saturday dinner aftertaste
dinner time was impending. i didn't want to go. maybe i felt a little tired and sick, but the real reason was that deep in my heart i didn't want anyone to see the other side of me, that i believe i was a hero of sorts, only invulnerable to the relentless beatings served and pitter patter of rain. the lesser of me didn't measure up remotely. one hour later, 1pm, ill had overcome a manboy into a restless and tired wreck, plummetted him deep into an immature state of mind. oh oh, fuck. there comes the guilt train, the people who gave me life, thinking all about the best for me, not knowing that their gigantic hands are doing nothing except abusing an insignificant brat's world. you should do this and that, not do this and that, yea its all rules and regulations they dont even subscribe to or care about. does handling myself in the future be affected by whether or not im the rigid framework of their liking? not really. its all just crazy talk but since i love them, i can ignore everything but dinner? no way im doing that. not for all the crazy talk in the world. she walked into the room, stern and piercing, ready to make me board the guilt train. after all, i don't have a ticket yet. boy, go for the dinner. its your responsibility as an adult to make dad/uncle/aunt/cousin happy. being there when im sick, and unhappy only means a malicious contagion ma! stop that crazy talk boy, its not about you. yea i wish it wasn't. a left! and a right! and a bruised face and she stormed out, perhaps angry that i didn't take in her crazy talk and made it my own. my lovely ma, whitened with age, still so lively. i'd rather a bruised face than a sigh and a walk out the door anytime. maybe a little sadness settled in but its fine, they wouldnt have it any other way and i wouldn't push the envelope anyways by saying she's a cranky old woman when she's not. 5pm, time was the same, staring at me as if i had answers about the world, i wished i did. music turned up, curtains down, ear plugs and a locked door and in closed eyes, the moon ascended into the canvas of sky like a fast forward dvd. 8pm, i sneaked a look into whatever night sky clasped between the slits of the curtains. it was dark enough to eat something and go back to lalaland as a friend once said. from permanent darkness to walking into the light of the living room, in strained eyes i see bowls of food, delicious as they are healthy, porridge, meat, vegetables, soup and gravy. i sat down and ate everything, but when they touched my mouth it all turned into sand. my hands held my throat as it was drained of moist, only dryness and dehydrated lips and memories just came washing back. that night in full vividness, a smile, teary eyes with hope and a missed chance. in moments, i feel like im swimming in quick sand, everything was parched and drained and i was one of them. tears in my eyes only soaked into the sand, forgotten.