These days, a lot of things are really dramatically getting, sort of forcibly crawling into my system—slowly eating me up and wearing me down.

As I am writing this, Athan is throwing invectives at me, literally cursing me for screwing his blog. Two days ago, he was so high spirited as he texted me about the completion of his blog. Few minutes ago, I was singing praises for the wonderful layout. I envied the whole look. Few seconds next, something went amiss.

Problem came when he could not make a single link. He tortured me with questioned about links and comments. Question I know were so simple but I simply could not fucking answer.

I suggested for him to shift to beta. He did. Well, I did the changing for him. And the screwing happened.

As of this writing I am not saying a word to him. He’s beside me, trying to exhume and resuscitate the busted layout.

Invectives still are flying all over the room. And I am on mum-mode.

Saturday afternoon, before I went to play badminton with some new friends, I talked to Lovella, my cousin, over the phone. It was a lengthy conversation that drove me into the pit of unspeakable depression.

Everything about the conversation still makes me feel sick. I hate my mother. I hope she burns in hell.