Waiting in a car,
Waiting for a ride in the dark.
The night city grows.
Look and see her eyes, they glow.
And there he was, with lips glistening. A smell of angst and sex lingers. He's absolutely stunning. I took another shot of Stolichnaya. I didn't catch his name, it doesn't really matter. What I was feeling wasn't really attraction or anything to that extent. I was actually repulsed. Why was I drinking alone?
Waiting for a roar,
Looking at the mutating skyline.
The City is my church,
It wraps me in the sparkling twilight.
He kept on pushing himself onto me while I was sitting on the stool. I didn't budge a bit. Grabbed my bag instead and headed out of the bar. To my surprise he followed me. I leaned on the lone lamp post a few blocks away and felt myself slump to the floor. The world was spinning, I've drank too much again. I looked up, the pretty lights were swirling in deep indigo.
"Come on Nik, you've had too much. Fun is good, but this is ridiculous," says the stranger.
"No! Lemme stay for here a bit. I can't go with you. I've to get home and sleep. My mom would kill me."
"Alright, let me get a cab then. I'll drop you off."
Waiting in the car,
Waiting for a ride in the dark.
Drinking in the lounge,
Following the neon signs.
Picked up my bag and unceremoniously threw up in the gutters. I've swung my head just to check if anyone is nearby doing the same thing. None. Just me and the stranger. Managed to move my shoes away from the putrid projectile.
I saw the stranger move closer. He got a cab. I tried my best to stand up straight, but I buckled and swayed. He grabbed my left arm and hauled me inside to the back of the cab. I smelled like shit. Good thing I still had my bottled water, mints and some alcohol.
This is screwed up. I might die of shame. And I was surprised he knew where I lived. I felt his arm hover over my head. The quintessential boyfriend-in-the-cinema move. Shit. I was in nowhere near normalcy to defend myself from whatever. I groaned. He laughed. I fell asleep.
He nudged me. I was stirred up from my drunken stupor. I realized we were in my neighborhood. I scurried out of the cab and I heard muffled noises. I didn't bother looking back. I found another lamp post. I emptied my guts out in full force now.
I managed to slide into the house without waking anyone. I took off every bit of clothing, showered and brushed my teeth. Drank 2 tablets of Advil and water. Put on my pajamas and slept. When I woke up, I heard my phone beep before it died. Plugged it in and the messages all came in at once.
"You idiot, you just don't know when to stop don't you," from an unknown number.
"Oh was it you? God, I didn't even ask for your name. I'm sorry."
"It's alright Nik. You really don't recognize me? We went to the same school back in 2003."
"Huh? Not really. I can't remember people in my school unless you were significant."
"Hahaha. I was the transferee. That should ring a bell. :D"
I didn't reply afterwards.
Holy fuck. My awkward history with high school: it all struck me like I'm sort of a lightning rod. He was really cute back then. In college, I found out he had an account with Downelink. My other gay classmates were pairing me and him. But I never really did talk to guy. He was a part of the cool and macho kids. I was a part of the nerds. So there's no common ground for anything. In fact, I just wished the the ground opened up and swallowed me and my bruised ego.
I cringed. I really liked that guy. He was handsome. He wasn't as smart as me though. But he's changed. He's hot now. Ugh... I blushed at the thought. Then I slapped myself high.
I still get his texts and I casually reply hi and hello. But that's about it.
It's so sad that the lamp posts had seen my humiliating night. It's like they're bowing its head, feeling sorry for me. I bet it's not only me that they saw. If only they could talk.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Thursday, October 25, 2012
So last night, I tried playing this game called Slender: The Eight Pages. It's basically my fears all summed up into one game. And because I wanted to scare myself since Halloween is nearing, I mustered all my brave hormones and played it.
It is an FPS (first-person shooter) game and you'll be playing a character who got trapped in a very dark forest with only a flashlight to carry around. You'll be doing nothing but finding those eight pages in a vast expanse of trees and woods. Those pages can solve the mystery of the Slender Man or the antagonist.
According to sources, Slender Man generally captures children for his victims. There are no evidences on how his victims were killed or how he got you in the game.
He doesn't really shoot bullets or run or whatever, he is just creepy and that's enough to scare the shit out of me. You have to collect the clues to escape the eerie forest. He just magically appears on your screen and be all creepy. And when he does, your character's sanity drains and your screen will start to get staticky and fuzzy. He has no facial features. (FUCK)
When you get your first page, he will appear to be really far. But when you get more pages or don't get them too quickly, he will appear more frequently and more closer to your line of sight. If he gets too close to you, your vision will blur and he will appear close up on the screen. You won't be able to press ESC or pause just to exit the game. And you will scream. (I punched my knee to stop me from shouting obscenities in the middle of the night and/or throwing my laptop away.)
What's funny is he isn't really scary. He just appears out of the darkness with his tentacles and doesn't do anything. What's also scary is that he looks like the ambient trees. You won't notice him until you look really close. And then you're gonna hear you're character's breathing go shallow and rapid. There's also that ambient noise when you know you're in deep shit. You just "die" of heart attack and fear of what Slender is gonna do to you.
You won't beat Slender though, he will ultimately kill you. You'll just get to look at all the 8 notes and learn the terror behind the myth. I couldn't sleep the next day without my lights on and I've also decided not to go camping any time soon. True story.
And with that I know what I will be wearing for Halloween.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
My dad usually goes home around past 12am. Usually drunk and inebriated. He usually rouses my mom up to talk with utter sincerity due to his alcohol. They just don't know that I overhear what they usually talk about. Sometimes, it's about their zombified relationship as husband and wife, other times, its about my future, a whole lot of times its regarding the relatives and in-laws.
Tonight's topic is about how we communicate at home. Mom claims that our house has no censors; she aptly described us, her kids, as blunt and blatant. Well, quite honestly my sister has found out that dad has gone out with his girl officemates. My mom and my sister suspects that he's up to his old tricks again. Sigh.
My sister really has gone out wild on my dad, dad just got his face slapped with bitter words. It's funny to see how the dynamic in our family has drastically changed. I decided to hold my tongue and they are eternally grateful for that because they are very much aware that I have the sharpest in the family. As much as I'd like to detach myself from them, as much as I'd like not to care, I can't. I really can't. It actually hurts so much to see how hostile are we at each other now and I can't do anything to try to fix it. We're as volatile as liquid nitrogen. And yet we still stick, by some miraculous means.
I love my family. But I don't know whether I can handle the pressure of being the family breadwinner. It's always the anathema to my dreams. And every fucking time this topic is brought up, I'm the always the one yielding. I have to because it's the right thing to do.
People have always told to me be positive about it, but really, I can't because I'm the one who's being compromised. I find it unfair. Do they even know how much I wanted to become a doctor? All the drama behind this pathologically happy facade? And no, I am not in my self-hypnosis anymore.
It's a constant struggle, between being practical or being radical. My mom tells me to follow my dreams and she somehow brings me back to reality with the current situation we are in. She doesn't know how she subliminally torments me. I just usually give out a long sigh.
It's just so hard, you know. Like I feel like giving up. I'm just so tired and I just wanna sleep. And in my dreams I wish and pray so hard that things will change, that maybe even God hears me in my sleep. I'm just holding on to whatever it is that I can hold to and I try to do everything that I can, bring in some food on the table. The trivial things that makes me happy. Because of being so pessimistic in life, even the smallest of surprises is a welcome treat. Sigh.
And then I've also thought of becoming a cat, 'cause cats are so cool. This last sentence has so much relevance with what I wrote.