You wake up with a sudden jerk, like some invisible force pushing you out of your unconscious state, catapulting yourself with a spring-like jolt. You feel a throbbing in your neck caused by a lack of sleep. You divert your attention to your watch, panicked for a while, and realized you’re late for work as usual. You’re just about ready to bang your head on solid concrete wall but decided not to knowing it would hurt. This certainly feels like waking up from a bad dream. Although this isn’t a dream! It’s your life! It’s a self-inflicted nightmare. But it’s yours. As reality sets in, the night before would never be the same again. Because today is the beginning of a brand new day.
You position yourself in a trajectory angle. Oh, how you wish that death had woken you up! A trace of saliva drooled over your left cheek from last night. You wipe it off clean with your left shoulder. You squint your eyes. Right eye first then left.
Everything. Is. A. Fucking. Blur.
Around you lies two months’ accumulation of dirty, no dirty is an understatement, filthy clothes. It’s dungy, grimy, murky, squalid, it’s nasty. It’s a contamination waiting to happen. Some of them in an act of desperation managed to crawl their way into the washing machine on their own. As you enter the bathroom, a reflection other than yourself horrified the bejangga out of you. You give hell a pretty decent scream- Potaaaaaaaah! You throw in the words- can’t be and not me together. But it is you, and you have no choice but to take a shower wiping off six millimeters of dried dust coating your skin Mama Sita’s food technicians would’ve been happy to do research on.
You’re running late as usual and you still haven’t decided what to wear. Somehow, your decision-making mechanisms are not working. You call this- Option Paralysis. You gawk at your messed-up closet. It’s all there and it resembles something ancient as it took the form of an Egyptian pyramid. Pick one piece of clothing goddamnit! Finally, your taste for clothing was satisfied as you grabbed the nearest pants and shirt lying on the floor. It’s damp. You don’t care. You put it on and took off as fast as you can. Seconds later, you realize…yesterday was a really rainy day…
The uneasiness persists at work. Your boss greets you with something like this-
“Okay do this and this and also this and that and this and while you’re at it do this too. Get it?” You scratch your head. She, politely screams- “Mr dela Cruz, please don’t do that!?!”
“Aaaaaaargggghhh!!!!”
Suddenly, the fountain pen you’re holding is starting to feel like a jungle bolo. Someone is going to have to die today, slowly…
You look at the people around you. They’re called – co-workers. But you know too well. You don’t want to “co-work” with these people. It’s practically impossible to co-work with them! They’re all unfit for the co-working environment. What’s more, they’re all smiling! You hate people who smile twenty-four hours a day! It’s as if you’re the only human being around and they’re all a totally different race or breed altogether. Some of these overfriendly morons call out to you and you respond with utter politeness- “ Fuck. Off.” You acknowledge HI’s and hello’s with Shut up! And another shut up! This time louder and more demeaning. Sooner or later nobody would bother greeting much less talking to you. The thought puts a smile on your face. You ignore everyone and everything. Heck, you ignore the world. You’d rather be by yourself just for this year with Jane Sibbery’s’ “It Won’t Rain All The Time”, (probably the saddest song on earth) playing loops inside your head.
Somehow, you managed to survive another day. The night is so, so young and short. This is the part where you find your usual quiet sweet spot, smoke your Winston Lights, look up to the sky, and pose that all too common obvious question-
“ What the hell happened to me?”
Now, you don’t know this, but the moon surreptitiously answers all time-
“ You one lazy, underachieving sonnofabitch! I could’ve made you anything you wanted to be but you always took the easy way out. I know one of your girlfriends looks like a roadkill mortician but the rest of them are so beautiful and would’ve made wonderful partners in life! But somehow the inner insecure child in you insisted you’ll never be good enough for them! They all loved you so much and you’ll be surprised to know that until now.. some of them still do! I gave you sensitivity women won’t ordinarily find in a typical Adam! Heck, I gave you charisma! A good sense of humor! Befitting that of a million movie-leading men! I molded you into the greatest storyteller capable of dishing out enchanting conversations that women fall deeply into! I fell a little short on looks but figured you’d take advantage of your other capabilities. Like how you can cut your nails in the dark without any problem. Oh, but you did not! You threw these all away! Now you’re just a still single guy with an impending mid-life crisis…
Tears roll down. You wipe both your cheeks. Very slowly, tiny stars fall from the sky. That was the moon saying goodbye. Telling you you had your chance…
Someone with your lifestyle should be branded unlucky. But the fact that up to this day, you still haven’t put a gun to your head makes you a winner. Knowing that someday, you will face the beginning of a brand new day with a smile.
Or a bullet in your head.
Whichever comes first.
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