Snickers and Scar Tissue

After three geological ages, when the dinosaurs became instinct and the apes evolved into a man, I finally went out of Room 9. I was isolated for two weeks there but it felt like forever. My infamous chickenpox finally subsided leaving me with scars and a deflated self-esteem. Room 9 is one of the empty rooms in the dorm with a reputation of hovering ghosts. I haven’t felt any disturbances whatsoever, thank you. I practically survived with a bunch of Urbandub CDs (they are one of the best pinoy bands now, I adore Urbandub), Mexican coffee (Tatay gave me when I went home), and several good books. I reread Great Expectations and David Cooperfield by Charles Dickens that my mindset became slightly British. I remember texting my friend, “I am ill now” from the usual “I’m sick.” I felt I was imprisoned because I was only given food and was not allowed to go out of the room until most of my dormates are already out for work. I never felt so isolated. The blisters were not so bad since the doctor gave me this medicine that costs P152 a tablet which I have to take six times a day for seven days. I was not only ugly with scars but broke at the same time. A cruel combination for this little vain world. My friends gave me lots of beauty advises to make the scars invisible. I bought three whitening creams and lots of Vitamin E. How vain can I get? Finally, I settled for the cheapest and the most philosophical advise, “your scars, among other things, will soon shall pass.”

Denden called me up and told me that they will be coming over from Iloilo for an interview in the embassy. She told me if I could fetch her in their hotel in Pasay so we could roam around. It felt so strange coming out of the sun after two weeks of hibernation. I feel like seeing the world in a different light. Hah! We watched Brokeback Mountain. It was a good movie. But since Denden is a sucker for happy endings (which most of the time an insult to ones IQ) she was a bit disappointed. She gave me lots of chocolates and I ate some while riding in the MRT that I practically fell in love with this wasted looking guy on my left. Hehehe. Is it love or is it Snickers with almonds? After i finished a pack of snickers and drank water; the saccharine high subsided, I looked at the wasted guy on my left again and I felt he was a cowboy from hell badly needing a haircut. See? It’s all in the brain, fellas. Love is a chemical. And you could eat only so much snickers.