Monthly Archives: April 2015

a time to learn

he’s probably 35, or early 40s? i’m not sure but i know he’s old.

he’s that kind of the old gay tita who wears his hair long, not very long, just long enough to cover all the ears and hang down to cover some of his neck. his hair’s color is bright rust, not blonde but not red, i’m thinking of cheese with a glaze of butter in a donut i think. he wears a yellow polo shirt with a logo of where he works, i didn’t get where or what, it wasn’t big shot company or something. just some workplace. his shirt is tucked in his almost skimpy jeans, the pants my younger sister wears. he has that thin brown fake leather Divisoria belt, the belt my mother wears, to keep it tighter.

we’re on that van, those UV Express from Malinta Exit, we’re sitting in the back (i always sit there for my legs, the seats in front is narrow as a sad matchbox); it’s those seats where people have to face each other. four on the right and four on the left, while everyone else are normal facing the road just like the driver. this sitting arrangement makes me laugh. really! it’s dope if you get it. see, you’re force to face each other but everybody force themselves not to look at each other in the face. it’s rude to look at someone’s face, i’ll go nuts if you’ll stare at me during these travels or anywhere else or anytime, well, unless you’re my sister or my girl or someone i’m crazy about. me and this blonde were sitting face to face back there at the ends of each seats, the part where you’re squeezed like shit to the back door and if you’re lucky, only half your ass will actually get a chance to kiss the seat.

we’re about to alight in SOGO in MRT and he grabbed the door’s knob first. it’s the tricky door knob, i’m fuckin sure. it’s that type of upward opening door that swing like freak. damn, i hate those doors, i think they’re dangerous, i think they’re made to bring catastrophes on earth. i always imagine it’ll hit somebody or freaking kill them stupid or crash a car’s windshield every fucking time it opens. it freaks me out in the guts, makes me feel stupid guilt. get it? i’m sure as hell, i’ll be crushed in the guts if i’ll kill anyone for being stupid.

anyways, he grabbed the knob and twisted it. he twisted it so soft as if it’s a broken dick or something. it didn’t open. he twisted in again. nothing happened. and he twisted it again. and fucking cow, nothing still. he tried again for heaven’s sake and heaven won’t just open the evil door. the door is a kidnapper, really. if i stayed there longer it’ll feel like getting stuck in a lame concert, or with two stupid intelligent show-off talking about race cars or iPhones. finally, he let the knob go, i grabbed it after and just twisted like he did, only a bit harder until i heard that CLICK. you need to twist these fucking knobs strong for the click, the click is the bomb.

i saw him in the corner of my right eye, he was staring at me as i open the dumb door. and damn, it grind my guts when i finally opened the door. i can open it, i know, i have to, but at that moment i wished i can’t or whatever. me, opening the door, made him look like a fucking stupid old gay man. i hate myself, it killed me.

i swear to heaven, if we’re not rushing, if the salesladies and those feel good yuppies with us were not rushing to alight that fucking van, i’ll leave him alone opening that swinging door. i swear i’m true! i’ll leave him alone, i’ll let him figure it out. just him and that damn knob and his rusty yellow hair and polo shirt and shit. i’m all for the “learn-it-by-doing-it” philosophy and all, if you know what i mean. he can do it for ever, he can be stupid and fail and be stupid as long as he need, to make his own mistakes and dumb and stupid twists. i might get mad but i won’t show him i’m mad, i can act sometimes, really i can do that.

he’ll figure it out anyways, it might take fucking longer than elephants figure it out though, but he’ll learn that the knob needs its click eventually. he’ll get that. everybody will get that. but sadly that morning but not a single soul have time to teach anybody any philosophy shit or something, it pains me. nobody have time for learning and stuff. people don’t have time to teach anyone when they desperately need to learn. we do the learning at school, we learn how to open car knobs by watching stupid cartoons, or by sitting and listening to some boring old teacher. we learn things when we don’t need them or when it’s too damn late. drowns my heart, really. he needs learning but he can’t have it, we all fucking do.

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