Up-down weekend

As soon as Easter holidays ended and I came back to school, a terrible flu crashed on me, forcing me to spend two days in bed, with a temperature of 39°C. Simple case or necessity? Anyway, the high temperature didn't allow me to leave. My plans for the weekend totally vanished and I found myself shouting abuse at school, chief world systems, holidays, some suspicious elements and the world.
First of all, I convinced myself, being in a crisis of superstition, that someone damned me to prevent me from having a glad mood during the period which followed Easter. The most suspects were: A., some of my classmates, destiny. This last was soon rejected. Dying pope, new earthquake, war and tsunami victims...that was enough for "him", to worry about my "miserable" condition. Beyond, suddenly, I remembered that I don't believe in "him" and that it's not possible to call "him" just when my mind is hysteric or fairly neurotic. The only classmates of mine which knew about my post-Easter-projects were some individuals that had no reasons to wish me that little tragedy. Rejected even the second theory, there was A. She was definitely un-rejectable. BUT, when I analyzed possibilities that she could have damned me, I thought she doesn't have enough intelligence to be that telepathically powerful. Then I became sane, my mind was clear again, and I decided that the only realistic alternatives could be:

-Psychosomatic attack (I was back in school)

-Spring

Actually, during that last class, on that Wednesday, my throat started to burn, when I came back home, I said: "I feel a trouble in my throat". That evening, it was obstructed by tonsils and I wasn't able to swallow, nor complain, nor breathe through my mouth. That night I slept with semi-opened lips, and I dreamt of myself vomiting, one by one, all my inner organs. Sometimes I woke up, I drank and I went on saying something similar to "Mmmmhmmm,sss, mhh". On the following day, with a 39.8 temperature, I implored my mother not go to work and, rather, to take me to the bathroom. Once I learned all the tv program, from Gilmore Girls to the News, I started worrying about Maths.

And I was right doing that, since, my Maths teacher, decided to procrastinate his unluck lessons. That means: my gaps are becoming as big as oceans. In front of me there was the vision of that man, trying to explain, to 20 teen agers' tired brains, absolutely uncompleted notions. While he, rhythmically, had wild mood swings and fits of schizophrenia. Because his "odi&amo" for us, doesn't allow him to be objective about every human behaviour of us. So he alternates between a big sweetness and diabolic screams, to shout out loud our encyclopaedic ignorance. (It includes every kind of knowledge). After that mirage had gone away, I wisely chose to spend leftover time taking care of myself, wishing I had spent the weekend in the best way possible and filling myself with antibiotic. Antibiotic caused red itching stains all over, so right now I'm trying not to scratch myself. But I can listen to the Adicts, at least.