Hotbothered N Coldhearted

Man, the weather and the humidity.

Now, nothing is really wrong with some sunshine, heat and all. Sure, I can visualize myself happily running or lounging at a beach, in beachwear, a little bit of suntan lotion/sunblock, possibly a book in hand or some music, snacks in a basket like in a picnic, with a beachball in hand, or playing some beach sports, probably with some random stray dogs, telling it to fetch, sweat dripping, bouncing breasts if I’m a lady; sweaty nice toned abs if I’m a lad; a bit of both or none if I’m a transvitite. Happy, I am, and probably in need of a cooling wet shower thereafter. And maybe rubbing myself in the steaming sands. Ah, glorious days.

But no, I am not at the beach; I am in front of the laptop, awaiting for the time to arrive to leave/head out, in my bedroom. And no, I am not heading out to the beach later on, so that makes this weather very killer, and I am prone to sweating like a hot pancake (whatever that feels like, is like). My shirt will be drenched in clear patches of sweat, and I will be a visualing disturbing sight.

And not to mention last night. I was in full preparation to begin a series of exercises, when the humidity absolutely killed, and I was sweating in no time, shirtless and without doing much any form of exercise. And now, even while typing, and maybe because I just finished ironing my shirt to wear, I feel the tingling feeling of sweat accumulating, dripping, hanging around me and my body.

Is it global warming already?


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