Quarantine: Love From Home

QLFH: 07

Wednesday, June 2021
Messenger
8:16PM

Jeremiah:
You staring at the mirror again? You are far from handsome.

Honesty is the best policy.

Eisenhoward:
Bored and tired, huh? I must've kept on running around your mind.

Jeremiah:
Scumbag. My godfather Tequila knows that I thirst for strong knockout beverages right now. I could taste my death on this long table filled with child hats, superhero cakes, and pastel confettis. My eyes are starting to sore as hell.

Eisenhoward:
Take it as an advantage. Pack your luggage and dance to the club just as what you casually do.

Jeremiah:
No, I'd already done the confession with our family priest last month. Gonna change my life for the better and go to church.

Eisenhoward:
Yeah, and watch porn before sleeping at night. We are fooling ourselves here, aren't we?

Jeremiah:
Fuck you, Eisen.

Eisenhoward:
Sorry, it is on the basis of first come, first serve. Your name was not listed. Come again next time?

Jeremiah:
You idiots should really come in the countryside penthouse soon. Dorothy might burst her dramatical monologue and hysterics if our block section is incomplete again.

Eisenhoward:
I thought the goal has been settled. Have you not finished the plan yet?

Jeremiah:
Lol. Where have you been lately? The outline for the farewell party was removed by our leading committee. For the second time.

Eisenhoward:
How would I discover it out? The anger issue of Dorothy is on the highest boiling point. Her patience is beyond the average body temperature everytime we meet. She often raises her brows like an abnormal pirate.

Jeremiah:
You owe her an apology for your mistake, don't you?

Eisenhoward:
A traumatic memory that she can no longer forget because it was the plot twist of her graduation.

The only alumni who was forced to wear my loose toga after our movable wardrobes were switched in place.

Jeremiah:
You are indeed a well-privilege king for gaining such bucketlist. You deserve crown made of thorns.

Eisenhoward:
Mission accomplished.

Jeremiah:
I suggest you should alter the hiatus condition of your facebook account. People may hint your inactive status as another sadboy phase.

Feed your timeline with memes. You only live once, dude. Your profile picture still looks like a biodegradable trash.

Eisenhoward:
I appreciate your motherfucking compliment, Saint Jeremiah.

Jeremiah:
An important reminder, teen spirit. The mischievous serpentine is anticipating for our virtual presence after dinner. We should abide by her whims about the planning stage, Eisen.

My sixth sense might be choked again with her venomous words and piercing voice again.

I don't have any woman to make an antidote for me.

Eisenhoward:
Dorothy is an amateur calf in terms of platonic relationship. But who knows you can tame her fire by stealing hot and spicy reconciliation on live screen? Just be conscientious, keep calm, and listen to her whenever she seriously plots something during the short meeting.

She does not take jokes for fun. Your sudden humor can certainly lead you to death. Zero survival rate.

Jeremiah:
You are acting like an expert philosopher.

May it be our leader or not, I decline to follow orders from demanding people who care less about proper boundaries. It is not my moral responsibility to profuse irrelevant adjustments for them while depriving myself from the self-respect that they can never pay back when I needed it.

Scratch the old tradition of understanding insensitive people, not everyone can handle the tolerance of losing their peace of mind. Mental health matters, and I will protect mine at all cost.

Eisenhoward:
Fuck, I hate poetic shit.

Jeremiah:
Moron. You were the one who propelled first some advices that I should apply when talking to our boss Dorothy the dragon. I just shared my wisdom.

Eisenhoward:
We sounded like motherfuckers with tragic marriage lives. Let the wicked dragon and our other blockmates do their own thing, instead.

Hang on and give me updates before midnight.

Jeremiah:
Nah, better be prepared. I might do an enchanting wedding proposal to your brother soon.

Eisenhoward:
Fuck you and your bean-sized hotdog, Zerphenon Jeremiah Hamilton.

Jeremiah:
Hey, can you just join the meeting for awhile? I find it complicated to deal with our conceited and boorish block mates. I look like a stupid hard-boiled egg with speaking disability because their conversations are too dull to grasp.

I wonder how we successfully graduated altogether from our dehydrating course. I can hardly remember the times that we were closely united and bonded with one another throughout the consecutive suicidal semesters. Not even once I tried to secretly cheat in our major subjects in Accountancy because y'll merciless nocturnals always work under scathing pressure without any single complain.

Eisenhoward:
Your intelligent quotient may be defected. Do you want me to help you in buying an artificial brain online? 

Jeremiah:
Arrogant punk. I hope your sausage gets vaccinated, too.

Encode your name on our attendance sheet later before entering the Zoom link.

Eisenhoward:
No need. Dorothy kicked me out of our groupchat last few weeks ago.

I accidentally placed a clown filter on her face while she was excited in discussing about our plan for the upcoming farewell party. The background of our Zoom meeting changed into a circus with horror theme as well. Everyone went fucking quiet for almost half an hour, and I thought it was the demise of my life. It was exactly the first time she had ghosted and postponed our meeting.

The next thing I knew in the following day, my dog-filtered face spreaded across the facebook pages of Animal Adoption Homes.

Jeremiah:
Bold of her to assume that Eisenhoward can be a cross breed pet. Although I admit, you are qualified for it.

Eisenhoward:
Hell. I do not eat bones. But I can make babies.