dull black on a rug left hanginghome, 2001
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...are all in black.
Last night, I went out of the house and slept inside the van for at least two hours. Ate Ivy was very much upset and angry with me (because of very much valid reasons, yes...). I felt like the house suddenly shrinked like that little globe of a "lemonsito;" and mind you, it didn't feel good inside, my senses confused whether I was the seed or the juice evaporating towards nowhere in particular.
With the middle seat conveniently slapped down halfway it's length, I rested my body.
"I want to suffocate and die," was that cliche chant inside my head, and then out of my mouth; like those children's games with songs in them, the ones that you keep repeating, in a monotonous kind of way, the ones you absentmindedly sing in front of your breakfast plate.
The flourescent lamp of the parking area with hazy light patterns through the tinted glass caught my attention and I turned to chanting "And God said let there be a house" instead.
I slept to cheeks stained with guilty tears.
Last night, I went out of the house and slept inside the van for at least two hours. Ate Ivy was very much upset and angry with me (because of very much valid reasons, yes...). I felt like the house suddenly shrinked like that little globe of a "lemonsito;" and mind you, it didn't feel good inside, my senses confused whether I was the seed or the juice evaporating towards nowhere in particular.
With the middle seat conveniently slapped down halfway it's length, I rested my body.
"I want to suffocate and die," was that cliche chant inside my head, and then out of my mouth; like those children's games with songs in them, the ones that you keep repeating, in a monotonous kind of way, the ones you absentmindedly sing in front of your breakfast plate.
The flourescent lamp of the parking area with hazy light patterns through the tinted glass caught my attention and I turned to chanting "And God said let there be a house" instead.
I slept to cheeks stained with guilty tears.
3 comments:
vera!
first time i've read you.
you write beautifully.
hi Larry.
what's this I hear na you won a Palanca daw. uuy. :)
vera, a decision -- to suffocate yourself to death -- made on a moment of confusion is not a smart thing to do. what if your halfway to your death, then the confusion subsides (bulb light!) and you realize you want to live.
when you decide to suffocate yourself to death, do it not with confusion, but with conviction. and "sureness"; kanang you can't imagine yourself being anywhere else but in hell.
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