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Friday, October 08, 2004 A day that flatlines is not a Friday. But here's an anomaly. Sparks flew not from the tip of my fingers. I just carried on the salmon day without the proverbial flame in the belly, without the Ogilvy jugular to latch on to. I gave everyone the Garfield stare of the unamused. I laughed the laugh but my heart wasn't into it. Automaton on auto-pilot. Cruising a day that crawled. Rodney Dangerfield deceased, no Weapons of Mass Destruction, Pimp my Ride on MTV.The bed weather tapped lightly on the window. Meanderings of the comfort of the bed. With a TV remote on my hand. Nevermind DVD, what could be on HBO this very minute? Einstein's theory of relativity at play. And only one antidote serum I know of. MCS. Yup, none other. At last, a spike to the cardiogram. Scouring the treasure-hold of the pirates' nest is in itself a therapy. 5:56 ... 5:57 ... 5:58 ... 5:59 ... 6:00 ... I was quicksilver. A mercury dash to the outer fringes of Makati. Touchdown. Rabid. Eyes scanning with surgical precision. Uh-oh, nothing new. Even the vendors seem to have lost their appetite to sell their forbidden wares, lost in the news broadcast on their reconditioned boob tubes straight from the gutters of Japan. On the way home, bumped into friends, with the same glazed, remote look. Here's a cosmic aberration. A Friday that flatlined.
posted by Alexis at 3:42 AM |
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