I feel nauseated after the meal. I do not suffer from appetite loss, but this time, my body always suffered from it. Oddly enough, why is it used to it? I can't remember the reason for my struggling to fight off this strange feeling. My intestines must have been interfered with by food debris.
Could it be the tap water they use to cook as an alternative oil?
There was a direct concern from Lianhuahua's eyes in front of me, and I faced her like a puppet poking out from its broken box, a paled-featured face as what they say about me, with a feeling that burned up inside. The strength in my hands that I do not even know why I am clenching my fists hard, and I don't see myself yet, not an inch from my gaze. It is wrong with me; I hear that I have a different voice, the blooming air that goes inside and out of my lungs. It is non-identical. Something is closer to a new me. Something uncomfortable and contrasting.
