Four Scenes of Loneliness

3 days and 4 nights of drama..

The long weekend is almost over. As I check through Facebook, everyone is busy updating and uploading pictures of how they have happily spent their three days off. Plenty have gone to see Transformers. Others have bonded together in picnic parks. Many have frolicked in the warm waters in the beach and indoor pools. Some have watched the PBA Games. Some have enjoyed the traditional bar hopping. Some have gone into road trips to as far as RAK and Fujairah while the rest have contented themselves with casual malling, dining and (window) shopping. It seems the three days gone wouldn't suffice for others to do the things they want to enjoy.

While everyone else couldn't contain their happiness, just the same, I couldn't contain my hurt. I am HACKED. Yes, I am by bitterness, by angst, my disappointment, by frustrations and by old feelings haunting me down from the grave. I couldn't see any happy moments and my heart couldn't seem to move forward from a painful past. People always run me down, use, abuse and leave me behind. The people that I had helped, it time that I needed back the favor couldn't do so much. Just like that. Now I know why I have always wanted to be alone and friend-free, so that I could shield my heart from getting hurt and from always being taken for granted. In this world, you can never really trust anyone.

So I have spent the days in my room and like it was meant to be a series of unfortunate events. My TFC subscription was cut off Thursday morning as I have forgotten to pay the dues. Inside my room, there was an ambiance like bad spirits moving around in conspiracy to depress and make me feel suicidal. I tried to see things around to enliven my attention. There was nothing much to see. Everything was hidden and neatly arranged. The only mess that has drawn my thoughts were the empty bottles of mineral water atop the television drawer, sort of reminding me that if even the basic of necessity doesn't come free in Dubai, how much more it is to find people whom you can trust and love.

Since Thursday morning, I have been eating spaghetti that I cooked the night before. Usually, in my family back home, we only cook spaghetti when there is special occassion. Here in Dubai, I actually cook spaghetti once a week, it's a complete meal that lasts for days when refrigerated. It was my mother who taught me how to cook spaghetti. Yesterday, I called her up to confirm if they have received my padala. But honestly, I just wanted to hear their voices, sometimes inaudible but filled with glee and excitement. In times that I was so down, home is the only place where I get the strenght to carry on.
I have made an attempt to actually see someone last night but it turned out to be an evening of unsolicited penitence. I have braved through widespread sandstorm and up until now I am feeling the dust I inhaled and it's giving me that fragmented disoriented feeling. For hours I have waited outside of a building in day temparature, only to find out that I was waiting in vain. Heading home, I walked the longest walk I could take as I thought of how my sanity have come out of hand. My mind was into places far from where I physically was. It was another lonesome, tiring and failed shot at something I should have learned from a couple of paragraphs back. I was born to be alone.