Sick

Mommy I feel HOT!

First of all, a fair warning: What you are about to read is sick!

Tatlong Linggo din syang nagpumilit to get a hold of me... pero dahil matibay tibay ang wankata ng Batchoy boi, hindi sya agad agad makapasok.

Pag medyo nararamdaman kong bibigay na, inuunahan ko... Pill pop ang drama. Add to that the effect of negating things... Hindi! Hindi ako magkakasakit! Sipon sipon lang to...

Nahamugan? Eh haller.. nocturnal kaya ako!

Naulanan? Eh haller ulit, kumekendeng kendeng pa ako sa ulan at super rain bath!

Then again... Nung Agusto a-uno... nag celebrate ako mag isa ng Wiccan Sabbat na Lughnasadh or Lammas... The first harvest or the first fires of August. Most interestingly, it is also the time for 'hand fastings' to be held. For a religion that takes its roots and traces way back to the old world, it is amazing how it has a greater understanding of the human condition. For one, these hand fastings are for a 'trial period' of one year and one day, and yes, if things do not work out, there is always 'hand partings' or absolute divorce. Whats more, 'hand fastings' do not discriminate against sexes. Both males or both females can fast hands. The only requirement is consent to be wed, age, and readiness.

Fires of Lughnasadh! Burn Baby Burn!

Click here to read more about this Sabbat.

We were initially set to celebrate this with my long time kindred Mykus, with a few 'postulants' or 'neophytes' to be initiated into the study of formal magick, and the final dedication to the goddess by an old acolyte. It was supposed to be a joyous festive event, with bonfires, sickles, bread, grains, grapes and corn husks, but then, things turned out badly since no confirmations were received by Mykus from the others.

As usual, I am not to be found lacking of a back up plan. I can very well celebrate on my own, as I have often done so in the past. After all, the Sabbat is also the perfect time to gather the 'tools of the trade' to consecrate them.

Sky clad... In Total Surrender to the Supreme Being

It turned out to be a most cold and wet, rainswept night, but the bonfire blazed well and good, and sky cladding was de rigeur for me. After all, my greatest and most important tool is my whole body. After finishing the feast with and by myself, that was the only time I felt the cold would hit me good and there is no stopping it. I felt feverish and shivering, albeit recharged and refreshed.

RESULTA! VIOLA! SICK!

I was not sick as in sick sick bed ridden sick I was running a temperature, congested nose and all, plus a little body malaise, but nothing alarming. I decided to take complete bed rest. For a whole day.

While sick, I had a few 'sick' thoughts too.

Since I virtually live like a shadow in this house, no one really knows whats wrong (or right ) with me, no one bothers to check on me. If I should die in the night (heaven forbid) I swear they'd only start noticing when my body starts decomposing and give off the rotting stench of corpses. Trust me, this is not an understatement or an emo-ladden fact. Its a given truth. The last time I was sick, they only noticed it on the third day when I was delirious and making moaning sounds that came unbidden and uncontrolled from my fever fried brains. To die and be discovered dead would be pure Victorian Romantic stuff... Let's at least be more post-modern, shall we? Then again, do I hear someone say... "Sorry Mister President?"

Drop DEAD Gorgeous... Found Dead in Bed!

As I have said, sick things came unbidden while I was down with the flu...

What sort you may ask?

Aside from the morbid dying thoughts, the next question was, who'd be first to notice my absence and start worrying?

Who'd make a check before the stench... God! Though I know that for sure, this person, whoever he/she may be is one of those I love dearly, I do not want to burden her/him by the singular distinction of being the first to discover me dead. So I hope the discovery must be accidental! Perhaps, by that same 'person' here in the house who 'robbed' me last. God! I'd love to scar him/her all his/her life with the thought of stealing from a dead me!

Now aside from that, in the feverish night, I also thought, who among my past significant others cared best for me while I was sick? I can not give a comprehensive answer since only a few has had that privilege. so that would be unfair...

You give me FEVAH!

More like... who gave the best.. 'get well F*ck? Hehehehe. Trust me on this one, due to an increased body temperature, things get more 'heated-up' and the sweat breaking does wonders most of the time. Sensations for the 'feverish' one gets heightened, and heat for the 'healer' gets to a higher level. I could clearly remember how volcanic hot a sick lover's mouth felt, and that's just the upper orifice mind you. On the other side of the spectrum, I know too, how wonderfully aware one is, when he is sick, of the cool, wet velvety feel of another's mouth to delirious heights. However, a very 'poor' and 'limited' performance from me would be a given. You'd have to sit .on it. Hehehehe

How sick? Right? Hehehehe...

Wanna take care of lil' ole sick me? Buhuhuhuhu


Photo Credits:

http://introspection7297.blogspot.com/
http://www.myspace.com/ibgerd
http://www.ballet-dance.com/200612/articles/Lines20061104.html
http://www.theinsider.com/news/805142_Report_Marilyn_Monroe_Sex_Tape_Sold_at_Auction
http://media.photobucket.com/image/fever%20madonna/zking2/66486_Madonna-Fever-157_122_419lo.jpg