My temperature is rising. I might develop a fever soon.
But knowing my body's resistance to disease and dirt, it is possible to fight it off using craziness.
I mean, KRRRRRAZIIIIINESSSSS!!!
No disease has ever killed me... yet. I am living testimony of all the bugs and viruses and bacteria that have tried and failed - miserably.
You can't kill me, motherfucker. Only the good die young, and I am THE Ancient Spirit of Evil.
My back is shivering. My throat is parched, kinda scratchy. My shoulders are weak and there is a slight throbbing pain.
I will beat this fever like I bitch-slapped the ancient pagan Arab gods Al-Latta and Al-Uzza.
Temperature control is vital. My mind is slipping. I will be a bit delirious for around 10 hours. Shouldn't be writing. Or I might let slip the secrets to the universe.