okay, first of all, make sure you are seated comfortably and securely. make sure you aren't in danger of falling off somewhere; if you are holding a lethal object, put it down. i don't want you to hurt yourself just because of my announcement. okay game?these days, i don't LOOK fabulous.
well, not in that way, silly. that's like a hard stunt to pull off. harhar; kidding. here's what i mean though: i was walking in the mall a while ago and *bam!* i suddenly realize that i cannot read the menu--the big one nailed behind the cash register. well, i recognized words like "milk" and "ice" because i knew how the words look like, design and dimension-wise. just like what i told my idiot friend: if the word printed above the door is long, that's where you enter; if it's short, that's where you're supposed to go out.
but seriously, the individual letters, i had a hard time to distinguish. everything was so...suffused. so not sharp. i swear the markings on the board did not have edges. it's like looking through the window when the rain's falling so hard and the view is being distorted by water that's sliding down the sheet of glass.
i don't think i've suddenly become illiterate or dyslexic. and if there's anything i am very terrified of, it is going blind. i will rather lose a leg or an arm but i will not go blind. sheesh, i'd rather give up smoking. (yeah listen to me go on with this, with lights turned except for a cutesy night light and my notebook's monitor.)
truth be told, i actually own a pair of glasses. i have been prescribed one when i was still a kid. it's funny, really, since i am not an insistent reader or what have you. how i could have destroyed my chances of ever being a pilot at that young an age is beyond my capability to connect events. but i know this much: i don't wear my glasses because they are:
1) so goddam inconvenient
2) very unflattering
3) the accessory makes me look smart, profound and all proper--things that i am not.
but right now, all i could think about is going to the opthalmologist to have my eyes refracted the soonest time possible. i probably have outgrown the pair that i have now; i get headaches when using them, those seldom instances that could probably be registered as a phenomenon.
unreliable eyesight is such a drag. once, i ran spectacularly right smack into springfield's display window, actually intending to go inside the shop to check out clothes. and i was so shocked i wasn't able to remove myself immediately; i stayed plastered against it, feeling the glass vibrate behind my cheek and i tried hard to phase out peachy's hysterical laughter, as if calling all other people in the damn mall to come look at the obese boy stuck to the glass like an idiot. i suddenly felt sympathy with the mannequins. instead of the one looking, i felt that i became the display behind the glass. the looks on the faces of the folks inside the store: priceless. that is one way of drawing attention. best part is that it was not orchestrated. that is my most recent MOST embarrassing experience. (well, wait, not really, but it's in the top ten). but then again, this probably accounts for my stupidity rather than the damage on my eyes. or how the good people at springfield are immensely talented with keeping their glass spotless and clear. well, they lost this customer as i scurried out of sight like the idiot i have come to play. bleh.
prissiness is a good thing. it keeps you from being contaminated in countless ways. i sure wish i knew how to be prim because i think i am the world's biggest klutz in disguise. or a slob claiming to be fabulous. there are days when i don't shave and i walk around the house in a robe. a wonderful robe, i must add. lately, i've noticed that i am more excited about these robes over clothes that i can actually wear in public. (mickey, thanks again for that fabulous balinese robe. i love it so much--c'est chaud dahlin. muy caliente. and to whoever else you are reading this and in the future, you come into a situation wherein you cannot decide what to give me, well then just give me a nice robe.) going back. but then again, that's a matter of taste, clothes that could be worn in public. i've been into skirmishes over that. they take one look at me and a debate worthy of the philippine senate hall goes off.
but hey: if you want evidence that god does not exist, you are invited to take a look at my bedroom and discover how anarchy would look like when translated into mundane matters, what with all stuff thrown on my couch as if sitting on it was not the consideration for its purchase.
but don't get me wrong, in spite of this cesspool i inhabit which i call bedroom (my mom says that i am actually destroying-yes exact word-the house because i insist that one room in it to be this way), i do believe in a higher being. i have figured out young enough that i am not the most tremendous thing. yes, i may have developed the belief that i am important, but certainly, i will not claim to be responsible for such bigger things like the existence of chocolate, tobacco leaves or sugar.
so higher being, please fix my eyes. and when you're done doing that, fix me up with someone. amen.
