DESTINATION

VELVET

"Crossed out faces, muted voices

cyclic phases, same old choices

Nothing but a man of regret

in dire need of velvet"

-100518

The problem with me is that, sometimes I'm a nice guy, and most of the time I'm a scumbag these days. Thankfully, the nice guy part of me came out just before I got out of the train. I met two of the customers around the station, and it made me smile to see them excited and happy with the cards that we made for them. Seeing people happy never fails to make me smile. I waved goodbye to them, and hopped on the other side of the train and went back home.

It's really sad that I can be happy and smile for a moment, but when I'm back alone, I return to this empty zone. What's hard about this is that, by the time I'm inside the train, I just don't feel anything at all. Maybe because of the hangover, or maybe I'm just really empty. To make most of my time, I usually glimpse at the other passengers and somehow try and understand their story. I really feel like everyone has a story they want to scream and shout, but they just can't get the opportunity to do so. I saw this guy standing near the exit doors, holding a bouquet, as sweat flows all over his face. This guy maybe confessing his love for the first time to someone, or maybe he and his partner are having tough times. I can see the fear of rejection in his stance. Still, I hope his effort will make a difference. There's this guy in his suit, still young, maybe the same age as me. He's staring at his fingers while he keeps on stomping the floor. I could feel with the beat his making that there's a job interview coming, or something similar to that. Maybe it's his first time, or tenth. It's either he's worried about how he will present himself to his first interview, or he is worried that he's still not hired after all the interviews he went through. I hope he'll do great. And there's also this group of girls sitting in the middle of the train, they were smiling, and slays with their uniforms on. The way they smile, it makes me miss those days when I'm with the guys, the brotherhood and all the crazy jokes that only us can understand. Before I even know it, it's already my stop.

I looked at my watch and it's just 10:21 in the morning. My stomach is still in no shape to digest any food at all, but I decided to walk my way to ASEANA and grab some lunch. The good and bad thing about me is that I give utmost importance to my routine. Even when I am not feeling well, I still make sure that I'll be able to eat on time, do all my chores, and finish my work. On the other hand, I have problems in adapting or changing my routine. That's the thing that I'm trying to deal with right now.

Unfortunately, I'm still a few blocks away the nearest McDonald's with my headphones on and cigarette on my left hand. I'm currently listening to Under the Sun by Lawson. Because I'm literally under the sun as I look in both of my arms. Red and sweating like hell. I tossed the cigarette just as I enter the establishment.

I eat alone almost every single day. I'm used to it, and I've kind of enjoyed my own company during this type of hour. But back then, I used to talk and message her while I'm on my own. She never failed to remind me of the things that I should accomplish for the day, what not to eat due to my allergy, and she'll get mad because that's still what I'm going to order. It is cute back then, but melancholic now.

I ordered spicy chicken, which I am allergic to, and took my seat in the edge of the establishment. It's still fresh, not the food, the wounds. I enjoy being all on my own, seeing bright smiles from families, partners, friends, and everything else. But there are those times where I wish I could share my meal with my family, friends, and at this very moment, I wish I could share this time with her.