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B.'s room
Scribbled down on Sunday, 2 October 2005 20:09:57 PM |
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I am down on the floor, writing this in B.'s room while my mom is working out. Reminds me of these annoying exercises they show you in the morning on tv. I always switch channel. I was plaiting my hair or combing it till B. announced he'd be showering so I ran to the laptop to write. Ever since he has this thing I haven't been able to write or log into cutenews succesfully. Probably typing the wrong password. Stupid me. He has this stupid cd playing, 50 cent. He played a few reggae tracks earlier that were more bearable than this album. I am letting the stupid words of 50 cent run down over me so I can write. I donīt want him mad right now. My tummy is getting numb the way I'm lying. I need to sit up straight. This weekend we lived on French fries which I went buying also a few hours ago. I got there at the snackbar and faced the humilation that it was closed. I felt a bit embarrassed and went closer to see on the window when they would open. 4pm. I doubted. What time was it? I angered because I didn't wear a watch for months now as it broke and nor did I carry my mobile with me as no one called me anymore. I thought about waiting awhile then, untill it would open and turned to walk away to find a place to sit, when I heard a voice calling me. I am a lucky devil. He decided to open earlier because of the nice weather (it didnīt last long, it rained later). Or else I wouldīve waited an hour. I was nervous for being the first customer. He is a sweet guy I always title as īuī. He was trying to have a conversation with me and I tried to be open but I really canīt talk. He said there was this thing out there in town, a sort of activity which attracted many people. It made sense. When I left the house I felt a silence like everyone disappeared from this neighbourhood or the stilness you hear after a how town was slaughtered. Aside of a car passing by, there wasnīt any other noise. All I could reply was; 'really?'. He made me nervous. I suck at talking to nice guys. I got home and closed the portal door of this building when a guy or a man, yes... heīs a man, came in with a bike. In other circumstances I wouldīve opened the door for anyone who had stuff with them and had to seek their keys in the bottom of their bag or sack. I didnīt. I donīt know why I didnīt. Perhaps because I didnīt know this guy or man shared this building with us. I greeted him and felt a heat rising at the top of my head. The elevator door went open and he let me enter first. I felt so paranoid having someone so close to me in this small space (being claustrophobic here?). I kept glaring at the display to see when we would arrive at his ground. He lived on the third ground, I lived upstairs on the fourth. He was a new face, I hadnīt seen him before. He told me too about the activity they had in town and wondered if I was going, I replied īI donīt do these thingsī. I didnīt mean to let that sound rude! Did it? When he got to his destination, we said goodbye. He wished me a nice day and I continued ascending and heard myself saying... īheīs hotī. Yes, Iīm nuts and I donīt say such stuff in general. If I like someone a lot, I say heīs beautiful. Maybe I was attracted to him physically. If I wasnīt so polite, I wouldīve taken a bit advantage of the fact we were alone, to ask him what his name was or if he was married. Or.. if there was some space in his bed. I donīt mean that. Just exaggerating, am I.. I am.. not. I liked his long locks dancing on his back with grey highlights that showed me he was maybe in his thirties or fourties. Still I liked him... I hope we see each other again. (We did, only I was not longer interested: updated 7th October 2005) Ah, when he left I realised he was shorter than me! If he was tall, I wouldīve felt intimidated. How weird that I didnīt notice that he was small in the elevator. I live in this building for six years and I didnīt know everyone who lived here. In total I didnīt know all the 35 owners of the appartments in this building. Thatīs sad. |