Skip to main content

Walkabout (me fuck you long time)

That girl he was searching for was finally in front of him. It dawned upon him that chance finally got him a welcome opportunity to make something happen out of nothing at all. His lips twist and tie a knot, speechless, as the professor gives each one a tiny moment of introduction. He was at the back, pale, and sitting at a comfortable position away from the many people, beside his newfound companionship, and making slight remarks at others' expense. His opportunity to seize the moment overpowers him, demands things he can scarcely accomplish, only that he thought he couldn't, but in actuality had been doing so every moment or so, involuntarily as it may. His turn to introduce himself presents and he cherishes that moment, with eyes seemingly propelled unto his stage. The limelight was his for that short moment. His wits gathers enough momentum, and for a millisecond conjures up something out of the blurt-out portions of his brain. He sees the woman and he turns his sights away. There was no doubt awkward tension. The pressure manifests itself steadily, but his wits were never compromised. Its vile nature conglobates and forms unified strength, something positive for a change, a chance to make something out of nothing. His effort will not come to waste.

And he speaks. With his nondescript voice he introduces himself and injects humour. He manages to make some giggle, as if he cares. Then for another second turns his sight to the woman that captures his thoughts, as her smile reaches at ears' length. That was all he ever wanted.

The night was young but his sweat and tears imminent from the glow of happiness. It forms a nasty streak of panic. Imagine a sauna suit meant for a summer night's crisp shadows. The friendship was blooming for something special, and he knew he couldn't have done it without taking action.

Six years later and his memories begin to fade. The shadows of that night's shadows were no more than deceptive. His life is no longer his. In fact, it was never his to begin with. The girl now lingers in his thought like a distant movie from an absquatulating grave of memories. She now finds solace in the farthest corners of the smallest continent with a man he barely even knew. Nothing became of that smile of hers, although their friendship were already made concrete in their sentimental hearts. She carves a legacy for herself, goes on as if nothing ever happened, and he is left to wonder whether a chance like his ever come twice. His life is in complete disarray. Her guidance would be tremendously life-changing, if only for news of her where and whatabouts and her joyous hellos.

He recalls of a certain scrapbook that was shown to him by this girl, about a time where he could no longer understand what it is he began to feel, as he was clearly taken aback by the woman's emergent kindness.

Alas, memories are self-delusionary. Her friendship was merely masking her own bipolar self-esteem. His presence made it all the more better. He goes along for the ride, ready and willing to die at her heart's private real estate.

Popular posts from this blog

Unprayer

Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.

Me: Things that have happened to other people are happening in mine, the worst truly has come and not a moment too soon

My important wishes always happen to fall on deaf ears, and now something really, really bad (that has already happened before) is happening to me again. Beneath all the charade of misleading coulrotic bliss is a sad sap of a man merely wanting a bit of trust from everyone around him. Yesterday's news was Mioseon all over again, and it has drained me of all strength. The worst really has come, and heaven knows I'm miserable now.
So it goes without saying that the biggest tragedy I have ever undergone in my life is fighting for the life of my child whose face I will never see. The most perplexing event was having to beg over and over unknowingly oblivious to the fact that my words carry no weight at all. Mioseon had trapped me into a corner and made me complicit to a sin I tried very hard to disavow. Regardless, she had found a way, and judging from that experience, Miriam herself will submit me to the same torture all over again, guilty by association.
For some reason this wa…

Me: At ease, the worst of the worst has yet to come

The wind was cold today, a Sunday, a proper start to September. We are within these months again. The road to the end of a very short year. A year for me where very little was accomplished. At the very least, compared to the previous one, this was a surprise blessing. Not without its challenges. Not without its pains.
Miriam went to work an hour ago. We left each other at Starbucks after a mild break. I was trying to help her with the buses. She never seems to catch on with the intricacies of the public transportation. I let her know that the easiest (not necessarily the fastest) way to work is to take the 260 bus from across the street in our new place in East Acton and stop at the underground station in Shepherds Bush. From there, she can then take bus 94 going to Piccadilly Circus where she can easily walk to her workplace in Soho in about five minutes or so.
She begged me to join her. I was still groggy and asleep at two in the afternoon. That seems to be our common waking up pat…