wasted mind, wasted thoughts

I feel ______.
I can't even feel in that blank.
I am sick. I feel bottom low. Maybe it's due to the sickness.
I don't feel like going out.
But I am meeting sk for Troy later. I can't miss that show.
I hope I don't spoil his mood later.
I can imagine myself with the look of nonchalance and irritability.
I can't seem to bring myself to care for anything now.
Maybe just today.
I hope it lasts just for today.
It must be my flu. Damn the flu.

I want to get away from camp.
I want to be free from responsibilities that aren't even mine to start with.
Irresponsibility?
I beg to differ.
What is my responsibility? What is yours?
Is this really what I should care for?
DO I HAVE A CHOICE IN THE FIRST PLACE?
I do.
I can choose to be on the run, only to be caught by my colleagues and put behind bars, or serve with all the unwillingness within me.
I detest what I do, but still, I do it.

I feel sick.
My eyes are heavy, my temples are knocking, my forehead is shrinking.
I can't breath with my blocked nose, they leak; though blocked, they tickle all the time.
My throat is irritated, my deep hoarse voice give away my physical condition, my coughs creates enough phlegm to drown me, and my ears are blocked.
Still, I survived another treacherous day at work.
Humbug.