Alter 100 [4/12]
"I'm sorry, I'm late." is what either of us would say every time we meet. Perhaps one of us had showered longer than usual and it was always me. I remember bathing so well when I was finally going to formally meet you – not that I didn’t always shower nicely for the meet ups to follow. In fact, I always do. I always bathe too slow or too long that it came to the point it aggravated you. I lived in the north; your place was south of mine and I always bothered to travel that far. It was worth it, I thought. Or at least the sex.
It was an empty pleasure just like every hook up I ever had. But you were different. I thought you looked like the man of my dreams – yet I ask myself now if I ever had one – only to find out that everything…was just actually really…a dream. You were a bit of a bothersome but funny, nonetheless. Something I could tolerate. But then I guessed you were the one who couldn’t tolerate me anymore, could you? The blame game started like we were a cliché couple.
It’s not something you signed up for. That point you made so clear I wish I knew how to digest it – like you do mine in multiple ways I couldn’t resist. You were so good at it you could make me come. Hands-free. But then a dangerously unpleasant thought came which I wished I didn’t care to entertain. How many men have you had before getting so skillful at what you brag? Then inevitably, the question backfired. So, I just forget the un/justifiable. The past is such a traitor, isn’t it?
But I can only say these now out of retrospection. It was always spontaneous I’d like to claim. Spontaneously cliché. We would eat at a fast food nearby so we could get it over at your place. The location of your mouthwash has become familiar. Even you already knew, you’d still ask whether I’d want my shower hot. Long negotiation became short for we understood our quirks. Despite the familiarity, I still get confused between your hand soap and dishwashing liquid. I asked you to make them distinct but you never did! And every time we enjoy ourselves, we always end up arguing pathetically over a question we never got over:
We were both in the same grocery isle searching perhaps for the same item, but what did you see in me that made you ask for my number?
JANUARY - Alter 100 [1/12]
FEBRUARY - Alter 100 [2/12]
MARCH - Alter 100 [3/12]
APRIL - Alter 100 [4/12]
MAY - Alter 100 [5/12]
MIDSPECIAL - Alter 100 [6.1/12] SPECIAL
JUNE - Alter 100 [6/12]
JULY - Alter 100 [7/12]
For other blog series or compilations,
Unspoken - It is called Unspoken because emotions are usually left unsaid, aren't they?
Memento - A story of friendship
It was an empty pleasure just like every hook up I ever had. But you were different. I thought you looked like the man of my dreams – yet I ask myself now if I ever had one – only to find out that everything…was just actually really…a dream. You were a bit of a bothersome but funny, nonetheless. Something I could tolerate. But then I guessed you were the one who couldn’t tolerate me anymore, could you? The blame game started like we were a cliché couple.
It’s not something you signed up for. That point you made so clear I wish I knew how to digest it – like you do mine in multiple ways I couldn’t resist. You were so good at it you could make me come. Hands-free. But then a dangerously unpleasant thought came which I wished I didn’t care to entertain. How many men have you had before getting so skillful at what you brag? Then inevitably, the question backfired. So, I just forget the un/justifiable. The past is such a traitor, isn’t it?
The past is such a traitor, isn’t it?
We met again. I would speak the first words as I always did - that I suddenly developed a list of spiels. How couldn’t I for the several times we meet and made you wait? Forgive and forget. Cliché.
My travel was so hot.
My travel was so hot.
I’m too sweaty, can I take a shower first?
Let’s eat, shall we?
That’s new. You only wore that pants now?
Miss me?
But I can only say these now out of retrospection. It was always spontaneous I’d like to claim. Spontaneously cliché. We would eat at a fast food nearby so we could get it over at your place. The location of your mouthwash has become familiar. Even you already knew, you’d still ask whether I’d want my shower hot. Long negotiation became short for we understood our quirks. Despite the familiarity, I still get confused between your hand soap and dishwashing liquid. I asked you to make them distinct but you never did! And every time we enjoy ourselves, we always end up arguing pathetically over a question we never got over:
We were both in the same grocery isle searching perhaps for the same item, but what did you see in me that made you ask for my number?
28 April 2020
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A monthly exhibition of the Alter world. 2020 watch out!
JANUARY - Alter 100 [1/12]
FEBRUARY - Alter 100 [2/12]
MARCH - Alter 100 [3/12]
APRIL - Alter 100 [4/12]
MAY - Alter 100 [5/12]
MIDSPECIAL - Alter 100 [6.1/12] SPECIAL
JUNE - Alter 100 [6/12]
JULY - Alter 100 [7/12]
AUGUST - Alter 100 [8/12]
For other blog series or compilations,
Unspoken - It is called Unspoken because emotions are usually left unsaid, aren't they?
Memento - A story of friendship
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