I met poverty once. He didn't look at me at first.
He looked at my shoes, then moved his eyes to his feet.
He had none.
Then he looked at me in the eyes. No. Not to the eyes but in the eyes and he didn't look confused or confused me. He asked for a seat next to mine.
I refused.
He didn't ask for a seat next to mine.
He simply came closer to my seat and expected an invitation.
I looked at the book I was reading, ignoring him. But poverty was still there. So I moved myself to the right, and let poverty set its body next to mine. And he didn't move for a while.
He was cold.
I could feel it. I had a blanket. I hid it. I didn't want to share it with him. The room filled itself with a nasty odour. I knew it was him. It had to be him. so I looked at the window, continued reading my book, and left poverty sitting next to me. And a couple of minutes later poverty left the train. Only then did I realize that I had untied shoes and the smell that disgusted me hadn't left. For it was not a scent.
Just an idea.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
[EN] Poverty
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Meaningless Story: Part II
"Hey Dan... are you busy right now?"
I waited a couple of seconds to reply. You see, when I said I barely knew Tim I wasn't joking. I didn't even have him under my contact list. I knew Dan though. Everyone knew Dan. Anyways, this dude was crying as he said this so I figured it couldn't be a prank call. Actually, I probably didn't really think about what to say.
"Hey. This is James, not Dan. Who are you?"
His crying turned into a rather funny sobbing. I swear I had to try very hard not to laugh. Seconds passed by. He didn't answer. It was definitively a prank call, I said to myself.
"James... I need to speak to you for a second"
No, no kidding. I thought people called each other to eat sandwiches in front of their telephones.
"Go ahead"
" You see... the thing is... I can't... I can't live with this anymore. I miss her so much. I need her so much."
Oh, here we go again... another guy with love problems. Great. I'll start my own company for this sort of thing. I'll call it teen2teen advice. I'll charge a hefty fee and provide random bored teenagers the trivial-yet-important task of hearing another teen with their love problems. I bet I'd get rich fast.
"Look, I'm sure it hurts but you'll get over it. Now, I am about to start an assignment so I'd apprecia-"
"She was perfect for me Dan, I made sure I was the perfect boyfriend for her too and -"
yup bro. Your listening comprehension skills certainly show the potential for a good listener and better yet, someone who is able to remember stuff. Like, for example, the fact that my name is James, and not Dan.
"look, i'm sure that sucks but you'll get over it soon. Besides, it is possible that -"
"I think there's no more reason for me to be alive Dan. " still sobbing "I just called to let you know that you had been the only friend I ever had and the best one I'll ever get to meet. I just called to say good bye. Please, take care. You are free to keep all my video games."
By now, he had started to cry so loudly that I could barely understand what he was saying. It was not a prank call after all. This guy was just drunk. Or high. Or both. Or he had just finished watching a Korean soap opera.
"Look, things are going to -"
"Just don't miss me."
Then he hung up. Well, big deal. Not the first guy that I have heard saying this sort of thing just after a breakup. I guess the decent thing would be to send a text to Dan, but I have a limited number of those. Besides, I'm sure Dan already knows about this guy's condition. Oh wait. I didn't even ask for his name. Well, I think I did, he just didn't answer. Whatever, back to Youtube.
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Two days later the principal came into our classroom. Our teacher, Miss Lina, was surprised by this, so she tried her best to rearrange her messy desk. The principal ignored the desk, and looked at us.
"Today, I am here for a very short amount of time. One of your classmates, Tim Workey, is dead. The date of his funeral has yet to be decided ..."
Everyone turned around to see Dan. He was crying. And then, only then it hit me.
The guy who had called me was Tim.
Tim Workey talked to me before committing suicide.
[to be continued in part III]
