LALAKI

EGO

"Hell and destruction
are never full;
so the eyes of man
are never satisfied."

- Proverbs 27:20

June 1st, 2019
9:15 PM
"INSIDE THE MIND OF ONE MATTHEW JAVIERTO."

-------------------------------------------------------------

My thoughts are misguided.

Just write a note.

Okay? A simple note. Just write "Your hair looks nice." that's it no name, no number, or anything. Just a compliment. That's it. Nothing else. Is my hair okay? No, I'm balding, my hairline is receding. Oh god, stop sweating. I can't stop sweating. I think I should work out. I am fat and repulsive. I think I should start walking. No, I should start jogging every 4 am. I need to lose weight, wait is my hair getting in the way? No, my chin feels stubby. I need to shave. I need to shower. I need to eat less. I am fat and repulsive. I am fat and repulsive. I am fat and repulsive. I need to work out more. My voice sounds weird. My hair is thinning. Is she still there? I think she's staring. She knows im staring. I shouldn't stare. I should focus on my phone. Quickly turn on your phone. Scroll down pretend to look at something. Don't look at her. Look at your phone. Okay. Okay. She's not staring. She's occupied on her phone now. Don't do anything. Just grab your bag and write on a piece of paper. That her hair looks nice. It just looks nice. It's nothing else; it looks nice. No fun number or Facebook profile. Just a compliment with no intentions. Women like that, wait no that sounds stereotypical people like that. I like compliments. When was the last time I got a compliment? Maybe five years ago from an old lady or that gay guy that I passed down the bar; was that sexual harassment? I should report it. Wait no no no, come on. Focus on the note and give it to the lady. Okay. Okay. Okay. Your hair looks nice. Wait I think I should add really; I think your hair is nice. Wait no that's redundant. Your hair is fine. No, I shouldn't just use fine that sounds underwhelming she won't like that. Wait how do you know what she doesn't like? I mean it's pretty strange after all just getting a random note from a stranger you have never met in your entire life to simply just tell you your hair looks nice. Who does that? That's stupid. I shouldn't. I just couldn't. I don't have to. What am I trying to aim or achieve towards this? I mean why flirt if you don't have any means? Why am I doing this." Of all the timing, why does it have to be inside of a jeep? I am commuting home. It is my day off. I should feel relaxed and at ease. Why am I losing my mind over someone I just saw? Is she still staring? I think she knows. She does know. Oh god. What do I do? I think im lost. I blew it. I should've just behaved. No. I'm going to do it. The note is in my hand. I'm going to give it by the time I arrive home. I'm only 3 minutes away from Dacügotta Village. Quick quick make up your damn mind. I'm so pathetic. My thoughts are flowing. I am drowning. Dread. Dread. Dread. I am speaking in my own mind. Internal panic. Internal panic. Why do I do this? Do I want her? Do I aim for something in return? Do I want to impress her? Why do I have to let her know that she has nice hair? How can I be genuine? Don't I have some ulterior motive? Will what I say to make her happy? Do I want to make her happy? Why am I being kind? Why do I want to say it? I don't want to sleep with her. I don't have any interest or sexual deviance towards her. I just feel. I feel compelled to say something. Do I give it before I go down? No, I don't I think I should give it in advance. No. No. No. That would make it more awkward because that would mean she has to stare and look at me, and respond to my compliment. She will look at me. She will look at my hairline. She'll see me sweating. She'll probably think "Never in a million years will I make love to this guy" Wait no why should I be affected? That's not the point. I don't want to sleep with her right? I have no motives, right? Why do I want to think she won't have sex with me? Isn't that irrelevant? Why? I'm not a sex-crazed freak. I don't want to fuck everyone I meet. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. I'm close. But not enough. Is she looking at me?

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OHOH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OHOH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OHOH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD GOD OH GOD GOD OH GOD GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD
OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OHOH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OHOH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OHOH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD GOD OH GOD GOD OH GOD GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD

I'm home, the Jeep is passing by my home. I'm way past home. I didn't notice. I don't mind walking. I need to think. I'm dying inside because I don't have time to think. I think I might be stupid. Maybe not. Maybe I'm mentally disabled. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. Goddamn, the fucking note is sweating. It's wet in sweat. I have to do something. I have to do something I have to do something.

"LUGAR LANG!"

Okay. Okay. Okay just give the paper Matt. Just give the paper and run. I am standing up from my seat. I am breathing. I am alive. I am here. I am here. I am walking past two people. An old man wearing a cap backward and holding a red cellophane bag filled with fruits. A college student from Davao Doctor's College listening to her phone. And there she is. She's there. Black hair. Wolf cut, she's wearing a black mask. She's wearing her headphones. She's wearing a black mesh top and dark green pants. She's looking at me. She's staring at me. I know what she's thinking. I shouldn't know. There are things best left unknown. She looks at me in horror. As I hold something in my hand and place it on her palm.

"HI! I THINK YOUR HAIR REALLY LOOKS NICE!"

GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OU TGET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT
GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OU TGET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT

I got outside. I got outside. I got outside. I look back at the Jeep as it moves. She's reading it. I don't look back. Don't look back no. Don't you dare fucking look back? No. No. No. No. No. I looked back.

The jeep was gone.

I look back and it was gone. It was just me and my thoughts. Alone. This may or may be the creepiest thing I've ever done or the most confident thing I've done depending on her reaction, but I don't care anymore. I did what I wanted to do. I breathe out my frustrations, my worries, and my endless dread. I can't help but laugh over this stupid thing. Everything about it was just silly and stupid. I don't know how to describe it. It was like a gamble, a rush to fool's gold. My reward was something I'll never know. It may be fake; it may give either satisfaction or discomfort. I don't know. I am at a loss for words. I don't fucking know. Maybe that's just fine. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm home.

2 minutes from now I'll be at my door step and take off my shoes, my pants, and my jacket. Fifteen minutes later I'll be crying at the shower. 30 minutes after that I'll be eating something good. Then 40 minutes after that I'm going to sleep. It's just funny. The World is back to normal. Nothing's changed. I will and always feel this lonely. But, it's not pathetic; to say the least. I have a house, a stable job, and I have money. My last girlfriend was practically 3 years ago. I mean I can always get one, it's not like I struggle. Right? I don't know. I don't know. I always say I don't know; it's looping in my head. That's all I can think of saying right now. I don't know Matt. I don't know. Can you tell? I don't know. I'm walking to my house now. Floors. Cement. Moss. Small subdivision, neighborhood. Canals. Convenience store. To the left. More houses. Cars. Children. And dogshit. People. More bullshit. Lamp posts flickering. Scent of onions. Frying pan. My shoes walking. It's night time. What do I do? What should I eat? What should I feel? What should I dream? Maybe something nice. Maybe something good. Maybe something less real. I don't know. God. I sound pretentious. I am nothing without my pretentiousness. I'm so abstract. I don't know. Am I a genius? I'd like to think I am. Oh well.

Crap.

I think I stepped on dogshit.