Kittens and despair.

When I feel bad I start crying. The best way to stop it is to convince me, that there is no problem anymore or to show me some kitten gifs. After the first kitten gif I'll be all "Meeeh, that's stupid! It's not working." Even so, don't stop. The second one will do better.

What  is  it?  Whatever.  That's  stupid.

Wait  a  minute,  I still have a problem!

Whoa!  How  he  did  that?

Oh  God!  Oh  God!  Oh  God!

However, if you are not going to help me and you don't even have any kitten gifs, it means, that everything is screwed up. I'll continue crying. Then, I'll remember something else and will be crying over that thing too. Then, I'll very likely remember, that people are still not the conquerors of Space and a cure for death is still not invented, so there is no point in stopping crying at all.

Actually, it wasn't always like this. When I was a kid I never cried in public (ok, there were a few exceptions), even when I was in the first grade and my friendly mates bumped me and I smashed my head against the pavement and I was all bleeding. Or when in the second grade a little boy threw a snowball at me and split my lip and I was all bleeding again. Or when I crashed into someone and broke my nose when playing "catch-up" (do you see the irony here?) at school. I always tried to pretend as if nothing had happend.

However, when it comes to doctors I cry my lungs out and usually crawl on my knees trying to assure Mum that nothing very bad had happend and I'm not going to die. But for some reason it never works out.

A giant splinter is sticking out from under the nail? My grazed knee is going to decay? Advanced sinusitis is ready to blow up my brain? Never mind. Watch yourself! >:G

When Boyfriend and I went to Okinawa, the only way to get to the post office and buy some fruits was to bike to the main street. The thing was, that I've never rode a bike without training wheels before, but I wanted the fruits so badly, so I decided, that nothing could stand in my way.

Except. For. Bikes.

I wasn't even strong enough to pedal uphill. I knew, I looked pathetic, but yet I was excited. Omg! I'm riding I'm riding down the hill! There are fruits in my basket and even Boyfriend was left behind! Isn't he going to overtake me, by the way? (Never listen to the feeling of superiority when rushing down the hill, especially when you're not smart enough to guess, that taking your hands off the handlebar is a bad idea.)

*"hurry up" that is :/ someone was reading Harry Potter too much...

I was all bleeding again. My best shorts were ripped, my butt was grazed, so I could't sleep without crying for the first few days and I couln't even cover myself with a blanket, because the forepart of my right leg was all grazed too. But even then I insisted, that I don't need any doctors. This time I succeeded and you know what? I was crying in pain and despair all the next week.