BY: JUSEPH ELAS
(written on the 23rd of Novemeber, year 2013)
I have options, of course. If I decide to choose the point where the line is set on me facing the consequences of the wrong thing I have done, I’m dead. If I decided to choose the point where I will turn my back and temporarily unclaim responsibility, still dead.
In a highway of jammed cars, I am trapped. In a land of twisted maze, I’m trapped. In a situation where the solutions seem to give birth to more problems, I am trapped.
Perched at a bench below a nearly dilapidated lamp-post, I see people pass by me and I can’t help but to think how lucky they are not to be minding the kind of predicament I have.
Three teenage girls passed by, giggling, talking about something to buy. A few seconds passed then a middle-aged man in brown shirt, gray shorts, and orange cap passed by with a trace of smile across his face. Few steps to my left, there’s a man sweeping the pathway off with dried leaves that had fallen from the trees and plants around.
How come such misfortune happened to me? Why me and not any of those girls who passed by? Not to that man in orange cap? Why not the man sweeping the pathway?
I’m mad because fate brought me to this page of the chapter and thinking of it makes me angry; it makes the blood in my veins stream faster, hotter, and it consumes energy. And since it consumes amount of energy, it makes my stomach rumble. But I can’t force myself to regret the decision I made that brought me here below this old lamp-post.
The sun is setting at the western horizon and my Blackberry’s network provider is turned off. I don’t want anybody to know where I am; them looking for me when things seem not to make sense is the last thing I want. And if anyone wants to be aware of what I’m going through right now, I think it’s wise for them to check my most recent status update on Facebook.
For now, I prefer to be lost and away from my supposed house that has the ability to be a prisoner’s entrapment camp; I’d rather not face an inquest proceeding where lambasting me would be the only agenda. At least, I won’t have to make any forced unnecessary compromise I know I might not be able to comply.
The clock reads 4:38 P.M.
My friends, hours from now, they’ll have to decide whether to go or not, moments from now, they’ll start contacting me.
But they will never reach me.
My Blackberry’s network provider is turned off. That’s the beauty of this smartphone – you can turn the network provider off without the need of turning the handset off.
Me and my friends are to go on a trip tomorrow but due to the state of the things, I think I have to back out…without me telling them because I don’t feel like explaining myself.
It would sting though, after tomorrow once photos of them are uploaded on Facebook; photos of them without me. That is if I will change my mind and decide to go home – of which I haven’t decided yet. Again, I still can’t bring myself to make that decision.
The sun is setting steeper in the western horizon and a patch of it touches the back of my neck, its heat burning my flesh but I couldn’t careless. Maybe problems like this would freeze your senses, maybe it can paralyze you from inside-out. In a way I’m glad it works that way because it paves an avenue for me to think of better actions.
I though of having some walk and explore the place but it would be meaningless; a thoughtless purpose. Soon, the nearly dilapidated lamp-post will flicker to life, I guess I want to be here when that happens.
As the day draws to a close, the place is starting to be swarmed by people. The number has doubled compared to the number earlier.
I sigh at the vista of these people who seem to be in a fine state, thinking of no big problem.
A streak of cold air brushed through my cheeks and it felt good. I wish I feel good today, I thought. I wish it took my problems away with it.
I fetch for my Blackberry and decided to turn the mobile network on for a while. A message comes in but I decided not to mind it. I throw it back in my bag where it landed with a thud.