another weekend of absolute desperation. heartbroken and crazy I lived through saturday night in agony. it all started with the coffee at bouchon at six o’clock in the afternoon; then I made my way down the hill. I wrote and filled my notebook with words; page after page, trying to remind myself of my existential purpose. I lost it somewhere a while ago. I didn’t expect him to come my way, and yet he did. I was starving. I keep forgetting to eat, drink water. I keep forgetting. rat alley was the same as always. the indian elvis presley wore yellow jeans and laughed aloud. I searched the crowd for his hair; elvis pointed in some direction. he’s waiting for you inside. a hot bowl of chicken pho, beef rice paper rolls, fried chicken. we ate too much and walked up the hill with full, happy tummies. but I knew the explosion was coming and he knew, too. he’d already braced himself for it and just waited. because the only thing he can do for me is just to be there. hold me through it and hope I will come back the same person.
two blue long islands and three shots later it all came out. the pain, the misery, everything. it always comes down to last summer, to that one night in prague when I lost the faith in humanity; left it somewhere in between the pavement cracks in skalka. I poured my soul out to him. the guitraist just watched from a far, because he’d been there before, but said nothing. these stories are not for him to hear anymore. by the time I fell into my bed, it was too late for anything. the sun was going to come up soon and everything else had to wait. when I finally came back to senses, I was smiling. it surprised me that I am still alive. sometimes it really does. but it wasn’t over yet. all hell broke loose a couple of hours after. that part always comes and it’s never late. but how do I explain something that I myself do not fully understand? all I know is that I am not always responsible for my feelings, for my state of mind. it’s like trying to remember someone I’ve never met. on the tip of my tongue, but the words never come through.
this fucking drama all the time. one day at a time. I am incapable of doing more than that. I ran away for the evening. I took a bus from mong kok all the way to tuen mun. because what else could I do. I thought of nicole; the whole story is so familiar to me, it’s scary. pops waited for me at the last bus station. he saw me walking to towards him, lifeless. without even saying a word he just hugged me for what seemed like a very long time. he handed me a helmet and motioned for me to sit behind him. those five minutes on the motorbike, flying with the wind, lifted all the pain and worries off me. I didn’t expect to feel that elated, that easily. that’s all it took. the second my feet touched the ground, everything came back down on me like a ton of bricks. the boy felt something was terribly wrong, but knew better than to ask. he stayed near me the whole time, watching me cautiously. I wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or just incredibly grateful. later as we walked back to the main road, I tried to push away my tears. but they came anyway. no matter how much I don’t want it to, everything comes anyway.
I feel like I’ve aged by ten years in the last three days.