Now I see fire
Inside the mountain
I see fire
Burning the trees
And I see fire
I see fire
Blood in the breeze
-Ed Sheeran, I See Fire
Blazes, is it hot in here, or is it just you?
Pretty sure it’s just hot in here.
The heat has come rolling into the Klang Valley, now that the rain is gone. The air is dry and thick, and I can practically feel my blood heating up just beneath the skin. It’s kind of like the haze earlier this year, except without, y’know, the haze itself. Otherwise, the rest of the devil’s machinations are here: the suffocating heat, parched lips, and goddamned mosquitoes.
Last night, just so that I can sleep, I had to douse my body in cold water to take away the heat. At 4A.M., I woke up to do the same; and when I properly woke up for the day at 9.30A.M., I had to do it again so that I can face the day.
There’s something about the heat that make me feel lethargic. I’m not sure how it is for other people, but the hotter it gets, the more I feel like sleeping – because it’s too damn hot to do anything else! And the trouble is, the hotter it gets, the more difficult it is to sleep, on account of my sweat-soaked t-shirt and oily skin.
Eventually, what happens is like getting doped: the heat gets to my head, and I swim out of consciousness. It’s not exactly sleep, but it’s pretty close.
(the heat really is getting to my head, I think. The more I write, the more I’m becoming aware that the quality of language in this post is equivalent to a pile of steaming shit. And I cannot, for the life of me, think of a better way to make these sentences work)
No amount of fluids ingested seems to be alleviating the situation. Drinking water, it seems, is only serving to make me sweat more. And despite the breathability of the sofa cushions, in the ridiculous heat, they are managing to capture my body heat and transferring it back to me like some form of thermodynamic karma.
I have half a mind to bunk over in my brother’s room tonight (he has the room with the operational air-conditioning). But I also hear that cockroaches crawl about his floor in the darkness of the night, and so I am forced to choose between the heat or cockroaches.
I hear that last year, during one of the hottest summers Australia has ever experienced, people took to sleeping beside buckets of crushed ice, or even in the ice itself. If this heat keeps up, I won’t be surprised to find myself turning to the same techniques.
(I also hear that the Australian summers are consistently hotter than the Malaysian droughts. But they don’t have the strangling humidity to worry about; so there)
All in all, I just hope that the heat will just get bored and move on someplace else. Because I realize there’s no way to fight it. No real way to deal with it.
So until then, I’m just going to roll over and play dead.