LALAKI

Anal Expulsive

June 5, 2019
6:35 AM
"JAVIERTO RESIDENCE"

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Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up, you stupid piece of shit.

Just as before God made the universe, there was darkness. A whole lot of it, which is what is in front of me or better yet, the only thing I'm seeing. I opened my eyes and I felt the light burning my temples whilst blinding my eyes. A deep throbbing psychotic pain knocks onto my forehead and I smell something rotting mercilessly, a kind of pungent chemical and intestinal scent, only to realize it was coming from my mouth. I haven't brushed. I squinted and rubbed my eyes for my vision was out of focus and blurry.

I am re-entering Earth's atmosphere.
I am back on planet Earth.
I am no longer in space.
I am no longer adrift.
I am back.

Then it all came to me within a flash. In front of me was disorder. Towering filth, garbage, and litter. All of my vices and shame one by one. But it doesn't matter, I don't care. This is what I'm going to do. This is what's going to happen.

Have some breakfast.
Brush your teeth.
Have a shower.
Clothes.
Print your printed apology letter for physically assaulting your boss.
Buy something nice for tonight's writer's expo.
And laugh with sir JD, Heather, and everyone and watch all of this to blow over.

Okay. Step one.
Breakfast.

I stood up from my bed, occasionally stumbling from the 1.5 Litre plastic bottles of Coke Lite, Boxes of Greenwich, boxes from Chowking, empty cans of Lays, bags of chips half eaten and eaten, and peanut butter spread cans. I stood outside the living room which was more decent than my bedroom.

There weren't a lot of pizza boxes. But my DVD collection was scattered with some paperbacks, McDonald's paper bags, and some fresh clothes from the laundry that I haven't gotten to fold yet, which I should, but that will come later. I ran to my kitchen and threw all the unwashed plates, frying pans, bottles, and cans on the sink to prepare myself for a healthy nutritious breakfast that I hopefully wouldn't puke my lungs out later-

I ate a pack of Oreos.

What the fuck.
I said breakfast.
Not depression porn food.
That's a lot of sugar.
Stand up.
You're overweight.
That's a lot of calories.
You don't deserve that.
We need to starve.
I need to starve.
Do you want to be fatter?

You're right. You're right. I should eat something better. With the right amount of protein, carbs, and vitamins. A childhood breakfast. Eggs and chorizo, and a slice of orange. I need fruits. I need a good amount of carbs. I need to eat somewhere small and maybe jog for a while. This is it. This is what's going to happen, we change our lives step by step. Progress is non-linear. Change starts now, it doesn't matter. We can always try. From this point on I will eat healthy and no more unhealthy binges and-

I ate both lunch and breakfast at McDonald's. I had 3 Egg McMuffins, 2 Egg Cheese pandesal, and 2 breakfast platters. For lunch, I had 3 Big Macs 2 orders of a McChiken Rice meal with 3 McFloats, and a large Sprite.

This wasn't so bad, right?
I mean, I didn't eat a lot.
It's not much compared to what I had before.
It's a start, I can't immediately rid myself of my eating habits.
Some people have it worse than me.
I shouldn't be overthinking this.
This is food.
Food is important.
Right?

No.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

You blew it up.
You ruined it all.

Okay get the fuck up, stand up from your table. Get out. It's time to print that apology letter. Okay. Okay. Okay.

As I went outside, nothing good greeted me, only the thoughts for this day to be over, there was no moment of peace or laughter. There is only a commitment and focus to the problem; get it done, kiss it goodbye, and sayonara. You wait for the bomb to blow up under the table, you wait for the foreseeable rising action. With every step I took, my foot felt heavier, felt heavier than the concrete, and my legs burrowed with listless excitement that didn't seem to end. I'm like a puppet without strings or a gun with no safety. I lay there, waiting without any sort of control or any form of trigger to shoot lead incessantly.

Eventually, I found an internet shop somewhere around a nearby hotel and school. I got the letter printed there and I decided to immediately head out because I didn't like the smell of the place and the look I was getting from kids who were huddling together on playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.
With that out of the window, I immediately headed home and decided on what to wear. I decided to wear something formal but not too classy because you can never be too sure.

As of the moment, I'm technically fired but also employed at the same time. Now, Matt. What the fuck does that mean? Well here's the thing, if Sir JD accepts my apology letter then everything will be good and snappy, but I will be presented with a problem, a problem that is the fact that I am badly dressed and unprepared; and nobody wants that. Now if Sir JD, rejects my apology letter, that means I have no right to be at the Media Writer's Expo and I'm too overdressed. So to balance both of the outcomes of my ridiculous plan of apologizing for physically assaulting my boss through a computer-typed letter-I have to look both presentable and unemployed at the same time. I need to look good but not too good. I need to look poor, but not too poor with a decent amount of rich. So that's the plan.

I decided to wear a black office blazer with a white polo shirt and some jeans, I decided to wear a black beanie as well because why not my head feels cold. I stepped outside and booked a cab. The drive on the way to Azuela Cove wasn't pleasant either, because when your entire heart is in your stomach the only thing that is currently lodged in your head is the ordeal.

You want it over with, you want it done, and you want it gone; especially if you're hurt. When you're hurt, you don't ever want to be hurt again, some call it a defense mechanism like avoidance and projection. I think it's just human nature. You're hurt you find ways not to be again, and you adapt. But it seems this clusterfuck of a situation, won't be going away anytime. Eventually, after what felt like ages, I arrived at the entrance of the Azuela Cove.