Your friendly cebuana superheroine.
"What superpowers do you have, HV girl? the ability to sprinkle chlamydia in the unsuspecting loins of your promiscuous foes decked out in body hugging spandex?"
No, non-existent citizen! HV is not a condensed form of HIV (with that logic, it would stand for HUMAN VIRUS)!
Hyper
Ventilating
GIRL!
That's me.
With my trusty side kick, Nielson the brown paper envelope-turned-bag!
And in your time of need, I will be there, right beside you...
...hyperventilating.
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Seriously folks, I've been having a rough couple of weeks. With numerous plates and requirements, I don't know when to start or stop anymore. No thanks to my horizontally growing wisdom teeth (the cause for my weakening immune system), too. I recently had a hyperventilating fit last week during one of my major classes which nearly gave my prof a heart attack (especially since I leaned over a ledge for "support"). Thankfully, a bunch of my friends dragged me into my prof's office and shoved a paper envelope into my hands.
BREATHE SLOWLY, they chorused.
And as I tried to slow down the pace of my gasps, it occurred to me that the pressure had reached a point of meltdown proportions.
Maybe you can relate in this aspect. Many people, especially those that seem to matter, expect great things from you. They say you've got great potential, but talent without discipline is nothing. They push you and you push yourself until your brain gives out and your lungs shut down. Yet still, things are not enough for their satisfaction.
Yes, I definitely need to take things slow. And breathe. Yes, it's just the pressure talking. It's the meds whispering. The teeth nudging.
The trick is to keep breathing, huh?
PS, I uploaded a few random deviations. I'll upload fresher works soon when I... get... the... time.
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