It's like 11.52pm. And I'm awake. Talking to (of all people) Syasya. And fareed.

So, while the two of them fight. Or rather while Syasya gives fareed warnings and limits about her unborn child, here I am, with my stomach growling to death. And I just remembered that my parents left me porridge in the kitchen. But it's like more than ten steps away. Like Hasif, I am too lazy to walk to the kitchen to get food in the middle of the night. Or in his case, hot chocolate. Nyehh. Why can't pots fly?

I'm sleepy and I'm reading a book about earthworms. Damn. Even they complain about hair being in their dirt. And they are EARTHWORMS. See, humans are not so picky afterall. We are just, causcious of what we eat. Well, we are what we eat. And if there's hair in our food, we won't want to become hairs now, do we?

(But then again, do we?)