The haze is still blooming.

Currently, I am feeling as sexy as a member of the walking dead. Nose has been running like Forrest Gump. At this rate, I could drown all suicidal emo kids with mucus.

Due to nose leakage and the efficiency of the management, I have valiantly endured the seven seas to obtain toilet paper from the male toilet. An image of honey yellow liquid of unknown subtance in a toilet bowl is annoyingly etched in my mind.

I do not know if I should credit my survival to my inability to breathe.

On the other hand, my Indonesian classmate from Chemistry, Arckinium Meraxide, profusely apologised to me on behalf of his fellow elements.

I said it’s okay, there’s no need to apologise for forests that you didn’t burn, Arckinide. I understand how it’s nearly impossible to stop imbeciles from playing with fire because they could stop being generous too if you do so. Moreover, they probably didn’t live in your country much so my assassins can’t find them anyway even if they wanted to.

I’ve just ran out of toilet tissue paper…

…Fuck.