And if you might listen carefully to their mumbling mouth, conversed in a dimly soft manner, you would notice that; in the end, life is a collection of tragedies, and what is the beauty of it? Life itself is a hoax, a dreamy dream in a sleepless night. The kind of dream that you desperately create in order to ease you to sleeping, and yet, it will only drags you, keeping you awake, sometimes for an hour or two, sometimes all night, and sometimes for eternity. You would be gasping for air, kicking ferociously in the depth of thoughts, trying to release yourself from it. Disdained, you wait for life to let you take a break, and it's a terrifying thing; for you do not know whether the break would be momentarily or eternal. And yet you still go to sleep, because you need it, and for the most part, because you had always believed that death would never betray you as life does during the day.
Rabu, 2 Disember 2015
He came by this morning. Unfortunately, I wasn't at home.
My neighbour said he seemed agitated. But I know he's furious. I asked my neighbour whether he had left any message to me.
My neighbour nodded and said, "He wants to kill you." That polite old man seemed worried. I had to assure him that he was actually joking.
Of course my neighbour didn't buy my story, but he let it passed anyway. Said he would keep a keen eye on me and adviced me to keep his number on a speed dial.
I had to do it in front of him, which I couldn't complain much. He was so persistent. I was really tired of work and longed for my bed since last night.
I got into the house. What a mess I have been these past few weeks.
I was too tired to do spring cleaning so I went straight to my room.
It was a disaster. I moaned frantically.
With a little will left in me, I pushed all the clothes aside and slammed myself onto the bed. It didn't take long for me to passed out. Like I said, I was really tired.
I was woken up by a loud knocks on the door. What time is it?
I tried to get up, but my body was too heavy for my head. I fell on the floor.
I rolled myself to face the ceiling. It's already dark. I have been passing out for almost half a day.
I stared blankly to the ceiling, hoping that my sights would penetrate it and found the sky. That was silly.
The knocks were getting louder. My head was getting clearer. I regained my consciousness and took a hold of my body.
It was really hard for me to synchronize my mind and body to do the bidding. Both were rebellious in their own ways.
I had to waste a huge portion of energy just to wake up. No wonder I always late for work.
The knockings were getting wilder, as if threatening to split the door into half. I walked to the door, still trying to balance myself while avoiding all those stuffs on the floor, figuring where the switch was.
I reached the handle. But the knocking suddenly died out.
I waited for about a minute at the door. No one was knocking anymore.
I turned myself away, found the switch, lighted the room, and let out a huge sigh once again. What a mess.
That can wait. I am hungry. I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge. Again, sigh.
Nothing in there.
I don't have much money to call for pizza. So i began ravishing the cabinet.
I found a canned sardine. So happy I was, almost knocked myself down to the sink.
Everything went accordingly afterwards. But the knocks still bother me.
I'm hearing the knocks. Again. It's 3 freaking AM. This dude should have some empathy. I have work tomorrow.
Wait. Why am I so sure it is a dude. That's really weird. Probably because of the old man's warning the other day.
I stare at the ceiling. The knocking seems like it won't stop.
I get up onto my feet. Walking pass the disastrous room towards the living room, reaching for the door.
What if there's a killer behind it? I should consider that.
I peek into the peephole. There's a lady. Part of me let out a relieved sigh. She is my sister.
I opened the door. She jumped onto me and starts hugging me like I am some sort of a plush toy.
My sister is crying.
This is bad. There's only one reason that would make my sister comes here late in the night shedding tears.
Her husband is an asshole. I already told her that. Repeatedly.
I ask her what did that man do now.
"He slept with another woman," she sobs.
I don't know how to respond. This is not the first time things like this had happened.
"Do you need a cup of tea?" I moaned inside my head after I said that.
Making tea at this kind of hour would consume a lot of energy. What a stupid question to ask. I should just let her hug me and stay that way.
"No, thanks," I almost let out a good-choice-since-I-am-not-so-
eager-to-make-one to her.
"Can I stay here tonight?"
I almost snap her neck into two. But she's my sister anyway, of course she can spend the night here. It would be rude to chase her out.
"Sure. The guest room is always yours," I don't know whether she read my phrase carefully.
I guess she don't since she hugs me again and again and keep saying 'thank you', 'you're so kind', 'you're my lifesaver' etc.
I don't mind, really. She can weep all she wants. But just don't bother me sleeping.
Like I said, I have work tomorrow.
"Would you mind spending an hour to listen to me?" She asks.
Are you crazy? Of course I would mind. Can't you see how hectic I am right now?
Again, it all happens inside my head.
"Talk me through," I wish I had stabbed myself for saying those words.
And then began a painstaking hours of pretending not to sleep, nodding once in a while, agreeing to whatever she is saying though I'm not really listening. And then it ends.
"Thanks for listening to me," she says. Just like that.
"You should get some rest."
No, I need to rest. Please let me sleep.
"You're always a dear to me," she hugs me before going to bed.
I was walking to my room when suddenly my sister screams.
"Who is this?"
Fuck. I forgot my neighbour is still there.