It was raining last night, and I found myself stuck at Katipunan waiting the torrent out. There was nothing more I could do but to buy myself a “couple of beers” at a joint across the road from the Ateneo. “Couple of beers” is relative to what you drink, and if you have sound skills in mathematics. To me, it’s six bottles of San Miguel Pale Pilsen and a couple of bottles of Red Horse.
No, I didn’t get drunk. I was still able to make my way back home in a completely sober state. This is the third time in three months that my attempt to get completely wasted completely backfired on me.
Many of my friends are quite concerned that I’m starting to develop an unhealthy propensity towards “assisted suicide.” My life has reached that point of equilibrium, and I don’t like it. My mom is concerned that I may be pushing myself too far and almost over the edge with how many hours I put in, and how I actually have to text her on weekends asking her for things to do. I don’t want to take to more downward spirals just because I drink an entire bucket of beer on my own, and chain-smoke on top of that.
I’m not emo: I don’t soul-search. It’s just neurosis setting in. Maybe psychosis. Paranoia: I feel like I’m being followed, watched, tracked down. Whatever: it’s not like it’s affecting the normalcy of my life.
Maybe that’s just it: my life is too normal. I commute, I work, I commute, I sleep, and then do everything else all over again.
* – from Live, “Lightning Crashes”