Good God! Can you still get us home...

Lips cracking and peeling. Hands shaking. Body temperature's rising. Mind-losing. (Sanity too) Head's ripping. Throat's dying.
I'm dying physically, mentally, and spiritually. Literally. I'm sick again. I'm damn cold now, but I know I'm running a certain temperature. I'm trying my best to finish my work. I hope I won't black or konk out. I think it's a pretty serious matter to faint and wake up in a ward. I'm awake for close to 30 hours. God bless me. I just don't have the energy to do this anymore.

alright! finally an amateur barista at www.papapalheta.com. and now, i'll have to put more effort in latte art. and the correct amount of milk/froth needed for each coffee beverage type.

aside that, i have fucking p3. i need ideas and concepts. also in less than a year... it's graduation... so that means it's the last few days of havoc and entertainment in the high flying years of our youth. soon it'll be intern, final year project, and then national slavery. which literally translates to: the beginning of adulthood. 

 my eye hurts, and it's swollen yet again wtf! i need it to subside if not i can't work tomorrow.

it was all wishful thinking i guess.. i'm never good enough.

Mr. Big : Just Take My Heart on repeat.