I coughed so hard that I vomited. Well, at least in the back of my throat I did. I felt my ribs being pushed into unnatural positions and flinging back to their place. I hated these fits. They felt miserable. They made me wonder what it was like to die.

(just a thought)

He really inspired me, Khaled Hosseini. No doubt he affected my writing style as well. I think he reinforced my current one more than anything. I saw myself writing what he wrote, except he wrote it with far more thought and solemnity than I did.

I reinforce now what my goal in this site is. Mainly for my own benefit so that I would feel the sting of guilt for not following through. I want this place to be the safety deposit of my imagination. From now on. I want to put everything I’ve ever thought sounded good into this, everything in my journals, Xangas, LiveJournals, Bloggers, Multiply, MSNSpaces, the back of my AP US Notebook, wherever.

You’ll have to excuse me, I’m losing myself to fatigue. I’ll return when my mind’s had time to breathe.