To my left is a mug of hot coffee, not the brewed one, but a concoction of boiled tap water and an instant cappuccino. No matter how Nescafe positions this cappuccino to capture the young urban professional market, the chic market, the taste of this coffee solution is nothing near a real cappuccino. My coffee tastes like hot water mixed with a residue after decanting the water used to soak my six jeans for three days; you add 35g/vol of artificial caffeine for the added ‘kick’, and voila! Tastes exactly like a cappuccino from Venice.
In front of me is my laptop showing a blank Word page mockingly staring at me and my inability to write anything decent, sensible, or readable. It constantly complains about the trash I generate from my daily writing exercise. It bewails the fact that I have not even opened other programs other than Word and Media Player. The former for writing, of course, the first and the last thing I do every day, and the latter for playing my Vietnamese love songs, 90s Pinoy Rock, 80s New Wave, airline instrumental, and some occasional porn (of course).
Behind me is a sight I’d rather not look at – a mountain of soiled dishes I have not washed for almost a week now, which according to a friend, right at this moment, the heap of unwashed plates and eating utensils is culturing rare strains of fungi and bacteria that can be more virulent than A(H1N1). But I reasoned unless the Department of Health studies them, the seeping odor of decaying food matter is something that concerns me more. I am thinking of creating a fire inside my room to activate the sprinkler that will clean the dishes in no time.
To my right is a view of the Pasig City Skyline. It is cloudy outside which can be a result of any or a combination of the following:
A. fog (but quite impossible, temperature in Manila does not go below 25 degree Centigrade),
B. smog (yeah, could be, the smoke coming from all the factories in Mandaluyong, plus the imaginary fog)
C. I need to wipe my windows with the stack of old newspapers I have collected or start a fire to, again, activate the fire sprinkler that will clean the windows in no time (It’s been a long time since I opened my windows after I’ve read in the news that the air along EDSA is the most polluted in Metro Manila, and to think that EDSA is directly in front of the condominium I am staying in). I had an argument with a friend one day when I refused to open the windows. He said that the air inside our unit is getting stale (remember the unwashed dishes). And I added, but only said this to myself, that the air is also infused with unknown strains of fungi and bacteria waiting to wreak havoc and to cause another global pandemic. It’s a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea. I would rather die from disease caused by a rare bacteria which they will have a hard time associating with the unwashed dishes than asthma, lung cancer, bronchitis caused by the unforgiving EDSA, not to mention ruptured cochlea due to unwavering noise.
D. all of the above.
An arm’s length to my left are stacks of books I need to finish reading. I have this really bad trait of starting reading a book from the last pages and from there randomly reading the middle part until I create a momentum that will prompt me to begin reading from the first page. This method, I realized, is very inefficient and expensive. I don’t get to finish reading the entire book because I have this feeling that I’ve already read the entire book, and so I have to buy new books to add to my list of readings that adds pressure on my finances.
And finally, a spitting distance from where I am sitting this time is a chocolate flavored dough nut that does not look like a donut at all. For one, it does not have a hole like dough nuts. It is elongated and not round. And it tastes like a cross between Dunkin Donut and Krispy Kreme.
For whomever’s sake, why am I entertaining these thoughts? I should start writing now.