Feathers in the air

And yes, the pear still exist!

I sat down in front of my book-paper-accessory cluttered desk ( it has everything except food and clothing )checking mail on my laptop.
A few hours earlier i watched this all time favourite nuclear explosion incident during my HUMAN FACTOR WORKSHOP - The Chernobyl Nuclear Reactor Explosion. My table somewhat resemble that. Piles of envelopes stood adjacent to shelves of university textbooks ( yup i need a thorough clean up ). Complementing those items were inches of dust. I bet they harbor the most formidable germ empires of all time.

My attention suddenly got drawn to my stomach. I shook my sore head in disbelief. Literally, my tummy felt like its expecting a baby 3months into pregnancy. I have no idea how it got so horizontally challenged, but i decided that something had to be done.

I am one person who detests gym. That kind of regime reminds me of a laboratory rat being made to run non stop in a ferris wheel-like mechanism. If i tried hard not to think that way, the next synonymous vision in my head would be this lonely goldfish swimming within the concaves of its pathetic midget gold fish bowl.

I could never comprehend why some people can subject themselves to this sort of public attention. Yup, I am referring to those folks running in their favourite nike/ adidas apparent, flexing every inch of muscle, running in deep concentration, trying hard not to lose their composure over fatigue.

For me, it is my good old nalgene bottle, my humble secondary sports attire ( they are limited edition btw ) and a trustworthy chapteh to see me through. After my sign language course which ended at 9pm, i decided to spend some time to deal with my tummy....I sweated a great deal, repetitively sending the chapteh cutting through the staleness of the multi purpose hall on a blue blue Monday night.

Running in my head was nothing but keeping the featherly object to my limbs. Maintaining the trajectory not beyond my eye level, I tossed it from left to right, juggled it from right to left, hooked it up using my ankles every now and then, in an attempt to bring it back into this rhythmic muscle memory ritual until the chapteh decided to take control over itself.

Sessions like this made me detach myself from the working world which i happily retired after 5pm every weekday. This sense of therapeutic-ness sank all the uptightness and lethargy that i accumulated over time since i last exercised.

Today, i effortlessly clocked 44 hits on the featherly toy before i lost my concentration to this skimpily cladded lady who strolled past me. What the hell right?

Time to head for a good sleep. Good night everybody~!