musings and whatnots

i never seem to remember or understood why, in my younger days, i enjoyed being sick(sick in a not-so-sickly-kind-of-way). i would spend the whole day laying in my bed, wrapped from head to toe with dozens of blankets, with nothing but my thoughts, a thermometer by my side, and the from-time-to-time check-ups by my mom and dad.

i used to like that. i used to.

maybe it's because my thoughts are rather unbecomingly, turning into a bad companion. maybe it's just really me.