a reflection looks back at me. I didn’t dare look at it in the eye. a cat settles itself beneath a parked jeepney. it’s dark and I don’t have to remember. no, not yet. 2:54 March 14
shadows move. casting themselves in the blueish wall. I am falling. face-down. the mattress sinks, refusing me any relief. I didn’t lie. at least, I still believed. 2:57 March 14
don’t smirk at me. stop giggling behind my back. why must you do it? Oh. it’s not (about) me? … yeah. right. 2:59 March 14
the room stinks of light. it’s all too much, overhead, reflected against an artificial white table. labor, labor. f*ck you, I can’t spell love anymore. this space is function; no love. this space is digits, quotas, quality, blah blah. I don’t create, I produce. if I don’t emit, I lose. against you. against me. how did I get here? how did I become one AND against the enemy?! … 3:06 March 14
I’m sorry, Jan.
3:08 March 14