When Unexpected Things Happen!

Note: this blog is an experience of mine that was supposed to be nice and worthwhile but it turned so bad and silly. This blog might contain dirty words, just for you to be aware!

We planned to do the drinking stuff to forget someone to my extent, and to move away from the world of academic pressures (that was Friday so we think of no worries at all). But on our way there, things that we haven’t even expected happened.

We started to do it in the afternoon by buying a long necked bottle of light liquor from a store not so far from my friend's boarding house. Unfortunately, we were not able to bring our backpacks, essential things for the bottle to be well kept hidden from the ravenous eyes of the public. Consequently, we have to bring it by hand and ramp it out as we walk towards the place for it to be consumed, a few blocks away from the store where it was bought.

F*ckingly, we were shooed from the place because drinking there was not allowed, not unless the liquor itself was bought from there, making us walk for another 20 minutes looking for another place to savor, but we were also shooed away for the same reason. So I called one of my male friends and asked if we can do our ‘chukarap’ (we term drinking as ‘chukarap’ not to make it obvious) session at their boarding house. But we failed.

This led us to decide where our final setting will be. Upon doing so, we walked for about an hour and roamed around the city and ended our trail at the freedom park, exhausted, hungry and perspiring.

I planned to just go home at leave the bottle of liquor at the street side because we had nowhere else to go. But my companion was so eager not to end the night with frustrations, so we waited until 7 pm, thinking that the store along the boulevard opens at the same time. He played flappy bird while I went to my friends place to borrow his backpack. 

Again, we walked after almost an hour of sitting on the still hot concrete bench, leaving plastic wrappers of hamburgers behind. Fortunately, we found a crisp 20 pesos lying on the sidewalk, and a friend of ours walking on the opposite side towards Jollibee, wearing his ragged clothing and a pair of new gray Ice Cube slippers, and invited him to come with us. Now with the three of us, the ‘chukarap’ session will be nicer, I assumed.

We reached the place 10 minutes before they opened, (another frustration for me). But that doesn't affected the two of them, and they just sit by the sea wall across the road. One ordered a liter of C2, apple flavor and a pack of ice. To make the story fast forwarded, we finished the bottle immediately and ordered another 1 liter bottle of beer. I almost couldn’t take another shot because my tummy rumbles like elephant snores, but I must. After two bottles of beer, I got tipsy (a little bit drunk, you could say that) and decided to just go home ahead of them, thinking of my father’s reaction when I arrive home with that condition.

I arrived home with a churned stomach, but I still forced myself not to spoil with our wall or to our floor after my father castigated me. He yelled like an angry lion to a little puppy who just nod and nod after another sermon. Tired, he turned off the lights and left the puppy sneaking, touching the wall to support him, allowing him not to trip over, towards his bedroom.

I closed my eyes but could still feel the dark world turning around me, making illusions through my head.

At the end of everything, I cried while curling myself into a fetal position, knowing that I failed to forget her. I failed to forget the woman that I like. I failed to forget that a gay like me will fall for a woman like her. And as I lay their lying, I forget to notice that I was not sleeping in my bedroom, but in my sister's, not until I woke up early in the morning.