I feel like a man who suddenly laughed too loudly in a room full of people, causing everyone to fall silent. That deafening, crushing silence strangled me, and now my eyes are darting from the horrible stern faces to the doorway, seriously considering to run for my life.
Maybe I laughed too hard, got overjoyed shamelessly. It’s like, for a long, long time, I was trying to find my way to the Gingerbread House, and when I finally got there, that old witch cooked me with overflowing glee. She was waiting for me all this time, peering from the jelly-coated window.
I want to throw myself a huge house party. I’ve never been in one before, except kids’ birthday parties. But no, that’s not the kind I’m drooling over now. I want a house party that’s kind of like those cool high school parties in teenage Hollywood films. People who I barely know will be drowning in beer, topless girls will be dancing over tables, couples high with booze will be going all the way in every corner of the room. And I’ll lose myself in that noisy crowd, shut myself inside the bathroom, puking my guts out.
See, it’s not fair — or is it? I’ve got to feel this one last time. I want all the laughter and smiles in the world to be squeezed into a red-hot, glowing ball and I’ll swallow it and burst into a gazillion pieces of debris, some of my bloody parts hitting interested people in the face. And then I’ll die and everyone can finally have their laugh. A swarm of flies will come from miles away from every direction just to feed on my brains and lay eggs on my eyes.
You should know by now that I’m speaking in metaphors. Well, there’s no other way to go about it. This feeling is too big for plain old prose.
I can only admit that I was defeated. Someone, some freakin’ genius won a very important battle in this war, leaving me crying like a brat on my blog. I’m not pointing fingers at anyone though. This huge pile of crap partly came from my own ass. That’s a fact. But the real question is what to do now that this stinkin’ blob of shit is sticking to the soles of my shoes.
There are people clinging to me. This defeat is symbolic, which makes it huge. Whatever happened to the greatness that is myself? Where have all my superpowers gone? Some nasty business in faraway shores sucked all my mutant abilities and now I’m just a normal, boring guy. I’m technically trash.
How I wish I can prevent her from looking anywhere else. I’m here. I’m still here. A pile of papers with my name and signature on it gets thrown into a garbage can but I’m still here. I wish I could perform something funny in front of her to make her see that I am still interesting. All the wit is still inside my thick skull, believe me. I’ve still got some plans. How I wish she’d continue to miss me as I am missing her right now.
But it’s Friday the 13th a while ago, so that probably explains everything. Everything is supposed to go loony on such a day. If I’m proud of anything within the few couple of hours that passed, it’s that this blog entry didn’t sound at all emo. No, this blog entry is like the sniggers after a powerful laughter.
I’m still dazed now. I’m writing uncontrollably someone stop measdklgn;askdgnljha b,m gf;askugfigaosicd asdkfnpasidjbfovgomsdf’hpogk]