11:30 p.m.
Gluttony subsided to stomach ache and was followed by misery. Hadn't felt that alone in a long long time. Empty rooms, no electricity, ground floor filled with octogenarians- Life ! Facebook seems like an outlet for pretense, whatsapp a communication hazard-there's no smiley made yet to describe my mounting headache.
12:00 a.m
Desperately searching for a left-over cigarette on the desk. Furious at the lack of sleep, companion and hope, I decided to fish for tobacco filled stubs in the ashtray(basically a jar of empty Foxs') with the torchlight on my cell- bless Nokia. Fuck - success had never loved me back.
Dunno when
Sleep !
3:30 a.m.
Bam ! Woke up with a start-staring into the blind darkness. And then, it hit. The pain. Searing pain on the lower left side of my jaw. Who's there? Night ! Logic starts to set in-where's my left hand? O it's right there where I remember putting it last-inside my pants. Where's the right one?-under my head. Shit. Where's the light switch? Alright, alright, alright - relax. No-one's here-quiet like the dead. Must've been a dream, a bad dream but the pain was real, scarily real. My reflection looks OK in the mirror, no sense of activity in the room. The headache's returning-fuck it, sleep for now.
3:40 a.m.
Slap ! What the bloody fuck ! Now I'm pissed-if there's a ghost here, he'll be fucked tonight. Lights on. I'm skipping across the room like a boxer looking to maul his opponent. Nothing. Fury makes way for fear. It's still the left side of the face and the pain only added to the fear. Am I shivering? may be- I don't know- and I thought reasoning was my strength ! It's 3.40 a.m , the house is empty, a dog is crying somewhere-someone shut that stray fucker's whining. A story comes into mind- a story from long long ago- some priest was talking about things, interesting but illogical things, about a world above and a world below. It was a long one but only one small fragment lingers. The other side enters our realm between 3 and 4 am. Man ! savage beliefs, better wash my face-it still hurts. Water feels good. It's all calm- you can be worried for only a limited time- you gotta be realistic about these things ! Lie down, watch the ceiling, remember the song-any song-leave the lights on.
Dunno when
Deep sleep !
9:30 a.m
WAKE UP DAMMIT ! late for office-yet again. Jaw still paining- I've been hit before so I know the feeling. It's going to be alright in about 2 days but it was a clean punch-exactly the way I'd hit a foe. No time to mull over it-will feel better at work-and then there's Sarika-O Sarika ! What a fantastic conversation this incident is going to make - me = such a fucking lowlife.
3:00 p.m
Everyone's laughing at my story-some with me, others on me-all in all a good time. Never knew I could tell a funny story(I didn't intend it to be funny though), never knew I had it in me. Sarika seems impressed- oh yeah ! Get's me a bonus one to one talk with her- eternal bliss ! Should I ask her out? Maybe I should. No, bad idea. But why not ? Because I'm a dork. So what? Everyone I see her with is very much the same. Ok. Ok. O fucking K. Let's do it.
Me: Hi!(Wow-managed to string a word together)
She: Hey!(Sweet voice of god).
Me: I wanted to uh.. (Fuck you illiterate cocksucker-may the lightning strike on the English teacher who taught us to think before speaking)
She: Yea sure. whatsup? (mmmmmmmm)
Me:(Fighting the urge to say dick - fuck those nonsensical childhood jokes - nostalgia - wish I was cool at school) Umm.. Umm..(MOTHERFUCKER - Period.)
She: Ha ha ha. Are you trying to enact another funny story(Loss.. Total loss).
Me: (Gotham has fallen - Batman is for losers who are born to be single) Oh ha ha(bla bla). Just checking..umm. did you complete the task(whatever the fuck) we discussed in today's scrum ?
She: bla bla bla (fuck me fuck her-fuck this eternal sense of useless being)
Me: OK (There's a window nearby- would it hurt if I'd take a leap?)
6:00 p.m
Table Tennis- fuck the Chinese. I was never good at it. Got beat up real bad- yet again. Chicken ham sandwich- sweet gluttony- yeeeeaaahhhh.
8:00 p.m
3 carlsberg please. Strong. Cans. Overpriced alcohol- fuck the government- useless democracy- The president should beg me to become King- as I must've been in the past life. Maybe I was Alexander- nah sounds gay, maybe Barbarossa- nah, fucker died swimming, maybe Richard the Lionhearted- hmmmmm.
11:00 p.m
Heaven !
11:30 p.m
Where's the fucking cigarette ? Why me? Why o why me?
12:00 a.m
Whatsapp- ha ha.. bla bla.. ha ha.. son of a cock-starved bitch !
1:30 a.m
I am GOD ! Oh yeah. Fuck you lower beings- bow before me. I am GOD ! of age of empires(emptiness)
2:00 a.m
Obladiii.. Obladaa.. life goes on.. La la la la. Life goes on(I must've been a beatle in past life- True that !)
2:15 a.m
AKON- lonely
2:25 a.m
ENRIQUE(The cheapskate in me took over- I love addicted- I know I do- you know YOU do- fuck. Even I know that you do.)
Dunno when
SOUND sleep
3:15 a.m
SLAP. Holy indonesian kitten shit ! Fuck the lights, fuck the room, fuck the house, fuck the slippers, fuck life to eternity. I jump down the flight of stairs-4 at a time. I'm on the outside- it's all quiet-all dark-where's that whining dog now when I need his company? I can see my floor. No lights- all dark- cold sweat. I need to tell some. Let me call a friend. Where's the cell? It's in the room where I left it in my mad running frenzy. Something's wrong. The left side hurts- It was a slap, a hard slap, 4 fingers- meant to hurt. Logic knocking on brain doors-do my hands sting from hitting something? Nope- all good. Just cold sweat. The room was locked. The main door- locked. Door chain-was in place. Fuck !
3:30 a.m
What to do? Shall I wake the oldies ? No, they might kill me. Or worse, throw me out. I need my cell(fucking technology-blocked all thinking).
3:40 a.m
I'm back at my door. Lights on(Bless the electrician for keeping the switch close to the doors). Nothing. Who's here? Nothing. What do you want?(probably my head or worse..)As if someone's going to answer. Ha ha. Didn't I watch any horror movies? Here's the cell. Okay, whom should I call?
4:00 a.m
I should call dad. He'll know what to do. So, calling.
4:02 a.m
You worthless piece of shit ! All money spent on education-wasted. The prodigal son- a fucking coward- scared of being alone in a house. No calling. Anyone. No, no, no. The story comes back. At 4:00 a.m the other side is blocked. Okay. But what if some entered and couldn't get out(of this world)? What if some managed to stay? OK, I got it. If I fall asleep, I wont last the night.
Dunno when
Snoring.
Me: Who's there
? : You are
Me: I heard something. May be someone was snoring
? : You were bitch !
Me: O yeah !
4:30 a.m
WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED ? Somebody was talking. I was. I know I was. But I heard a voice. It was a dream. Was it? Deep in thought.
4:31 a.m
SMACK.
....
....
....
Soon
I am screaming. I am screaming like a little bitch surrounded by big wolves. I am screaming with my voice as shrill as an Celine Dion. I don't know what to do. Loss of propriety, sanity, sense, hope !
11:00 a.m
Where am I? Looks like a hospital. Shit. I cant see my legs. Okay, they're under the covers. The hands look alright. Soon, I'm told what happened. I was brought in by the landlord after I fainted-after I screamed like a bitch- after I lost my sanity. I say I don't remember what happened-maybe it was a nightmare- What? Tell them everything and be declared insane-sent to mental asylum-or worse, to a psychiatrist-or worse, call my parents-or worse, report in office.
5:00 p.m
I'm en route to home. I don't want to talk about it.
11:30 p.m
I'm home. Parents seem happy. What will they think when they hear that I came running back scared of something I can't understand, something did something I ain't sure that ever happened. No choice. Got to spill the beans.
Later
Nothing of much interest. Some rituals. Some unintelligible advices. Some ring, some thread, some bag to keep under the pillow and on and on and on.
In general
It still happens once in a while-ALWAYS between 3 and 4 a.m . It ain't scary anymore- in fact it's somewhat reassuring- may be it doesn't let me feel alone- think I'll give the fucking thing a name- maybe 'Pantoufle', maybe 'Yossarion', in fact maybe 'Shantaram'- you've gotta be realistic about these things.