the questioner to be the best questioner they possibly can.

Questions. Questions everywhere. I have a question I'd like to ask myself - how did I end up agreeing to go to prom? 

Couldn't say no. There were a bunch of friends from the batch that apparently were so riled up about the fact that some us from the batch decided not to go for the annual ball. Personally, I have no interest in attending balls or proms or gala dinners that cost 10 days worth of food for a one night experience. Well, the previous prom I attended wasn't the best of experience for me, albeit I went with the only person I would have gone with, and I know that. And all this while, I've been holding that against me, ruing the whole thing. I guess, it's time to just put all that behind. Time for a fresh experience, one with no strings, just me and my fellow course-mates sending salutations to each other before we separate and follow different paths in our journey to become medical practitioners. ME214, you have my heart.

XOXO,

H.G.

Yaohh :D

New semester, new goals?

A rooster.

Go ahead, imagine one. Describe what you're thinking there.

It has feathers all over, A beak. Skinny legs that are famously compared to upper-body only body builders. Sharp claws. A feathery tail that's confusing as to whether there's actually a tail or it's just all feathers. As well as a five-bagged scrotum sack looking like thing on top of it's head. The crown? Is that what they call it? Scrotum-crown fit for a cock. Hmmm how appropriate.

2 month long holiday just came to an end. New semester is about to begin tomorrow. Holidays this time, though long, didn't hold much for me in terms of getting anything done. I have to admit, I'm not exactly in any sort of euphoric or comfortable state as I'm writing this. The second month in the year has already set a path to what seems to be a potentially rough 2016 (boner-touch, cause you know, touching actual wood has gotten pretty old). 

Grandmother suffered from a heart attack last week, but's she's been doing well and stable since. Rough moment for the family. The dynamics of how I found out that she was having a heart attack was pretty unusual. She came in as a patient in the evening to the local clinic where I was doing my posting at that very time. It's hard to explain what I felt at that time, and for some reason, I feel this guilt.

I've been living in my own shell for too long. Don't get me wrong, I do go outside, I do meet new people every now and then. Yet, I am so very lost. Forgetting things. Forgetting words. Missing a charm I once had for speeches. Have I had some sort of mini-stroke? 

There's this pain

Along with a whisper

Of a solemn prayer

Do no evil do your best

The speech sounds

The pain echoes

Seeping through the thoughts

Of a man that wants to be heard

A man that has lost his words.

She used to call me her eagle, and she my parrot. 

But, am I just rooster?

Yaohh D: