Day 271/366

There was something so profound in Pink Floyd's 'Comfortably Numb' and their way of portraying the little pin prick.

But when the music stops and you get a blood test done or get an injection, there is that unexpected pain which you can never be sure when it will strike. I don't know about others but at least I'm not a big fan of watching the needle go in and the content emptied out or my blood being filled in.

I've experienced that same sense of torture when I've had to get my ears pierced 4 times to make the hole stay and the 5 times of my nose piercing. I'm planning on becoming Whorini again this Sunday with the 6th attempt of the nose piercing.

Then there was also my weird fascination as a kid for putting needles and safety pins into my skin without letting it bleed and showing off to my friends. Maybe I'd read too much Iron Man or perhaps, the stitching classes were just not my cup of tea. 100% accuracy was never ensured, though. So the occasional bleeding fingers would freak my mother out, understandably. Oh, did you know I went and put my finger under a sewing machine once and got my nail stitched? It was painful, if I remember correctly. (I fainted soon after)

The only kind of needles I think I like are pins and needles. It is a sharp feeling, not an object creating a temporary or permanent hole in your skin. But then again, I also like pencils with sharp nibs and making it hang on my palm after stabbing myself. *sigh*

Day 75/366

Swings. They have always been one of my happiest memories of growing up. And the special thing about them is that knowing that they still exist keeps me rooted to my childhood that I still can't let go of it. Nor do I want to, to be honest. I'm turning 21 in 2 weeks. I think I'm ready to start making a career for myself and I will be mature and professional when the need arises. But that kid in me will still always grin from ear to ear when I see a swing. 

It's as close as you could get to flying after you're sensible enough to look up at the sky, see birds flying around and knowing that you were not granted with the power of flight for some odd reason. The Creator works in such mysterious ways, I tell you! That fascination is given a life to while swinging. I normally sing to myself when I'm on a swing and in my head, I'm the best singer there is around. I'm smiling even as I write this post because even if my huge ass didn't fit on a swing, I'll still have the time of my life on those tiny swings that is not meant for kids/people my age. 

I feel like giving advice to whoever has made it till the end of the post. Go find a swing nearby. Feel the motion and the rush and the air in your face. Everything will just seem all right.