i was caught in my own temperament. between forcing my stomach to jolt out the pain and pushing my eyeballs to feel the shy sun, i was caught in my own temperament. the usual doubts and questions, which have become clearer by days that it is only i who could give them away. before i could tiptoe into my confusion, my steps were paused. we meet again. i swear it looks like an obese rat. drown in its own marshmallow-land of twigs and dirty cold river. clearly our second rendezvous wasn't pleasant. my voice tweaked its highest pitch as the rat or whatever it is scurried into the woods. good riddance i suppose. the first encounter was when Aida saw it wiggling amongst the morbid ground. not the surprise i'd hope for when i strut alone any day now, but better than to think of the possibility of pleasing my confusion by taking a walk down the streets of home. it's healthy. the walk.
***
it's my first sit by the window at the coffee house, alone. celebrating digestion of thoughts by myself. well there's an eye-candy sitting next to me. i should be writing responses to my classmates' work of fiction; two for this week. i was told not to make judgment based on the first read. so i'm throwing timid thoughts just because i discovered an intersection between the two. drugs. maybe i'm wrong, maybe i'm judgmental, but maybe the american kids need to broaden their scope of perceptions. there's more to life than just dealing with adolescent-shit. add more substance than just scoundrels rummaging from one trash to another for a second of unjustified epiphany.
***
screw me for having so much rage gushing every possible vein there's inside my body but some people are just well impossible. that's the nicest i could be. your pathetic showcase of innocence is no longer an applause. so please cut the crap out. i need to cool this off. luckily the much awaited parcel greeted me at the doorstep. i would've seriously gone bonkers with the kicking intestines not agreeing with my first day of menses. your face has disgust written all over it. i'm sorry but there's no detergent that'll suit my liking to wash it off.
