(Sunday, October 24, 2004)
music of the moment: seether feat amylee - broken
against all my will to sleep till 12 today, i only managed to do 8. when i regained little consciousness, i felt my world is spinning 360 degrees. the feeling was soon shadowed by blooming dehydration and an ampliflying pain on my fingers. yes, i finally recalled i went for yet another session of basketball brawl yesterday. outcome of the game, not 1 but 2 twisted fingers. on my left hand. the hand i write with. same had i used to hold my spoon or chopstick with. 2 twisted fingers and i didn't feel a thing during the game. only a slight twitch. i'm so proud with myself. i think i rock.
why not basketball game? essentially, basketball is just a game for people who hungers for bloody body contact and regularly thrusting the opponents when you're given chance to and use the name of sport as trojan horse. victory is vital. mistakes are unforgivable. i'm an accident prone freak. there, the last piece of the puzzle. go figure.
why do i play basketball still when i know chances of me suffering from an injury rockets everyone else's by statistics? because pain makes me feel a little alive. i'm not your average self-mutilation type of guy and i don't enjoy being constantly hurt but i enjoy being in the game. the aftermath of the game i am willing to take. injury is just a part of the game. by the way, i twisted someone else's fingers as well. having a gained an injury reminds me that i'm not in the eat-work-screwed-by-boss-eat-sleep-work routine. isn't that worth the misery?
conclusion: basketball players are bastards
8:15 AM
that fucking traitor
liEw, 18 and since 2002, 270lbs, 5ft, brazilian chinese russian icelander hybrid, black eyes, short black hair, racist, antisocial, semi-alcoholic, ignorant, exhales profanity, black-poetry fanatic
