... at papangalanan kitang Alon. Hindi Jonathan, o kaya nama'y Michael. Lalong hindi Marvin.

Gusto ko nang mag-August para matapos na lahat `to. Para matapos na `to.

-"The story, whatever story, is always about you."

I step inside my room, weary from the day that was, and suddenly find myself lost, as if in a trance. Everything is in perfect disorder- bed sheets crumpled like scrap paper set aside after use, dirty clothes scattered on the wooden tile, unfinished manuscripts lying in bed, dying to get noticed, cigarette butts seeking refuge in the god-forsaken ashtray, a bottle of half-emptied cheap wine lonesome on the bedside table. This is my life captured in the stillness of this mess; my life summed up in the four courners of this room. I peek outside through the peephole in my window, hiding behind the curtains, looking closely, in paranoia, if somebody else is looking back at me, closely, through the window, like a fugitive in search for a madman out loose. But i am the lunatic whom nobody knows, except for these walls who have witnessed god-knows-what--- a juvenile trembling in both pain and pleasure as she submits herself to her first fuck, an escapist in an attempt to surrender the dullness of her youth, her very life, to a rusty little blade. This room is a dumpsite, an asylum, a reflection of my bitter self.

As i undress, i reveal, piece by piece, cloth by cloth, flesh by flesh, what is hidden beneath the facade. I am blistered. Stripped of the mask, i then look at myself in the mirror, in disgust. "An unpleasant sight," i murmur. The reflection spits at my face, in retort. We both feel nauseous looking at each other. This fact being, i know, although i wish not to believe, that i am far worse than being alone, if there is something worse than such. I am bound to dance this tango, all by myself.

I am a litter lying on the side street that no one ever bothers to pick up. And so for the mean time, i submit myself to the gush of the wind, hoping to end up in the trash bin if i get lucky. For the mean time, i lie naked on the floor, inside this messy room, and wait. Wait until somebody steps in and do the workings for me. Or wait until i get back to my senses and clean up the clutter myself. For the mean time, i guess i have to settle swimming in dirt and making love with the stale air. Until i eventually drown. Until i could fuck no more.