the world needs its dreamers, may we never wake up. — paul weller
Lord, please don’t wake me up. it’s not even about taking the blue or red pill. it’s about taking my own pill, my yellow, sunshiny pill that tastes like sour gummy worms (yum!). thank you for everything. let me do what i really want, and i will be one of your most perverse, sincere, industrious servants.
my work spot is beside a window guarded by an irritating set of blinds. i love peering outside when it’s sunset, or whenever i hear boys shouting crazy stuff to one another. see, what’s below me is a huge field used as parking for toyota cars. some nights, the boys just turn on all headlights, and the cars are beautiful, like lighthouses lying on the ground. just five minutes ago, i saw a black car pulling out of its slot like a reluctant ghost. it was the lone source of light. it gave me a sense of vertigo. yes, i have that, that feeling of succumbing to falling. i’m not kidding, don’t leave me alone on a mountain peak, or a ferris wheel car, or on a ledge overlooking the city (say, antipolo) because i fall for the idea of falling. i am sucked into the heights. i told jaja this tendency exactly when we were inside the ferris wheel car a hundred feet above the ground. i will never forget the look on her face. (jaja, peace.)
our office walls, from orange like a glass of delicious OJ, are now grey.
all the more reason to jump off the ledge.
as an ode: grey office walls, i shoot myself.
: resurrected, i see grey walls, karma.
to fly would be an awfully big adventure