Post-Medication Ramblings

It's been almost a week.

I'm still feeling like crap - 
I've got something in my throat that spends its time alternating between stabbing and tickling the walls of my windpipe, my nose has recently discovered an enthusiasm for imitating the Niagara Falls and
the sledgehammers in my head are partying with chainsaws, while the snare drums deejay.
They've got a sick beat (hur hur).


Supposed to be working on magazine articles due next Wednesday (joy oh joy) but I'm listening to Michael Jackson and trying to sort out the jumble in my mind.

Thunder.


It's oddly comforting to be in school on a Saturday when it's going to rain.
It's a place that I've grown to both love and hate, but there's a certain peace here today in my favourite spot in the library.

The insistent growl of thunder - 
the cloying scent of perfume that invokes a thousand memories, both bitter and sweet - 
a sudden streak of illumination - 
stillness in the air here - 
forgetting for a moment all the stress and deadlines - 

It's peace, if only for a moment.
It's peace tinged with the faint scarlet of stress and worry.
And there's a certain sort of magic in this,
as if the world itself is holding its breath - something could happen.
In the brief moment before everything comes crashing - rushing - down.

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