He liked it, sure thing. I smiled at him and looked out on the road, examining each passer-by's expression, deep inside, hoping would see some interesting fellow-even just for viewing pleasure.
My attention soon drawn to this White parents with a son who looked Exactly like his dad, or, a Dad who looked exactly like his boy, I dunno, either way. The boy wears a blondie hair, reached his ear-tip, sat elegantly next to his mom who, again, looked like the son and the husband, funny. They talked in moderate volume, I tried to catch up with what they were talking about but can only distinct their American accent, just like the glass-eyed girl who sat on the table behind them. The more I saw the boy, the more I like how he behave, his talked and how he played with his hand to emphasize whatever he tried to say is adorable, or, intelligent.
I liked him the most when he surrendered to his weary body, curled up in the chair. 'Wake up, son. We're not staying here forever,' the dad said while got up from his seat and shaked the small daughter who put on whatthefuckiwanttosleep pouty face, struggled to bent down under the table looking for her other sandal. The boy, now rested his small head on the back of the chair, rubbed his eyes, and fell asleep again. The patient mom with eye-glasses sighed, uttered his name again, 'Please wake up, hon, we need to go now,' It took a while until the boy got on his feet and held his mom's right hand, followed them while keeping his sleepy mode. I laughed, cant help it, the mom looked at me, offered a smile.
I
Fuck, I cant fight my sleepiness. My housemate looked bored as well. We've been silent for a while, he and the newspaper.
Finally crushed into the couch at midnite, dozzed off until 7 am. I felt something wrong with my stomach. I went upstairs, did my short workout and headed to shower, putting my sweaty head under the cold shower, stood there for a while, enjoying the cold stream washing away the heat.
Walked out of the glass door, I stood in front of the waist height mirror, watching my own figure, my
Punker looked miserable, with that black jacket, he rode his motor, silent, with pale face and red nose. The weather is pretty messed up, too, and some are started to suffer from cold & flu. Hope mine is immune enough besides my two long-refuge to the restroom before the lunchtime is quite overwhelming, diarrhea is suckass, and the migraine I am trying to ignore right now helps me appreciate (healthy) life more.
I checked out my Manjam profile and checked out the tracklist. It is always entertaining to read the one-liner subject of those profiles, not to mention their viewfrombedroomi'mcheap kind of profile pictures. One particular profile attracted my attention, on the right side of his photo, his one-line text says it well,
'You can be replaced.'
I mean, what's his idea of headlining his profile with that backoffyoujerk line? LOL
And another interesting thing, I chatted with one attractive lad (at my age, more or less) who kept calling me mate though I asked him to call my own first name. He has well-written positive profile, though works in 'rear-end' industry. Nonetheless, I am still keen on getting to know him and who knows, we can really be friends.
Oh, the rain is coming again.