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Diarrhea, 17, and The Chronicles of Flowery Patterns

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[Disclaimer: this post is written in English, contains rare ingredients (photos of me), imperfect balance (I haven't learned English for awhile) and some substances potentially causing headache (me reflects my year-long doings). You have been warned.]

So, where did I go? Why don’t someone who loves momentum like me blog like crazy about her turning a year older by talking about the non-existent life lessons? Why the hell you did not see me fighting for my 100th post to meet my birth date? Why hello, I’m just done eating everything for my seventeenth birthday and got diarrhea as the karma. A huge, disgusting diarrhea.

I was admitted to the hospital at April 15, four days after my birthday, after a whole night of me puking out the insides of my stomach and not being able to get hold of any foods, meds, and water given to me. I caught a fantastic 38 degrees fever, dehydration, and my tummy grumbling for more toilet time. It was not cute.

Anyhow, I’m finally seventeen. I’M LEGAL BY AGE. I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANTED NOW. I HAVE MY ID. WOOHOOO. ALL THE ADULTERY GOODNESS (?). Meh. I’m seventeen years and eight days old right now, and I still drink milk when evening comes.

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My last year’s wish was rather idealist and it was something that would be in a writer’s trash bin because of the amount of cheese in it: I want God to let me learn more by going through experiences.

Oh boy, God wasn’t kidding when He grant this wish. I was put in various situations where I don’t even have the heart to remember. In one point I watched an enormous wave clashed to the rocks and took away the little world I had between them. I suddenly understand why some people are atheists, why children steal, and why some people lives in vivid nightmare. The reason why I can’t stop eating even after the diarrhea episodes remain unknown.

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My heart practically flutters when I see this.

The biggest mystery lies where the pink floral patterns meet bottles of pricey sleeping packs I’m currently having interest in. Why am I even picking shocking colors instead of my usual grey shades on my stuff… But that happens all the time because I was beaten badly by hormones rage lately so they got the thrones. After being all girly and pinky and extremely immersed feeling when watching romance dramas, I’m playing The Sims instead of studying.

Nevertheless, I did learned. I feel like sixteen years old are like the collide of your irrational child heart and your stubborn adult mind. Maybe that’s because I haven’t go through seventeen.

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