He talks incessantly on the mysteriousness of the meaning of life. I’m drinking tea and wearing green polka-dots. I’m willing to absorb and spend away some of my precious Saturday idleness but not more than. [Why am I so fond of italicizing words when no one really bothers on that minute variation? What nonsense!] He read four (4) of his journal entries on the meaning of…yeah right, life. I started drifting halfway his first. This cut suits him better. He looks manly; despite the broad forehead. I cheated with my answers because I do not want to repeat myself. Ahh. You’re problem is this? My solution is this. I sipped my tea. You continue blurting. The greenery outside is more enticing. Please stop talking.
We suit each other. I like you when you’re insane. I don’t like it when you protect me and clutch my hand. It invades my privacy and reiterates that I’m petite and helpless. I’m not. I can carry this. I can go here. I believe this. When the monsters of work and family eat you, you shut down and disappear into thin air. I comb my hair. You are there but not there. I like you when you are messy ‘cause I turn messy too. It’s okay. I can survive quietness. I’m just kind of worried about the other one…
..the one that turns into a kid; the annoying, assuming, hair tearing one. We speak different languages, I know. I like you when you’re not a kid. Please stop being one. Sometimes I get rebuked by the way I assume our ecosystem. My brother’s voice suddenly storms my mind and shouts “Maldita ka talaga.” And I come to you and hug you from behind, just like the way I hug my mother. Oblivious, your eyebrows ask. Nothing I’d say. Nothing.
I think you are ready to become a mother. You could not stop pointing out my flaws. You were unstoppable. While I substitute the buzz sound for the usual diatribe, I try to extinguish the thought of me not wanting to hang-out with you again. Maybe you are right. Maybe this is correct. It would not hurt to consider at times, yeah? But would you also kindly let me win? You know, from time to time. Just once dude, just give me one. Look, there is another human here. Breathing, feeling, listening, thinking. Last time I check, I have a brain. And yes, a sexy one.
For penultimate thoughts, I’ll have the Mathematician. The one I thought of when I do my laundries; just because you can drive and churn numbers. Well what else. Nothing again. The interactions served were not enough to solidify anything.
Someone challenged my Philippines. It was a discussion. Opinions? Check! I gave arguments. Supported them with statistics. Statistics your face! Magulo ka.
These. What I get from eating congee for 3 consecutive lunches. I hope tomorrow’s a meal.
[Retrieved from my old journal.]