Out of Season


A warm gust of the wind touched my face, waking me up from hours of my nocturnal sleep. It’s very hard to try in opening my eyes bitterly this morning of the moribund December. I’ve been doing this so proverbial routine for almost a month since our semestral break. I admit, I got no real funny stuff here by staying in our ruggedly built domicile.

It’s quite infuriating sometimes to think of some fun outdoors especially when the most to important possession I have is empty— my wallet. Well, for a month I’ve been trying to be contended in this so much wearisome holiday. Sometimes it rained; sometimes it is like a roasting-desert like season. Every morning, I’m having my two-hours of morning indulgence with the nearly wrecked bed dreaming of my Beautiful One, and watching corny movies presented by the awfully repugnant cable-server.

However, sometimes I tried to amuse myself by playing basketball in front of our house, listening to music with the tape my cousin bought me and fanatic of following the series of the anime shows. Yet, I know that sports and cartoons will never help, it rather cause not only aching migraine and back strains caused by hours of sitting in front of the TV but also the loosing of my sanity in wanting to end these torturous boring days. I can never resist my longing for the return of the comeback of our classes.

Of course I’m not a geek; a student who loves to study and the library is his world. Duh! In fact, I’m the complete opposite. Though I may be seen in libraries sometimes, however, it is one moment in a billion. I only want to see my dearie and of course have fun with my crazy pals.

I’m always seemingly hypnotized for a couple of seconds in front of the old-torn calendar that my wide-mouth grandma is so infuriated in noticing me sitting for long, scolding me fro not helping in the household chores. Honestly, I hate to be disturbed. I’m counting my fingers though none of it was lost, but to count how many melancholic days have passed until I finally get my free allowance.

I’ve already counted twenty-one days to end my torment. And after these tedious pestering holidays turns into a rotten cadaver. I ca boast my new wash jeans to my remote-controlled classmates. Not to mention the easing up of my ever bottled-up longing for the meaning of my iron-built heart. Oh, how I love to caress her lips. If classes will resume, I will then have my daily allotment to purchase food and to pay for my cyber-tripping. Well, it’s quite expensive to be indulged in this avocation, but it is my only scheme to charm myself out from this delirious universe. So I’m ready to take my chances for it.

To be honest, I have to say that I dislike conventional holidays. I dislike the rituals and ceremonies that are all fabricated just to end the delightful schooldays. Eventually, the final upshot is to be thrown out to a place of pure solitude and having, not a single penny to waste. How awfully disgusting!

Sometimes I also like momentary breaks, only if I have with me my best cousins and other crushes. But now that I am banned from using this thimble-witted analog communication device, I feel like screaming; “Hey, it’s not fair!” by the way, I’m not easily impressed with pretentious display of wits and works of people around. For it is for me a simple fragment of their unadulterated arrogance to insult my physical well-being and order to perpetuate themselves. They hypocritically pretend that they’re holy enough to sermon but inside they’re pretty ugly. Okay, I’m maybe out of the topic, but it’s mere by-product of my weirdo world, and as what they assume me to be. Bu mind you, I prefer to be like a monk then to give way to the buffoon that this world caused me.

I do not restraint myself to this recycled paper in writing the verses and incomprehensible essays to describe my look, mood and psyche. Well, I’m soused up after that Alka Seltzer invades my larynx while trying to defeat the obstinate hang-over after the night’s affair with the brew. Smoking too, punches my air sacs as I wasted too much of the cigar-butts and ashes. However, I enjoy it a lot in savoring the mint and the nicotine, that though I know it’s bad because it will blacken my lips, but to relax is my ultimate goal, and it never argue whenever I talked about politics a line by myself.

By puffing this stupefied cancer-causing fellow, it molds my brain to be idle, that made me more artistic in skillfully shaping my alphabet of words. This material is unfriendly tremendously due to my best friend migraine and infinite nocturnal cough just to be finding my place in this phantasm which I desperate to create.

Perhaps, it will be a long time to spend my holiday once again. I’ll wait and write for it. I just don’t care. All I carve is to have an ample time with my babe, or more than that I suppose. The problem is, I still have no concrete idea when it will be. Maybe, it’s better to be back to my room.

December 29, 1999

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