Broken hearts in January.

In the picture: Funny times.

You have no idea how it feels. Running in the rain is bad.

Ice cream is like poison to the body. Laughter is like a drug to me. The more I laugh, the worse the consequences.

I have to avoid Indian food, seafood, milk, butter, butter cookies, nuts, chocolates, sweets, spicy food, and anything to do with dairy.

I can't touch my dogs so often because they'd be the death of me. 

My aspire to be a biologist. But I cannot work with animals too often because their fur would trigger erratic reactions in my body.

I can't dance and sing too much. It would destroy my lungs.

It hurts to see others being normal and having so much fun.

I wish I were less active. But no, I was born with a hyperactive streak.

I wish I were normal. I just want to play in the rain and not get any after effects. Like any other normal individual.

I just want to be able to own a cat. An owl. And to touch my spider without having its hair cause HUGE allergic reactions to my body.

I want to play and run and run, free like the wind. I want to laugh and laugh till it becomes a melody, unchained.

I want to sing and sing and not feel constricted.

I want to swim the oceans.

I just want to be able to breathe and know that it won't be my last breath, that my lungs would not cave in.

I want to be normal.

Free of asthma.

Love the broken hearted Shia.