Ouch..

My stomach seems to have detached herself from the surrounding tissues. If I so much as make a bigger movement than usual, like adding a skip to my steps, which I just did, I can feel her waking to her unhappiness, reverberating through my middle body, complaining to the surrounding nerves, which, in turn, transmit deadly signals, via the central nervous system to which they are so intricately linked, to the part of the brain that says: pain.

Ok, not deadly. I'm being melodramatic with all the description in one single freaking long sentence. Been reading "Middlesex" by Jeffrey Eugenides. Which reminds me of "Midnight's Children" somehow..

Last week I was reading "the curious incident of the dog in the night-time". The boy has autism but he knows every country in the world and, get this, EVERY PRIME NUMBER UP TO 7057!!

Envious. I like prime numbers. But my biggest prime number is 97. 101. Erm, I know 103 is a prime number too. 107, 109, 113! And 127, 131, 137! Ok, stop! Just realise I know bigger prime numbers :p But still, not up to 7057! I find that I identify with the 15 year old boy, and even imagine/fear that maybe I do have mild autism. We, the boy and I, have eerily quite a number of things in common, though not all the time. Hear that people with autism often live in a world of their own, with their own rules; I live in a dream world. Hence all the similarities, maybe?

Anyway, been reading lately. Now, after "Middlesex", I'll finally attempt to write. It may turn out to be crap but I'll write. Afterall, I'm sure there're people like me who read both serious stuff and crap :)

What? You read only serious stuff? Why the hell are you here then? :p