What else would you say when you had to see two different doctors, three times in the past 2 weeks, trying to find that elusive magic pills to cast the flu bug away?
And that one of the doctor was coughing himself while trying to consult me.
Ugh.
What else would you sum it as when you witness with your naked eyes the 2nd broken leg event of the year alone, and this time round that it was one of your best friend that suffered it — and it was you that invited him for that game of soccer?
It’s not pretty, it looks like jelly, and trust me when I say that the torturous trauma of the ordeal will leave you sick as you hear that thunderous ‘crack, comparable to an explosion which leaves you dumbfounded, shocked and in rage.
Double Ugh.
What else can you describe your Ramadhan month as when you can’t spend time with your family for that simple act of ‘breaking your fast’ in the comfort of your home?
Work cuts the legs off of you and you wonder why your priorities have been mixed up, minced and left to decompose in a pile of ‘what-could-have-beens’.
Triple Ugh.
And then when you’re trying to sleep to Marianas Trench’s ‘Lover Dearest’ playing in your ears pre-dawn, you find your betraying tear ducts leak as that oft beating organ in your chest, skips a beat, breaks apart, and collapse like a suffocating black hole.
The morning air gets thin and the darkness envelopes you in loneliness as you gasp, and gasp, and gasp, and cripple your pillow tight, the only thing you were able to hold onto.
Ugh.
Why does it seem like everything unfolds never as planned, and you find that the more you try to undo, the stranger it gets.
You find you reminding you that it’s not worth trying to reverse the spinning of the earth, or trying to force an outcome.
Things happen, it happens, so let it happen.
All you can do is to keep the gears turning, and who knows what’ll happen next?
Ugh.
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