Monday, 29 February 2016

Story #188 - Waiting

Some people said that you sleep a third of your life. You eat for a quarter of your life. You study and work for the other third. And the last bit is waiting.
Waiting and waiting for something to happen. Anything. 
You wait to see if you pass the test, pass the grade, pass the year. You wait to see if that shy boy or girl says yes going out, and then you have to wait until you see them; you also have to wait to see if you truly felt a spark.
You eat something, and you to see how you feel. It might make you fat, so you have to workout and wait for the results. It might make you sick, in which case you go to the pharmacy, wait there to get your pills, come home, and wait to see if it's helpful.
Oh, did I mention that if you have a child, you have to wait hours upon hours at the hospital? You get bonus points if you're a guy who spends his whole time there and hold her hand. If she squeezes too tight, squeeze back and see what she says.
Waiting...go to the store, see your doctor, see your friends, family. You wait for all of these.
They say you sleep for a third of your life. I think you wait for three quarters of your life. I don't know about the last quarter.

Sunday, 28 February 2016

Story #187 - Park bench therapy (final part)

"If that's the case, why don't I feel good enough?"
"That's the reason. When you feel you don't belong, you will feel different."
"I don't really buy that."
"If that were the case, how come there aren't more glitches?"
"How do you know there aren't?"
"I don't see them that often?"
"If you were like these people that just roam the streets instead of being on that bench, do you think I would have noticed you?"
"Probably not."
"There you go. You said you wanted to go back and look the rest of them. That's what most people do. Others disappear. And the select few that achieve something, they do so by showcasing their difference without backing down."
"And what do you suggest I do?"
"Make a list with the things you're good at, then get working on your dreams. If you don't have any, we will find something."
"Promise you won't abandon me?"
"I promise. But you have to work hard."

Saturday, 27 February 2016

Story #186 - Park bench therapy (part 5)

"You want to do more?"
"I'm feeling pumped up, so yes."
"Then, how about we sit on a bench?"
"Why would we do that?"
"To tell me what you've learned."
"What I've learned? That's stupid. If you wanted to deflate me, you succeeded."
"I didn't want that."
"That's why I don't like going around with people."
"But I made you do something you would have never done on your own."
"And you know why I couldn't do it on my own?"
"Because you're afraid."
"No...yes, but that's besides the point. It looks weird when someone just howls like that."
"It does. Society made you think in a certain way, and when you have something different happening, it feels like a glitch. You wonder how to react. That's why kids light up when magicians are on the street, when dancers make moves. Those people who don't want to have a regular job makes others believe in the glitch."
"From my understanding, you made me be a part of the glitch, then you killed it."
"I guess I did."
"Therefore, what now?"
"I don't know.
"That's frustrating. Very frustrating. I'm really annoyed right now. I'm going home. I can at least cry myself to sleep and get back to being part of the regular people. I don't want to be a glitch."
"I think you were already one. That's why you were on the bench for so long."

Friday, 26 February 2016

Story #185 - Park bench therapy (part 4)

"We've been walking for a half an hour now. How much longer?"
"I wanted to find a suitable spot. I wanted to get you out of the park and its solitude into the busy streets of the city. And this is as busy as it can get for this time."
"I don't like where this is going."
"Great. I want you to howl like a wolf?"
"Huh? Howl? Why?"
"You don't like sharing, right? You don't like to speak up. You'd much rather get hurt and drag yourself to the hospital than call an ambulance or yell for help."
"Is that such a bad thing?"
"You have a voice, don't you? It's time to use it."
"No. I'm not going to howl like a bloody wolf."
"Not like a bloody one. Just a regular one."
"Hah. The answer is still no."
"Are you afraid that everyone will stop in this perimeter and watch you? They'll just flat out stop whatever they're doing, and glance at you for 10-15 seconds? Is that what scares you to death?"
"How the hell do you know what ails me?"
"I have a hunch. If I howl, will you howl after me?"
"What if we do it together?"
"Give me one solid reason why not."
"'s stupid."
"Do you like singing? Or singers?"
"Yeah, sure."
"How do you think those people started singing?"
"I doubt they howled."
"No, probably not, but they got themselves out of their comfort zone and started doing it. And they felt great."
"Do you want to be stuck in this silence for the rest of your life?"
"Look, I-I-I'm afraid that even if I do this, nothing will change."
"People go through ten steps whilst they're in rehab. You can say that this is your first."
"Fine. If it'll make you stop nagging me, I will do it. But only after you."
"Okay. Augh Augh Auuuuuuu!"
"What the hell was that? A neutered hamster? People are laughing."
"Great. I made they're day better by making them laugh. Whether I sounded like a wolf or not is beside the point. I did it. I feel better. Others are the same. And since you're talking shit, how's about you show me how it's supposed to be."
"That was terrific."
"Oh, God."
"How do you feel?"
"Like I wanna die."
"No, you don't."
"I don't. I feel sweaty, though. And strangely pumped up."
"See? You were also afraid of how people would react, and apart from some laughter, everybody's going their way."
"Yeah. What's next?"

Thursday, 25 February 2016

Story #184 - Park bench therapy (part 3)

"I like to push buttons."
"Is that you job? Or more of a hobby? Does it pay well?"
"At least I could make you laugh."
"And you made yourself smile in the process."
"Your mission is complete then, isn't it?"
"Do you want to get rid of me that fast?"
"Yes. I like to be sad alone."
"Why must you be sad in the first place?"
"Cause... I don't like my life."
"Change it."
"It's not that easy."
"What's stopping you?"
"I have never thought it."
"You mean you were sad just to be sad instead of making a change?"
"... Now that you say it out loud, yeah, exactly like that."
"Since you're heard it out loud, what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know. I wasn't planning on anything. Just sulking and going through the motions, and hoping that one day something will happen that'll wake me up."
"What if something inside you were to happen to warrant that outside change?"
"I don't see anything at the moment."
"Have you ever seen something?"
"A long time ago."
"What happened to that guy?"
"I guess he became complacent, he lost his smile, and he just got bored."
"Let's try something that'll unbore you."
"Like what?"
"Hey, you're stuck in a rut. You need some fresh things in your life. Be quiet and come along."

Wednesday, 24 February 2016

Story #183 - Park bench therapy (part 2)

"Can't say that I miss crying, although sometimes I wish I could do it."
"What's stopping you?"
"It doesn't come out."
"Have you had chances?"
"And nothing."
"Nope. I'm looking at the thing that's making me be sad, I tingle my chin and eyes, but nothing's coming out. Because of that, I feel I have no emotions."
"I think you have, just that they're hidden somewhere. Something important should happen to make you tear again."
"Well, if and when it happens, I'll wait for it to happen. However, that's not what we're here to talk, are we?"
"I wanted to decipher you, that's all."
"Nobody can do that."
"Have you let anyone?"
"Probably not."
"Fine. Nobody. Are you happy?"
"I'd be happier if you weren't sad."
"Not gonna happen anytime soon."
"Okay. What do you want to talk about?"
"What hobbies do you have?"
"I want to shut up and you want me to talk. Fickle, ain't ya?"

Tuesday, 23 February 2016

Story #182 - Park bench therapy (part 1)

"There isn't anyone else on the bench."
"Yeah. Looks like it."
"I've passed by here all day. Are you okay?"
"I'm healthy if that's your question."
"I don't think you are."
"Because I'm sitting on a bench in the park?"
"Because you look down, and every time I went on this road your head was down. Even now."
"Yes, well..."
"Come on, tell me about it."
"Why not?"
"You're a stranger."
"Exactly. You look like the kind that can't talk to your parents about this stuff. Or anybody else for that matter."
"I guess so."
"Since I'm a stranger, I will vanish out of your life after this conversation. You have nothing to lose if you share your sorrows."
"Probably not. But it's hard."
"I know. You to get better, yes?"
"Heh. That's a yes. Why not we start from today with snail steps."
"Snails don't take steps."
"Pedantic, huh?"
"You are. And that's great. Everyone has their own uniqueness."
"Not everyone, but thanks, I guess."
"I take it you like compliments, yet you can't accept them for some strange reason?"
"Have you ever had a pet?"
"A cat."
"Did you like it?"
"Yes and no. It died anyway."
"Did that make you sad?"
"Yes. I was surprised that I even shed tears."
"It must have meant something."
"I suppose... Yeah, it left an impression on me. I haven't had anything die before, and what died after didn't affect me."
"Then that first time was the catalyst. Have you cried after?"
"There were reasons, but no."
"Do you miss that?"

Monday, 22 February 2016

Story #181 - Bartending affairs

"Yo, barmate, gimme anotha' one."
"In' that wha'cha called?"
"I'm a bartender, if you're talking about my job."
"Oh. Mate, tenda', what da difference?"
"We're not friends is what."
"Huuu, you offended o' somethin'."
"It's the first time I've seen, and you're drunk, so yeah."
"How'z about I buy ya one?"
"I'm fine."
"What then? Pussy? Drugs?"
"You a pimp?"
"Hah. Yous funny, mate. Nah. I jus' have clout."
"So, wha'chu want?"
"Anything but alcohol."
"Alright. Be back in a few."
"Like that'll happen."

"Back, barmate."
"Missed me?"
"We'll see."
"Fair enuff. Gimme yo palm."
"You playing an act?"
"Nah, mate. Come on."
"Like that?"
"Fuck, man. Is that...! Cocaine?"
"Yeah. A girl, too."
"You're doing this just so you can call me barmate?"
"Yusee, there's somethin' inner inside you, thas why ya soua grapey."
"I can make things happ'n. How'z about you ring me? He' mah card."
"I still don't know why you're doing this, but I'll take it."
"Cool. Enjoy, barmate."

Sunday, 21 February 2016

Story #180 - A love for Sunday

It's Sunday. I've been waiting for her since Monday morning. It's been a while since I last saw her with clear eyes. With a clear schedule. With a clear mind.
When she arrives, I should be more thrilled than I am, but for some reason I'm bored of this scarcity. In fact, why does she have to come once every seven days? Why can't she be here daily, or by-weekly?
Does she know that because she's that special to us, she chose the best day of the week to grace us with her presence?
And is it really the best day?
Just think about it. Yesterday you had time to recover after those five dreadful days, and today, while you're enjoying your time, you can't help but feel that you're counting down the minutes until it reaches midnight and you go back to your job, back to something most don't enjoy, back to the daily dread, back to an incarceration against your will. Of course, the alternative to that is to live on the streets. Or to figure out something where you're the boss. That takes patience.
It's Sunday. Supposed to be the day of the week. It doesn't feel like that anymore.

Saturday, 20 February 2016

Story #179 - Moving out

There comes a point when you decide to move.
Either you want something bigger, or can't afford it any longer, or you're bored and need a change, when you have to pack up your things and get out is one of the worst things.
Unless you somehow have a place of your own in this climate, where you can live there for any number of years without the need to change things, this might not be valid for you.
But when the date looms in and you have to, after putting it over, take all your things out and pack them, you realize you will get a headache.

Having so many things out of nowhere, that you don't really know when they stacked up.
But you can kinda figure it out. Trousers here, a mic there, shoes somewhere else.
You came in the place with three bags and a backpack worth of stuff. Now you have double that. Although you wonder why, you kinda get it. You were hoping you'd spend a long time in this place. A year, two, maybe more. That hasn't happened.
Now you wonder what was going on through your head.
So you take a five minute breather, figure out what packing company to call, and get into it. The nightmare will be over for a while. Or so you hope.

Friday, 19 February 2016

Story #178 - Dealing with a heckler

"Oi, mate, suck my shorts."
"I'd love to, but fiber is bad for my stomach. I'll tell you what, though. If your girlfriend sucks my penis, I might reconsider. I'll feel bad at first, but then I'll feel good."
"I don't have a girlfriend."
"Oh. I see. So you have Pam and her 5 sisters. I'm sure you were waiting to go home tonight and do one, but because of what I said, you'll do it tomorrow morning. A fast and cranky one. And you'll spray your walls. You'll teach that Banksy that he's not the master of graffiti, since he doesn't know about jizzffiti. Your bathroom walls will look so different that your flatmates will wonder what the fuck's going on. And why the window is so wide open. Then they'll notice the spots people used to make in toilet stalls and tell you to get out, but not before you wipe."
And like that, the guy left the room.

Thursday, 18 February 2016

Story #177 - Change of hair

Alright. I'm going to change my hair color form black to blond, is what I told mom. She was fine with it. I wonder what she'll say when she sees the choice I've made.

"Hi, mom."
"Good lord."
"I haven't joined the church."
"Not that with dye, no."
"Come on. Everybody's doing it."
"No. People have blond, brunet, black, and red hair. There are occasional ones who go for pink, blue, purple, orange, and maybe some mix, but not what you have on."
"Okay, so not everybody has mine."
"Pretty sure you're the only one."
"I wanted to stand out."
"I'm sure you do. The police can keep a nice watch now."
"What kind of idiot would do something to attract attention?"
"There are plenty, but no one in their right mind would use this color."
"I don't care. I like it."
"When did you do the dye?"
"Two days ago."
"Been out?"
"To the grocery store mostly."
"What did they say?"
"Most of them had their jaws on the floor."
"How did that make you feel?"
"Sad for them."
"You think you want to revolutionize the hair industry?"
"Haven't thought about that. I wouldn't mind."
"That's not going to happen. Now change it back before you get a record or something worse."
"I'll be fine, mom. It's not that weird of a color, okay? People will accept it."
"I'm not accepting. Get out. Wear a hat if you want to come here again."
"Don't be like this."

Jeez. People are so finicky about it. Not like the bloody thing is that weird. Just bright.

Wednesday, 17 February 2016

Story #176 - That dream moment?

Everybody loves to have that dream moment. You know, the one where you can look at it and say, yeah, that's the moment that I'll cherish for the rest of my life.
What if it never arrives?
What if you bounce around from place to place without a whiff of nostalgic sentiment in your head?
There are people who go through life like gum through a child's mouth, and maybe they wouldn't care. Or they'd overrate their regular moments.
I suppose that's fine in itself.
But can you really go without having a happy moment?

Tuesday, 16 February 2016

Story #175 - The man that hated

"Help me."
"Just some bread, please?"
"Bread you say? That's not gonna do you any good."
"Anything that you can spare."
"I can't spare anything."
"Okay. Thank you for your time."
"Mate, how did you end up like this?"
"You seem like a busy man."
"I can listen."
"I'd rather not bother you."
"Have it your way."

Might I say that I'm glad he was bothered. I'm tired of these people popping on the streets every other week and ask for sympathy. It's their damn fault for getting there in the first place. Why should I give to everyone?

"What if, one day, something bad will fall on you and you can't have an income anymore?"
"Who said that?"
"Your soul."
"You can laugh, but you can't deny that it hasn't crossed your mind."
"I don't know what I'll do in that situation."
"Neither did most of them, which is why they're in this situation."
"Yeah, well, I'm not giving anyone my nice feelings."
"Okay. You'll want some of that one day. I'll look forward to how you'll feel when you'll suffer the same."

Monday, 15 February 2016

Story #174 - Improptu talk show segment (final part)

And now we are back on the air. I've picked myself off the floor. Rachel is all smiles, sitting beside me, biting her lower left part of the lip. Damn. She kissed me earlier. I still can't believe that happened.
However, now we have to fix Dan. He's motionless, despite everybody trying to revive him during the break.
"Hi again. Welcome to the young and the pouty. If you were expecting something different, then you'd better stay on the channel as you might experience just that." I said. Where the hell am I getting this stuff from?
"Hey, you little rascal." He's not replying. Hmm...
I go over to his side of the desk and try to pick him up like you do with a baby, but he's too heavy. And he's not speaking, either. I don't think he minds it. I try it in a different way, and lift him up by the waist onto my shoulder. He's still not saying anything.
I go over back to where I was siting and put him, gently, on the chair. He looks like he's dead. Inside, at least.
I really don't know what to do with the man, so I simply go back to the desk and sit in his office chair. Feels weird being like this.
"Alright, we are joined by the wonderful Rachel, and the sulking Dan. Let's give them a round of applause. Now, I don't know what's wrong with that the host, or former host, at least for tonight..." I get interrupted when the producer tells me something. "Apparently, he ate bad squid, so he might have indigestion. Good thing I don't eat fishy stuff. Just look at that face. It's the face that says I made a mistake for lunch."
"Since this is our first edition, and we don't have a script, as you could tell, what will happen next is beyond me."
"Rachel, what would you like to do?"
"Talk about fishes."
"Do you like the blowfish?"
"I've never seen it."
"What about the puffer fish?"
"Haven't seen that one either."
"Which one have you seen?"
"I haven't seen one, but I'd like to see a trout some day."
"Okay. I know a place where the catch is good."
"What about Dan?"
"He'll get indigestion again. Do you want to go now?"
"Okay," she said and stood up.
"That's all, folks. See you again, maybe, on the young and the pouty. Have a lovely night. I have fishing to do."

Sunday, 14 February 2016

Story #173 - Improptu talk show segment (part 1)

I don't know how we got to this point. One moment ago Rachel was talking to Dan, the host of the late night show, then they stopped without saying anything offensive.
I am stuck in the middle. Literally, in the chair that's closest to his desk.
I go back and forth with my eyes between them, and she's sulking, glazing at the carpet on the floor, while he's holding his chin in palm.
"I'm a guest. He should talk to me, right?" I'm thinking, but seeing as how that's not going to happen, I might as well take over.
"Good evening, everybody, and welcome to the young and the pouty. The only place where you can see this show is on this channel, which I don't know what is."
Some guy from the back yells "CBS".
"CBS, NBC, ABC, STD, CBT, HIV, AIDS. They're all channels, but the last one is one letter too long!"
After that little giggle, I do hand puppets of what my encounters with them might be like. With Dan is some talk until he pisses me off and I punch him. There's a different chat with Rachel which ends with her kissing me. So I turn to her.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm sure there's something. Why don't you tell me about it? It'll make you feel good."
"It won't."
"If you don't want to say it out loud, you can whisper it into my ear."
"Hmm... What would like to do now to get out of this feeling?"
"I haven't thought about it."
"Would you like to slap somebody?"
" that you mention it..." She turns towards me for the first since we've been talking, and smacks me hard over my right cheek.
"That was harsh."
"It was, and it made me feel better."
"Now you have to make me feel better."
"How can I do that?"
"I'd like a kiss." I know. I'm cheeky.
Rachel holds my face in her palms, brings hers forward, and our lips collide. Her eyes are closed, mine are not. The whole thing lasts maybe five seconds. After she takes her mouth away, I gently remove her hands, then I slide on the floor.
"And we'll be back after this brief commercial," I say without a care in the world. Damn. Wasn't expecting that to happen, despite my hand puppet shenanigans.

Saturday, 13 February 2016

Story #172 - The perils of going on a diet

"That's it. Tomorrow I'm going on a diet." I said to myself after I ate a few bags of chips and downed them with beer. 
I became heavy for a while, and couldn't prevent myself from not gaining weight. 
But this time I decided to stop it. I couldn't fit in my trousers any longer and that bummed me out as I enjoyed walking around in them.

Tomorrow came and I grabbed a salad, which made me hungrier, so I had gnocchi and some fruit from a can. Needless to say, I couldn't move afterwards. Despite being busy with various things, I couldn't do anything. My brain kept yelling at me to move, yet my carcass decided it wasn't worth the effort. 
All this, and instead of reading or at least something to stimulate myself, I decided to jump on my bed, pull the duvet over, and close my eyes. 
Bad decision. Woke up around 9 pm, feeling like a hangover started. Didn't know what to do. 
Stayed up an hour and crashed. It was worse then before. I did it with my head on the table, in front of the laptop. Regained consciousness around 4 in the morning, when I had the munchies and the crunchies. Didn't know which one I should do first, but the can won.

Diets don't work for me, so I have to figure out something else. I heard that walking a lot and running might help.

Friday, 12 February 2016

Story #171 - Don't smile, don't laugh

I was walking hand in hand with my mom one morning. The sun was its usual self, giving us a chilly smile. Both my mother and I were wearing dark clothes, with her having a brown skirt, sweater, and boots, and me dressed in a navy blue jacket, jeans, and sneakers. I wasn't warm, and although we needed more garments, she refused it. "Why?" I had asked.
"It's the law, darling."
"The law?"
"You have to wear the same color, and you mustn't complain if you aren't lukewarm."
"They will take you, and I couldn't stand being away from you."
I didn't ask her anything after that. They will take me? I was a confused seven year old at this point. I guess that sometimes it's better to not ask questions.

We walked and walked between the unkempt streets with bricks as the ground and buildings made from concrete that covered everything. Come to think of it, even our house was one big box with the only light being from the light bulb in the center of the room. I had wanted to see the outside from within, yet when I asked, I wasn't answered. I guess this is why. I don't know what happened this time that mom replied with something other than "You mustn't know or ask these questions again." is beyond me. All I know is that she was shivering and her hand was holding on mine tightly, and although painful, I was glad about the warmth it provided.

As we continued our walk through these similar-looking areas, I saw something I shouldn't have. I know that since I stopped, my mom stopped and glanced where my eyes were, then dragged me away faster than I'd seen here do anything in her life, including admonishing me. A little girl was laughing with such a gleeful sound unlike any other I'd heard before, and not five seconds later, it was silenced by those mother warned me about.
I wish I could have heard that lovely noise for longer. I wish I could make it. I wish life would be different.

Thursday, 11 February 2016

Story #170 - Going hermit

Sometimes when you run, you get crazy ideas. It's like a super power that only happens when you're in that kind of motion. I was running by the southbank, and the river was pretty high up against the barricades. The water didn't look appealing, and I'm sure there are dead things down there somewhere. But through all that grittiness I thought about going for a swim. I'm not best swimmer around, and I'm lacking in practice, so my mind flew to hermits of all things.
I realize how and why people do that. They get bored with others, they don't want contact of any kind, they know they can get by with the bare minimum, and they like to forage at times. I get it, it's minimalism to an M. 
And because they're doing that, they can go hiking the wildest hills and peaks, they can go swimming in rivers, streams and go down crazy waterfalls that people living in cities go to once or twice in their life, if that. 
They're lucky in a way. Getting to live free of others, and especially, free from the state's issues. 
I'm sure I'm not saying everything that's great about this type of living, but I'm sure that what we find trivial on social media and TV, they'd look at us funny and wonder what the heck is wrong with us. 
Indeed, what the heck is wrong with us?

Wednesday, 10 February 2016

Story #169 - Half-time motivation

Every player comes back in the dressing room. Heads lowered, feet barely touching the concrete floor, bodies full of water, but nobody is breathing heavy.
The coaches come in. You could hear banging noises outside, chants, claps, jokes, and swear words. Nothing inside our rectangular space.
My colleagues were on the benches, on the floor, or leaned against walls. The head coach had his chin in his palm and cap over his eyes.
I looked around and I didn't see my teammates, only husks of people I used to know.
"Alright, listen up." I said as I started with a clap. "I don't understand why you're all like this. Before the match started we were joking and ribbing each other, saying that we'd kick their asses, and now look at you. I don't really understand what happened. Maybe because we have been trailing since the fifth minute, maybe because of a few mistakes. It doesn't matter. We are in the biggest match of our lives and we have to win this match. And we can win this match. Not too long ago we had shivers when we were facing some of the bigger names, yet here we are, in the final of the biggest competition our sport has to offer. And it feels like you guys just forgot it. You forgot your strengths, your skill, your unity. You forgot that not too long ago we were dreaming of being in this position and claiming the gold. Right now we are about to kick it away. We have one more shot once we go out there. And I know that after we retire, after we have won championships and cups, this trophy will be the biggest you could win. This will be the biggest treasure that you have. Because it's the first time. We don't know if there will be a second time, We can think about it when the time comes, but for right now, let's thing of the beginning. The beginning of the end for them. And the beginning of the best night for us and for our fans. I've enjoyed my time with you guys, and I don't know when it'll end, but I know that I want to go out there, and when I come back, I want to say that I met winners. What do you guys want to say?"

Tuesday, 9 February 2016

Story #168 - It was supposed to be a regular day (final part)

I went back inside his pad, with my legs zigzagging all over the wrong places. I had to balance myself with my arms on the side, but once I entered his house, I had the support of the wall.
Inching my way forward, he put his hand on my left shoulder while hoisting me up from the right side. 
"Thought you might need a hand."
I didn't say anything. I carried on walking like nothing had happened. 
As we approached the living room, Stacy appeared.
"Did you guys just make out?"
We looked at each other with mouths open and eyebrows raised, then back at her.
"Yes, we made out." Jim said. We both started to laugh.
"Alright, made up, made up..." She scratched her head as she looked at the floorboards.
"So, where are those burgers or whatever?"
"Oh, I called the burger place. The delivery man will bring them in about twenty minutes." He said.
"Great. I need to sit down now." I said and nudged him along, and he caressed me along until I reached the seat.
I was upset minutes ago, yet I'm fine now. I'm weird.

Monday, 8 February 2016

Story #167 - It was supposed to be a regular day (part 22)

"Well, you said you'd knock me flat on my ass, but you seem to have knocked yourself out." I know that Jim likes to toy with me, and as much as I've grown to hate him today, he has a bloody point.
"Don't worry. Once I get on my feet, I'll get to you." Even though I say that, I'm not sure I can convince myself of it.
"Are you that upset about what I did?"
"Well... Yes, but I'm also mad at myself for falling for it."
"And that means?"
"You made me embarrass myself and act stupidly around her."
"That's your fault, buddy."
I'd like to reply, however, I know the answer. He's right.
"Look. I get it. I'll let you punch me once in the belly if that will make you feel better."
I look at him with my eyes almost coming out, then I glance around with my eyebrows lowered. "Okay, I'll take you up on that offer. And I'm leaving after that."
I push myself and manage to stand up. My feet seem to have a mind of their own for a few seconds. I hate being drunk.
"Let's postpone the punch." Jim says.
"Getting cold feet?"
"No. I wouldn't want you to give me a weak one and be unhappy." He smiles.
"Do you always have to find the upswing to something?"
"No, but I like to." So he says. 
I wobble myself towards him, then I pass and nudge him with my elbow as I go beside his body. "That doesn't count." He laughs.

Sunday, 7 February 2016

Story #166 - It was supposed to be a regular day (part 21)

Several seconds have passed and I was still there. I heard steps, followed by laughter.
"You're like a monkey that's flustered to be out of its habitat," Jim said as he grinned.
"Fuck you." There, I said it. Can't believe I did.
"Strong words."
"We both know you've been messing with me."
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. What if I really like Stacy?"
"I don't think so. You just like to spite people."
"Everybody needs to laugh now and then."
"Not at the expense of others' enjoyment."
"You gonna cry now?"
"No. I'm gonna come down and kick your ass."
"She said you're stuck, so I'm here to help you down."
"Oh, I am stuck, but I'll be even more when my foot gets you in the groin."
"Looking forward to it."
I can't believe this asshole. Smirking like that.
But he is succeeding in making my blood boil, and giving my body a boost to actually flinch.
My feet are going, and pulling me along, towards the center of the tree, with my hands following suit. It takes a while, especially with bloodied hands that became numb not too long ago.
"Hey, you're close. Do you want me to come up there and push you down?"
"Was that supposed to be funny?"
"It certainly makes me smile."
I'm holding my breathe as try to have a certain balance. 1...2...3...
"Well done. You jumped. You okay?"
"You're gonna get it now." Although I say that, I landed on my feet, then fell on my knees and felt pain I've never experienced before surging through my body.

Saturday, 6 February 2016

Story #165 - It was supposed to be a regular day (part 20)

I somehow managed to get myself in the tree. Broke a nail, cracked another one, and ripped my right shoe and my trousers on the thigh area. I felt like a mess, and now I started looking like one, too.
But the most important thing was that I was now in the tree. I planned on going on the branch, cling to the wall, then somehow jump on it and across. Sounds easy enough.
I catch my breath, take a big gulp of courage, and go on my way.
Hands first, one half-palm at a time, I inch my way towards the small part of the wooden limb.
Three palms later, I arrive at the middle. The sweat is pouring down my banana-colored face, my t-shirt is already soaked, and the blood from my nailless finger is starting to itch. In fact, it's almost burning. I wish I could put it in water and plaster the sucker... I'm losing my mind. I can feel it. But I can't linger. I'll figure this crap later.
I've advanced another palm's distance and I feel I can jump to the wall. Oh, lovely brick wall, how close you are. I can't do it. I'm rooted to this fuckin' thing and I can't move a muscle. What the hell? Come on...come on... Nope. My body doesn't want to. I am so weak. Can't fight for what I want. I might as well go down. Can I do that?
No. My feet won't move, either.
God, I look like a cat burglar. This is stupid.
"Doing a photoshoot?" Stacy said from behind me. It scared the shit out of me, but still couldn't make me flinch, for some reason.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Come down."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"My body's not cooperating."
"Oh. I'll get Jim. I'm sure he knows what to do."
"I'm sure he does."
On that sour note, she left.

Friday, 5 February 2016

Story #164 - It was supposed to be a regular day (part 19)

They've been talking for a while. It's a stupid meal decision. What could be so consuming?
But then again, I don't want to go there and check it out. Who knows what I might see that would piss me off.
Hmm... I might go out of this house through the tree. It's high enough to reach the wall, and long enough, too.
I don't think I should be doing this in my condition, but I want to leave this place. I need to forget about this day.
As I stand up, I feel that my head will drag me down, so down it's not funny. I grab it in my palms and try to walk forward. It's hard at first, since my body wants to go sideways and zig-zag. Heck, I keel over on the floor a couple of times, managing to land on my ass and not make a lot of noise. It's a good thing they're still yelping.
Crawling, as much as I hate it, is better for my current mind frame than walking.

After I succeeded in getting out of there, back into the patio, I now have to climb this wooden thing. And that's certainly annoying.  Especially since I don't have the same vigor. I'll stare at it for a bit and see what, if anything, comes from it.

Thursday, 4 February 2016

Story #163 - It was supposed to be a regular day (part 18)

Damn. The aspirin is horrible. Yuck. I need to drink something to soothe my mouth.
"Do you have any juice?"
"I don't remember," Jim says. "Besides, you checked it before."
"I only remember a lot of alcohol, and I don't want that now."
"Juice won't do you any good. Food might."
"So you've been drunk before."
"Not really. I just saw how my parents acted."
"Uh-huh. Not everything is the same for everybody."
"True, but some are. Like aspirin."
"It sucks."
"Probably, but it'll be useful for you."
"'re making my headache worse."
"I know." He laughs.
Laughing, he went back into the kitchen.
Stacy is looking at me with her head in her palms. "Why'd you go so overboard?" She says.
"I don't wanna talk about it." How could I? I'm an idiot. A jealous one.
"What do you want to eat?"
"I don't know what you eat in these conditions. Chicken? A burger?"
"I'll go ask him, then."
I think I shouldn't have come to his house after all. Or invited Stacy for that matter. I'm such a gloomy person... Oh, I need to change.

Wednesday, 3 February 2016

Story #162 - It was supposed to be a regular day (part 17)

After five minutes of throwing up, which felt like an eternity, I went back to the living room, with my hand on my head, trying to ease the burden of the dizzy eyes.
"You look like an ice cream with chocolate sprinkles," Jim says.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No. Just me."
"Here," Stacy hands me a glass of something that looks like water. "Drink it."
I put my lips on it and sipped a little bit. "It's warm." I say as I stick my tongue and tug my cheeks down.
"Yeah. Should make you feel better."
"I think I have some aspirin or some other pill in the house." He says and leaves me with her.
"You're an idiot." She says and presses her hand against my forehead.
"I wanted to enjoy myself. Like you guys were."
"Oh, you mean us kissing?"
"You don't have to spill it out, you know."
"I know. It's weird, that's all. I..."
"I think I found them," Jim shouted from the kitchen.
We were stuck looking at each other, but quickly backed away. She did, at least, since I was still trying to figure out how to clutch myself back into position.
"Here. Swallow them." He grabs my palm, turns it around, and puts two in it. Now I'm wondering if this day can go any worse.

Tuesday, 2 February 2016

Story #161 - It was supposed to be a regular day (part 16)

As fast as I closed my eyes, I opened them. I looked around, but my spinning head wasn't of any help. I glazed at those two and noticed they were saying something. I couldn't hear anything. It felt like I had bad wiring all of a sudden and I couldn't make the frequency work, no matter what.
Jim reached out his hand and touched mine, and that made me step back. No. More like lunge back. So far back that I fell with the chair.
My innards turned on the key, and as they raced to get to the top, I raced to get to the bathroom.
Lights on, door's open, let's cross the finish line. Yeah! Somehow I don't feel like a winner.
Only three beers and I'm already flushed out? Life's not fair and today's not my day.
Right now, in my drunken mind, I have to decide if I am to stay and be like this, or go out on the street and be like this. My folks aren't home. I don't live that far from here, so it should be fine.
Oh, here it goes again...
Damn. Such horrible noises followed by a nasty taste. The first time I felt the love buzz, the first time I drank alcohol, and the first time I puked. What else can I achieve today?

Monday, 1 February 2016

Story #160 - It was supposed to be a regular day (part 15)

After several games where they traded wins, and I was left as the folding guy, I finally received a nice hand. Two, five, eight, ten, and a J, all reds. I'm pretty sure I have this in the bag, and I might as well down another can, my third one.
"Whoa. Hold on, mate. You don't have to get so knackered, you know. It's not even 1 pm, and you're already like this."
When he said like this, he meant that my head was shaking. Heck, my left eye was slightly twitching. Something inside was telling me to stop, but I didn't care.
"Shut up. Let me enjoy myself."
Jim lifts his arms and presses them, hands first, against his chest, then moves his head from right to left in a slow manner. "Okay, I'm not gonna say anything else."
I wink at him. He grins.
"Anybody want cards?"
"I'll have three," Stacy says. The popular lad takes two. I take none.
"Shall we show them?" He says, smiling.
The girl does first and reveals two pairs with cards below ten. The guy has a three piece of kings. I show mine.
"When you get cards, you sure do get cards."
"Yeah. Stacy, strip or dare?"
She fidgets a bit, then utters "Dare!"
"I dare you to..." My eyes suddenly closed, my head smacked itself against the wooden table, while my hearing faded away.