Stella sent me new songs which are melodious and beautiful, gently wrapped with meanings. I feel obliged to sing along, to let the melody ring in my mind and run through every blood vessel in my soul.
But some stupid thing in my throat made it sore, thus I could only manage an indistinct croak.
Note to it: Just because you're unbearably hurting me, it doesn't mean that you can obstruct my singing.
And anyway, I can still swallow with a pathetic dot like you in my throat.

Oh mannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
I just realised that I couldn't eat chocolates with you little wimppy ball in my throat.
ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Here's a joke which my mum shared with me:
Finding a love partner is just like finding a parking lot in a shopping mall that's always mulling with shoppers.
Because when you finally found a lot...
it's a handicapped.

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