I am the most emotional person to ever grace this earth, i cry at the parts of films which aren't set up to be sad, i cried when i finished twilight - just because it was over (and now i feel like crying after that pitiful confession).
But its true, as far as the metaphorical representation of the heart being the core of all sorrow, love, hate, lust.. whatever, my heart is a complete cop out.
As of last Wednesday, however, i discovered that my heart was actually (in physical reality) being attacked by something other than my feeble and usually melo-dramatic sphere of emotion.
I was diagnosed, after waves of pretty severe chest pains (accompanied by screams, squeals, wails and any other ghastly noises i could muster from my aching lungs) with Pericarditis which is when the Pericardium (or the protective 'sack') around your heart gets infected.
Why this happened? As a secondary factor after getting tonsillitis, why can't i do anything without there being a fuck load of drama involved.
SO i've been pumped with anti-biotics and painkillers since then until today, in which i have finally been released into the outside world, drowsy and disorientated.
Scary times, hold on to your hearts home sluts.
Lots of love from my bloodbox, still ticking!
G xxx
P.s. many kisses to everybody who came and kept me company at my time of need, you helped me retain what was left of my panicked mind.
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