30/08/2026
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ | ๐ก๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐ป๐ฎ๐น ๐๐ฟ๐ถ๐ฒ๐ณ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ป๐ฒ๐๐ ๐ ๐ผ๐ป๐๐ต
๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ป๐ผ๐๐ต๐ฒ๐ฟ ๐๐ฎ๐
Hello! I am the brain of this here man standing in front of no one. Hmmmโฆ It depends what you refer to him as, or in what regard do you care for him, or in what manner you are going to approach his acquaintance, as he is just a someoneโone thing is for sure; ๐ฉ๐๐๐จ ๐ข๐๐ฃ ๐๐จ ๐ฃ๐ค ๐ก๐ค๐ฃ๐๐๐ง ๐๐๐ง๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ช๐จ.
Now, let me trace back. Weeks back, to moments and points in time, whenever in existence I canโt properly recall as of this moment. Some parts of myself have started to deteriorate, but I will, in the best of my ability, tell you what heโฆ
What I think I feel.
Recently, life has been but a gobstopper in the bum. I have no ability to consume and break it down where it is displaced. I also cannot simply ignore the nuisance it causes in its location. So, I just gulp a pint of air and keep moving. You know, someone always told me to keep moving no matter what downfall I went throughโI canโt remember who though.
Yeahโright, I was supposed to do something today. But I canโt seem to pinpoint what, so wherever I am standing in this vast planet, I just keep doing what I think Iโve been doing. Right now, I seem to be holding a bristle roller-brush and in front of this here wall, half-baked in the process of its cooking. I was most probably repainting old walls in this roomโstarting a new chapter in my life, I guessโa good man that I am. As I was brushing, this neglectful fathoming of mine hindered my way of noticing the aptly situated garden painting I am layering on, which looked like one that is drawn by a middle-schooler.
Meh. Maybe one of mine when I was young, but this looks too unsightly to be of my strokes. My stomach began bantering. I ambled outside the room and regurgitated a reverberating sigh. The walls of this house appear now duller, emitting f***l hues; the floor unfurnished and blotched with gashes; and the air arid and sulfuric in the lungs. I proceeded to the kitchen, where a 4-seat large dining table greets me cramped beside a countertop with a sink full of habituating flies. Did I have people over? Since when did my dining table become a squatting area of beer bottles? I ought to tidy this up in a garbage wrap. Now where was thatโฆ
As my hand grasped the top-drawer handle of the 3-layered drawer beneath the countertop, a shrieking ringing kept piercing my ears. Hmmโฆ must be the telephone. I dropped the garbage bag in the pursuit to silence this wretched banshee wailing in my home. I found it in the living room on top of a round coffee table by the old dusty upholstered oak sofa. I picked it up.
โThank goodness someone finally answered. Is this Melvin?โ
Yes, it is.
โWhy have you not called in 2 weeks? Is something the matter? We need you to handle the company partnership with Dessociate Inc., if you want to stop, just inform me and your eradication from this company will be a breeze.โ
This voiceless house finally started to entertain me as a guest.
I donโt think I can clock in, sir.
โWell, youโre fired.โ
The wailing banshee drifted away now, slowly and assuredly leaving its deafening remnants in this handset I'm clutching my last words onto. Now here comes the silence, it started whispering in my ear. It kept whispering that I should not fret. It kept telling me that I will faint and that no one will be of service to my emergency. I will be clutching my stomach in its barren agony, gurgling in famine, and that I will remember myself as but a mere shell along the lines of having lived a failure.
๐๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ค๐บ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฅ, ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ต๐ฉ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฆ๐น๐ช๐ด๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ช๐ฏ. I fell, and came falling with me a shattered picture frame of a nuclear family of 3, nosedived from the nightstand beside the sofa.
Hello, back here again. This man here is unconscious and was losing himself in moments and points in time in the last 2 weeks of his life. He barely remembers what he was doing, barely thinks of himself as still a self, and became numb of emotions. In my mercyโI saved him, I made him forget, I made him desensitized, I made him feel emotionless so that he would be able to continue living his life, at least breathing, in the least extent. If I had not, he would crash, like a pipit witnessing his own kin to its demise after a cuckoo suddenly tips the eggs over his well-taken-care-of nest, seeing his raised family perish one by one, and suddenly lose its flight and meet the same fate.
๐ ๐๐ข ๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ฉ ๐ค๐ ๐๐๐ข, ๐๐ช๐ฉ ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐จ ๐ฃ๐ค ๐ก๐ค๐ฃ๐๐๐ง ๐ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐จ ๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ฉ ๐ค๐ ๐ข๐. ๐๐ค๐ฉ ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ฉ๐๐๐ง ๐๐๐ฎ ๐๐ฃ๐ฎ๐ข๐ค๐ง๐. ๐๐ค๐ฌ, ๐๐ฃ ๐ฉ๐๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ก ๐๐๐๐ค๐ช๐ง๐ฃ๐๐ฃ๐. ๐ ๐๐ข ๐๐๐ก๐ซ๐๐ฃโ๐จ ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฃ, ๐จ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ค๐๐.
โ๏ธ: Gabriel Benedict Jovero
๐ผ๏ธ: Zhamantha Doblon
