weird dream, conscious stream
the second the beaten soles of my boots crossed the invisible strings at the front gates keeping me tied to that school, i find it difficult to believe i was ever really there. 4 years? that can't be right. it's been 19 days since. i spent the first week burrowing my burden of a body into the well-loved cushion of my bed. this poor thing — holding me, enveloping me in its endless plushness and comfort — it was as if i was being engulfed by quicksand, surrendering myself to this sluggish, half-remembered sorrow.
i was not functional. barely a boy: just the wisp of an animal, an old dog with ratty ears and flea-bitten fur and moist beady black eyes just begging to be put down. 11 days ago i had 5 cups of coffee, finishing 3 in the span of an hour. i don't know what i was doing. i still don't know what i'm doing at this point. i writhed and tossed in my mockery of sleep, pressing my palms together and feeling the warm throbbing of electricity in my veins. i ran to bathroom at 2 in the morning and cried my eyes red.
i've only had coffee twice since then. even the aroma of it makes my heart twist like an intangible knot digging its own grave. this late afternoon i went to the school for enrollment. i don't know what to feel. i just want to get away from everyone else who knew me before i had the chance to grow into who i am today.
a part of me, naive and kamikaze, still aches for friendship. i want to experience being a normal teenager. i want to commute home and be loud during jeepney rides home with a rowdy group of friends, i want to eat lunch alongside others while keeping a stream of conversation flowing, i want to laugh with someone until our sides become crime scenes. i just want a taste of what everyone else deems 'normal'.
i like being different. i don't like being a freak. since when did different become a synonym of freak, anyways? i might as well embrace it. i know the next 2 school years will be as miserable as the last 4. it's just how people like me goes. but sometimes, i can't help wonder what it would be like.