Ah, perhaps it's just one of those days. (Part 1)

Ah, perhaps it's just one of those days. (Part 1)




It is raining. My laptop is on. I had my dinner at home. There's a cup the table. The hot coffee brewed in minutes. My cats meowing - wanted to get fed. Lightning. Flashes of light, everywhere. Lots of them. Then it was in total silence. No frog's croaking. Crickets are yet to come out and sing. Only the sounds of dripping raindrops - or at least the last bit of it all this time around. A cigarette is lit.









I am alone.










My eyes stopped blinking and i gazed. So far, it gets me in a trance, figuratively. Then, i was in the ignorant mood. The cats wants a refill. I am still holding a spoonful of course sugar in my hand, yet to poured in the cup of hot coffee. Mimi, she purred and held my leg. She got me back to reality. Then the mixture completed. Oh, and the particular song have been repeated for god knows how many times. It's just me, listening to the same old song over and over again. It's a song about life, the one that my father used to sing to me when i was little. He's gone now. All i am left with are memories.



Sat back on the chair.



The phones rang too many times already, and somehow i just don't bother to check upon it. I know some friends are worried. Some are pretty worried. I know that fact well, because all i get so far as responses are words of, how do i say this - Angst. I never would have expected it. I just throw out 3 simple words, so i get 300 words back. To that extent, i am truly sorry, people. My life gets too narrative, sometimes.


Still...


I looked on my palms. I see lines. I remembered what a few people told me before, that i have a nice palm. A soft pair of those, too. I was told to share. They said i should hold those people you really cared about with those palms, better yet, hold the face of someone u truly have heart for.

They were very suggestive. I were reluctant, to say the least. I had never thought of doing so, precisely during the conversation dated back to 4 years ago. I was so young, i don't even know what that means. I reminisced.




Dated present.



Sipped on the coffee. Thick and black. My favorite drink equally matched my description. I was a green boy. I turned black in an instant. That day - i would not dare to remember. So, i shut my eyes for a while. My anger starts to shroud me. It came so suddenly - no warning sign. Some might already know about this. Others - they just thought i was just rebellious. In a sense, they aren't that mistaken. I lived a happy life for 20 years. After that, well, the picture get clearer and clearer each passing day.

I remembered Sensei Omar. The one person that cools me down when it hits. He is not around anymore. Died at the age of 71. May he rest in peace. I still carry on with his teachings. I never thought a "shiko-dachi" could have helped me. It's no meditation of sort, it is just keeping my heartbeat leveled. My asthma was cured because of these.



Lightning again. My eyelids are well opened now. My rate of breath is slowly gain normal patterns again. The phone rang again. I hesitated. No. I needed to be at peace. They would understand why i did not pick up the call. My laptop is still on. The cursor had blinked, untouched on the same spot for thousands of times already. Oh, i haven't typed in anything yet. My thoughts are working on that for me. I sighed a long sigh. It's not relieving, but it would help.



There i was again. "I just need a shoulder", i whisper. I asked again "...but, how?...and where"

There. My hasty heart whispers again.


So, i reached out for another stick - only this time it went unlit until a few passing minutes. My eyes stopped on my wallet, in my pouch. I grabbed a photo out of it. There. A familiar face. My mom's. The cigarette were not puffed. My eyes started to get rather teary. I know, i've seen my mom the last couple of days, but i missed her already. I am just as sensitive. So, my mood swing is back, for the reasons i cannot yet understand. I am infuriated. Mom's photo is in the wallet again. Pulled out another photo - of a person i used to love - then quickly put it in again. I can't bear to see the photo any longer, not for a few more seconds. It tends to hurt a bit.



The phone rang again. My personal phone. A familiar ring tone was heard. It was mom. The first sentence she said was a question. "Son, are you okay?"



Every time she used the word "son", i tend to be speechless. It is because of a word, that i truly understand what it means. It needs no elaborations what so ever, other that the word "love". Yeah, love is always the element in disguise.


"Ma, i am fine". A terribly shaky voice i had to reply with. She knows that i am not. She had to giggle a little, knowing that i was lying. From my childhood, i was a terrible liar. I can't even hide a thing without getting trembled. So i giggled a little, too.



(End of part 1)