Sleepless In Jakarta

Bad week. I started having the fever since Tuesday until Friday. I hate it. So much. I hate being sick. I hate not being able to move around. I hate putting people in trouble to take care of me. I hate missing out on things, like going to the gym or muaythai training centre. I hate it.

I hate myself. I hate myself getting fatter each day. I hate it. When I’m sick, I think about too much things. All these things just either whisper and hush or just scream in my head. Thousands and thousands of voices and languages I don’t understand just fill my head that it hurts.

It hurts a lot. So loud and painful I don’t know how I feel anymore, that I don’t think about things that can hurt me anymore. It’s bliss and hell at the same time. It’s suffocating me. It’s torturing me. It’s everything and nothing. It makes me cry and laugh and smile and angry.

I wish I had someone to hold me right now and tell me everything is going to be alright.