This is impossible. My friend left the house and went to another friend’s house because there is a power blackout. She has to finish an important paper due anytime soon and she needs internet connection and electricity. I just finished my class and am left outside the house and to myself what to do next. She intends to stay in her friend’s house for the next two hours.
Wanting to escape the heat outside, I come and trap myself inside this café where the price is overly beyond what I am willing to pay for a glass of liquid. The heat outside is unbearable but the money I have to spew for a glass of iced yoghurt and cocoa and several slices of watermelons makes me hotter inside than the heat outside.
Hanoi has this notorious power blackout lasting from five hours to an entire day because the government is embarking on austerity measures that promise to cut expenses.
I have no one to blame, I know, but there are days when everything seems to go against me, making everything too miserable: the crazy traffic jam, the 36 degree Centigrade temperature outside, the rest I’ve been wanting but cannot have, which make me want to blame all these to the first innocent person I see.
I want to blame it to a suspiciously lesbian couple opposite my table who are about to finish their scrumptious lunch and now ordering two bottles of cold Heineken beer. Or the four men three tables to my left wearing their company-issued shirts, eating a company-sponsored meal, drinking Coke, the company they are working for, probably. Or the noisy family of five at the corner who seemed to be eating all the food in the menu. I want to blame this on the lousy chandelier and its yellow glow in the middle of a hot and humid afternoon. I want to blame this on the boring song playing right now that I do not understand. I want to blame this on the paintings littered on the walls of this cafe. These reproductions of still lifes, portraits, and landscapes could look no cheaper.
It’s so easy to blame the world for all the unfortunate events in my life today. Hate could easily seep through one’s heart when from out of nowhere miserable things come one after the other leaving me unable to deal with each of them gracefully. At least I can still write them down, for once that’s good enough.
I just do not want to go out now and face the traffic and the heat outside.