Fears.

Yay! I'm shortlisted! And I'm here to talk about my feelings WTF.

I really, really, really, really, really, really want to go. I want to go to Italy. Everytime I hear the song Le Festin I think of AFS. Even though that song is in French and I'd want to go to France. But I don't know French, so I'd settle for Italy because it's an awesome place too and I'm getting out of the topic here.

But who would pick someone who is on 13 and a half pills a day, is photosensitive and has to watch what she consumes? Ugh.

Why would Italy pick me if I'm so fragile I'll have to be on antibiotics or get hospitalized if I get a normal fever? Why would my host family pick me if I'm so sipek mahuan? What happens if I get a flare over there? Why would they go through all the trouble to do that when they can pick someone healthy, fine, has good academic grades and so on?

The point is, I don't care. I really want to go. Lupus is not going to stop me.

Oh yeah right, perfect timing, lupus. How many days to trials and you start to get serious now?

I don't care! I'm gonna apply anyway. And I won't stop until I get rejected or something. I won't lose hope. If they reject me they'd better have a good explanation or I'd sue for discrimination against SLE patients. Blueh.