Had two bad falls one after another oh gosh. And the circumstances of those falls are weird. Like it’s a straight wide road with no incoming human hazards and I just fell. Twice. So now there’s this big wound on my left palm and festering lumps and pulling- tearing on my pain receptors (Omg the doc’s cream is making it worse I tell you), and a huge bruise on my left thigh as well as other places, and double abrasions on my left knee, and scratches everywhere, and moral of the story is: never cycle when you only just sprained your ankle not two days ago.
Besides this takeaway there are other realisations I had too, during the two days since my fallS on Saturday afternoon when my parents took care of me (as those rich guys with that heartbeat-scope (?) were off having fun and chillaxing over the weekend). So anyway the first is that I’m a bigfat wimp, and the second is that my parents do not deserve having this bigfat wimp.
Okay so let me remind myself why I’m a bigfat wimp: I can’t even bear the pain proudly or at least tolerate it. Stupid sensitive pain receptors, stupid frail tearducts, stupid weak moron. Just because it stings and burns doesn’t mean you have to sting and burn your eyes with unholy saltwater. Stupid fool as in I was not able to take care of my own stupid self and whining and grunting and grumbling about the pain. Just suck it up you damned fool. Some lame little prickly pain can’t incapacitate you; you haven’t even seen true horrors and experience real agony. Look at this Pear of Anguish, look at it I tell you! Instead of facing the wall go stare at this.
This bigfat wimp also has to undeservingly have someone serving this bigfat wimp. First people have to look after your totally puny wounds, pick up your rubbish, pull your heavy self from the ground, get you a cab, show you concern, deal with the bicycle you so horribly treated, upset the taxi driver with your stupid presence, have your shoe taken off by your father, have your father rush down to the pharmacy since the docs not open, have your father have your brother make drinks for you, have your father get a stool in the bathroom and wrap your puny wounded handed with a plastic bag, (and then in deserved agony bathe myself), then have my father clean my wounds (and this bigfat wimp can’t even stay still), have my father serve me dinner, have my parents looking after me (my mum was out then) and all. So yeah..