I'm doing fine.

Not really. It’s a little more complicated. But you don't need to be sorry for that. Don't ask me question, continue your stuff, throw your paint on a canvas and call it "art".

Chocolates used to be my pain killer for everything, even when I was not in pain, it calmed me down. We go way back, like when I watched the part where Izzie Stevens had metastatic melanoma, or when Merlin couldn't tell Arthur how helpful he has been, and everytime Doctor Who regenerated. I always get too emotionally involved and chocolate always saved me, like a Brazilian hero, sort of.

But thing has changed, I don't buy chocolate anymore. The last time I was in pain, I pushed myself so hard and got a tattoo.
Now, I've made an appointment for a surgery in Pantai Hospital.
Something about the needle and blood, something about them.

Is it the amount of root canal treatments or extraction that I've done? Or is it the anesthetic effect of that magical needle that always ease my patients and makes me grow fonder of them?

Last week a medical doctor was teaching us how to withdraw blood from vein and he needed a volunteer, I jumped on the chair immediately. I watched closely, not willing to miss any second of it, it's the moment when the needle poked into my skin and then my muscle contracted a little, and finally the sight of my own blood, it was a pleasure. I smiled a little.

Don't worry I'm doing fine, because I offered my other arm when my friend wanted to practise.
(Let me guess, you're thinking I've gone cuckoo and probably in a few years I'll turn into a drug addict, aren't you?)

You know, you don't have to go anywhere you don't feel safe. It doesn't mean you're not a strong person, it doesn't say you're a coward. You are just a person, trying to feel safe.

No good at saying sorry

"You will get over this, you have a bigger heart than you ever give yourself credit for." I replied my bff's text, while still in the line waiting for my turn to order meal.

There are certain types of people in my class, one of them is the "very-(EWWWWWW)-nice person". Parents love them, because this type of people glue fake diamond to their words, everything about them is presentable. They are the main dish in reunion dinner, everybody gets a piece of them before they go home.
These people, their chief characteristic is..nice.

How boring is that.

I thought we outgrew that shit when high school ended. In college, the social hierarchy fades, the old definition of friendship no longer exists, you only become friends with people who are awesome. I don't call everyone in my class "friend", some people simply just stay "classmate" forever (pal,don't take it too personally).

We aren't the happy bubbly kind of person, my bff and I. We are mean, and we love surgery. We are the skinny plate of bloody red chilli on the dining table that only certain people (awesome people) in the restaurant would touch.

But then again, individuality is my thing, what do I know about the other side of the world.