Fuck Today.

It has been a long day, but time felt a fleeting ship. Fast, merciless perhaps, never waiting.

It’s somewhat funny to imagine that 12 hours ago from this hour I was sitting here wondering about my freedom of independence and decisions, minutes after my dad irrationally hollered at me for donating blood without seeking his permission. I was angry, aghast, an insatiable void of angst crumbling into a large canyon of nothingness. But no one, and nothing, was there for me to talk to, and the anger somewhat swelled into temper. I wasn’t afraid to have go, and I almost had one with my brother, another tactless individual of the house that wouldn’t see an act of kindness as compassion but instead deeming it as an act stupidity.

And I almost lost it at my assignment partner. If he was standing with me during that moment I would’ve hit him, I admit with much guilt, and that moment the rage seething in me was almost close to eruption. One could only tolerate laziness and utter irresponsibility for so much. The only thing holding me back from totally deluging him with every stinking fault of his was the fact that he is a friend, and a companion. I held back, but I remembered the heat of my replies to his fucked-up answers. I apologized later, but looking back I realized that I never really meant it. Cold as it may seem, I did it only to maintain the friendship between us. It struck me that he never apologized.

You’d wonder how someone should feel when they had practically cost the sleep and rest of a friend because of pure idleness. Perhaps there was guilt in him, I pondered, as I sat in a very long and silent night typing down a feature with no planning and limited information. I can’t blame it entirely on him; my own procrastination and unfortunate delays had their cause it in. Lonely, tired, dejected, one could only feel this much depression in a night. One can of coffee, Questionable Contents open in a separate computer window and some snacks snuck out of the kitchen, I set down to finish the story. It took me 5 hours.

I read back and saw how messy it is, but what is done is done, and I don’t have the luxury of time to retrace my steps and start over. And I was late. A good amount of dallying and immense drowsiness caused me to miss my intended train. The event I’m supposed to attend was held in KLCC, at the convention centre, and when I arrived I was 5 minutes past entrance time. So I ran, like an idiot and a stupid moron, foolishly afraid that being late meant that entrance to the event would be troublesome for another party’s part. I ran on a body devoid of sleep, food and water with only the remnants of the caffeine in my 3 a.m. coffee drink. It was sickening. It was fucked-up above all things.

I found the class, panting, sweating, wanting to puke and only finding that there was nothing that could be regurgitated. The guys looked at me as though I was the foolish bastard, as though everything that matters me to them is gone. I felt childishly dejected and ignored. The girl I’m that I am so deeply infatuated with barely acknowledged my existence there, despite me heaving away like an asthmatic patient right in front of her. It was only later when she asked what was wrong with me, and before I can answer properly she was away with a hand phone. And if there was anything that felt worse than crap this stinking morning, this was it. The feeling of dejection and ignorance.
I know that I am naïvely and irrationally pissed off, but the pain is there, stabbing, nagging, tugging at the rib cage and toiling my already numbing mind. It was my own fault that I am ignored, this I can readily admit. But it comes to show that I am the insignificant bastard no one gives a damn about. Not until I make a show of involuntary groaning. That is something you can’t ignore. And fuck it.

There was no real reason for us to be there at the event, apart from being fillers in that large hall. Everyone was there for nothing, just there, sitting, half-heartedly listening, sleeping, reading, all that jazz. By then I was so thoroughly under a case of self-inflicted mellowness I took the liberty of acting like a journalist and made a small coverage over the stupid event. Yes, it was stupid, and even more stupid for us to be there. Top my crappy morning off with something that I’m practically forced to go only to make a half-assed coverage, listening to dull speeches and being annoyingly blinded by irrelevant light shows. Fuck. Yes, fuck. Fuck that fucked up stupid shit of an event. Fuck the person who wants me there for nothing and fuck the morning. Fuck everyone, I don’t care. The point is that I don’t wanna give a fuck and I’m giving a fuck anyway. Fuck it.

I apologize. But if there’s one day where I ought to have the privilege of saying fuck at, well, it was today.

Fuck it.

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: Fuck.

Song of the day: Better Days by The Goo Goo Dolls.