Temporary withering.

The yellowed leaves fall

off the trees in deep autumn,

Shriveling crisply.

I am sick like a dog. For about two weeks, I'd been incessantly sneezing, thinking that I had major allergies. However, now I've found out: they were not allergies. As I rolled over in my bed this morning with a throbbing, parched throat, my assailants were revealed to be ferocious viral invaders. You suck, germs!
Avaunt, ye fiends!

And so it begins: the sneezing, the runny nose, the sore throat and the general moody depression that accompanies all sicknesses. I was supposed to get a lot done today. But while I did finish the book I was reading, I did not do any of my errands, did not feel like talking to anybody and sure as hell did not exercise. Thus, I linger, getting fatter for another day. I suppose I shall just get as much rest as I can. With a much anticipated visit from college friends tomorrow, I can't afford to show up looking like I rose from the grave.
Sounds similar to an air-horn in tone and volume erupt from yours truly at this point.

Now, regarding some not-so-temporary withering, I became one year older as of yesterday. I should say a birthday is a great cause for celebration: it's a reminder of the beauty of life and of the gratitude we probably should have for our lives.
Another paper wad falls into the nearby garbage bin.

However, what I got from my birthday was a bit different this year. I was fortunate in some years to be in the company of friends, who I consider closer to me than family. This time, I was isolated from friends, with only family nearby. I don't think I've ever posted in this blog about my exact relationship with family, but it isn't all that positive. One thing I will admit here, though: I hate going home for the summers. I hate being split up from my friends and I positively do not cherish spending a time with my immediate family. I've already spent 14 years (don't ask what happened to the rest - long story) growing up with a mother that identifies with that infuriatingly self-righteous woman known as the "Tiger Mom." And trust me, it has not been fun.
The result of a tiger mom, for those of you who don't have one and are considering becoming one, is this: I hate being at home, and I definitely do not harbor warm filial feelings. It isn't true that I don't care about her, but as far as son-mother relationships go, mine is pretty cold. I inwardly groan in college when the vacations approach.

Thus, with my fun, dysfunctional family, I celebrated my birthday and got to think about how different my birthday was from last year, when my ex-girlfriend M and I were still dating and spent time with each other. Did things turn out for the best? Only partially. Would I have done things differently if I knew what was going to happen? Maybe.
When I cheated on my first girlfriend, Y, with M, I didn't regret the event. I regretted the hurt I brought Y and wished I had broken up with her before I broke her heart, but I didn't regret the much better, much more fulfilling relationship I had with M. Now, however, do I regret anything I may have done in my relationship with M? Maybe I do. I can only hope things turn out well, now. I don't want to live a life with regrets.

That having been said, I now feel tired from the inner war being raged within my body, and need some sleep.
More shall come later.