Confused-Shoes

I was sweaty and out of breath. The morning was calm, the demons in me subdued, my fantasies uneventful. Somehow, though, I couldn’t help but decry the state of my consciousness. I was unable to transcend beyond my petty frustrations, my ambiguous motives. I felt sick to the stomach.

The night before, she had sent me a letter. A letter which I couldnt bear to read one more time after I first read it. It was too painful, way too painful for me to bear. Of course, the thought hits me that I might have overlooked a few details, but what the hell. It came to me loud and clear. She was, once more, pushing me away.

What made me sad is despite my intentions of staying, she kept on telling me that why should I stay if pain is all that I’d get? Well, i said, I’m quite tired from it all, and so she said, ok, I understand you have to leave, fine, take care. To think that we had some sort of sex life? No, seriously, I mean, I mean, what the hell, what the hell. We have isolated love from its harmonious complexity to its most indistinct note: selfishness.

These things ran into my head as I walked, rather absent-mindedly, towards the main library. With my 9 am Gudang Garam, I sat down, legs spread far apart, elbows resting on my hips, and enjoyed the smoke. The cigarette was crackling up a bit, and I wished I had some maryjanes or a vodka and tonic or whatever to keep me with that funny feeling of melting away.

Was I guilty? Of course I was. Guilty because I was betraying my moral standards? Maybe, we could put it that way. But what the hell. The guilt only makes the hurting all the more sweeter. It is the follow through that completes the perfect 15-foot jumper.

Suddenly, a faint voice said ‘excuse me’. I looked up and I got so tense, the security guard was standing beside me. Oh man, I had it now, I thought, jail and all and expulsion and what about the freakin’ Magna cum laude? But He smiled and asked if he could have a light. I laughed a little bit and handed him my pink Cricket. He thanked me and walked away down the steps.

I felt so sick. I felt terrible. Miserable. Life was crumbling down and I was caught right in the middle of the ruins. I needed anyone and yet I marvelled at my capacity to enjoy failure. Like I was born for it.

I got up, feeling a little light in the head and went to the door of the Main Library. I breeezed through the security checks and wires and all. As I entered the Men’s room I quickly found my favorite urinal spot. The place was empty and I proceeded to pee.

I noticed that there was a little salagubang drowning in the pool of urine and phlegm and toilet water. It was trapped, its feet stuck somewhere. Barely alive, it responed by moving its feet as I dumped my load onto it. I took pity of it and wanted to pick it up but I realized that I didnt want to go into that much trouble, soiling my hands and all just to save a pathetic, dying insect without a soul.