tuEsday 2: dOn't sPeAk

it's here.

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if i died, i wouldn't go to heaven. that's because i'll kill myself and dying that way doesn't count. just like in insurance. but i'll plan it real nice so Mortals won't know.

when i die, it wouldn't be obvious that i planned it all out.

see, i might throw myself in front of a speeding car. an expensive-looking car with a myopic, conscience-driven driver. it'll look like he hit me because he was distracted by his girlfriend's wandering hand.

i'll be wearing black. if i bleed, it wouldn't be seen.

and so they'll get out of their posh car. by then, everyone will have seen it. (i will die at lunchtime.) the security guards will be talking to their radios and the nerds and the jocks and the outcasts and the campus dolls will all be a-buzz.

i will be a grotesque figure, prostrate. the sun will be merciless upon my back.

konyo boy will turn me over, because konyita insists that im alive. (but im not.)

my face, never really pretty, will wear an emotionless deathmask. i will manage to look a little less undesirable. my eyes will be open (of course they will be open) and they will stare at everyone.

there, i will lie, the sun now on my face. my breasts will now stand straight and firm because of rigor mortis. (finally.) but my science is choppy. i would have to watch more csi and bones before i carry out this plan.

i am dead.

let's not talk now about what i will feel because at that point, i don't feel. i am the epitome of not feeling. im a corpse. dead.

let's talk about the people. the ones alive.

the people who "killed" me will shoulder the expenses. my wake and the burning of my body will be the most expensive days of my life. oh, wait. im dead.

i'll have a shiny black casket. all black. the cloths, the pillows, will be a powdered silver. there will be no roses.

my family will get my insurance money. it won't be much but my "killers" will add to that. maybe the university too. it depends. there might be a building being constructed at the time. i'll take that into consideration when i plan.

joshua and john will have money for college. (don't go to ateneo, darlings.) it won't be much but it'll be okay.

my mother will finally cry.

my father will rage. and then, retreat.

i will break people's hearts but that's only because it's the polite thing to feel. im dead. everyone's a saint when they die. days after, i'll be flawed again. worse than flawed. it doesn't matter. my soul would be burning in hell by then.

that's one less mouth to feed. one less person to worry about.

one less person to sustain.

one less person to be responsible for.

they'll bathe in gas and strike a match before my mother and father wish me to die. so im doing it for them. no hard feelings. you'll feel better, trust me. im starting to feel better myself.

my work (pathetic) will be published, out of pity. they'll sensationalize it. my family gets everything.

they'll say how talented i am even though everyone will know it's all a lie. i can't write chickenshit, after all, but people will tsk tsk over my "untimely" demise. could have been great, they will say, all the while thinking how this line break happened too soon.

of course, before all this will happen, moments, seconds, minutes, hours, days before, i will not raise suspicion. i will be simple and uncomplicated.

at the dorm, i will watch wrestling, csi, bones and that cute koreanovela (when and if i have the time). i will not eat breakfast and lunch and dinner because i will not have money. i will still think of gabie selfish when she hogs the phone, will still think of her disgusting when she uses the commode with the door open. i will still think geny is an annoying, noisy pest.

i will stay silent during english and lit because everyone there thinks i am stupid. i will try, shamelessly, to listen to the botany professor. i will peer into my microscope during lab and gasp at the tiny wonders. i will ace my math quizzes. i will suppress my frustration during fil. i will continue to hit myself in arnis.

i will still call my mother everyday to tell her about the latest drivel in my life. i will still call her and not tell her that i cried in my sleep last night. i will still text my father and be tempted to tell him how hard it is here and i will still choose to send him the cheerful messages every parent wants to receive.

i will still be ugly.

i will still be fat.

i will still be nonsensical.

i will still be conceited.

i will still be arrogant.

i will still make worlds.

i will still fantasize.

i will still marry the bed at night, alone.

i will still make people hate me.

i will still make people laugh.

i will still make people talk behind my back.

i will still be alone when i need someone to talk to, to be with me, to be quiet with.

i will...

whatever. no one will be the wiser. at lunch, maybe after botany, i'll kill myself. but it wouldn't be obvious. (we've already talked about this, haven't we?)

it wouldn't be obvious. no Mortal will know.

God certainly will. He knows everything, doesn't He? no escaping that Guy.

whatever. in the end, i will die. ultimately, that’s what matters.

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this is such an emoooo post...