This blog is no longer being updated. Last post was “Farewell”.
Tuesday, October 5, 2004
Finally when I looked at my hands, I saw blood.
It was the blood of my victims. Victims, who were brutally murdered by me. Victims, who were crushed by my cruel will of crushing them. Victims, who had no right to live. Victims, who had no right to live because I didn’t want them to live. Victims, who didn’t deserve a single ounce of mercy. And victims, who were mosquitoes.
I don’t know what occupied me but I just couldn’t do anything except to kill those annoying creatures last night. I mean, come on. You are sleeping in your bed and dreaming about how you have saved the world from a team of horrible, out-of-this-world-aliens, and just when you are beaming at the flood of people, waving your hands, and receiving the applause you rightly deserve, a sharp pain in your cheek forces you to wake up and notice that even though you could combat aliens who invaded the earth in your dreams, you can’t just beat a group of little insects who invaded your bedroom in real life. (Note, however, that I have never had such a dream. I just wrote that to make my point clear). So you scratch your cheek, roll to your side and go to sleep again, hoping that you could resume watching that dream right from the place where it was broken, and find yourself awaken again due to another (or same) mosquito. So the thing you should do is, switch the light on, spot the mosquitoes and crush them between your palms. And try to focus on your objective, not at the thought that your actions are making you look like… you-know-who (No. Not Voldemort.)
As far as mosquito repelling mats and creams/lotions are concerned, they have never worked in my case. Besides, who need them when I have got my hands who scored 13 last night.
So what’s your highest score?