After my band's practice yesterday at around 6:00PM, I went to Malate to do some errand for my mother when I passed by someone from our neighborhood, someone who I really didn't know personally but knew by face. I'll just call him JC.
JC used to look remotely normal and good, in fact, he was supposed to appear as an extra in some local TV show back in 1996 but he didn't like the idea of being an actor and didn't bother attending his screening for the part. How the fuck did I knew about this? It's because I had this feverish crush on his younger sister that's why.
JC is about 3-4 years older than me and I can safely guess his sister's right about the same age as I am (25). When you're 13-14 years old and extremely smitten with a girl in your neighborhood, it's automatic that you learn things about her, about her interests and of course, her family. I guess that's all I have to say about that.
JC didn't look his age. He had hair that looked liked the one Mel Gibson had in Braveheart sans the dread-like parts (shit, I'm not even sure if those were dreads). JC's appearance gave away his smell and it screamed intensely rancid. The funny thing about seeing him yesterday was that I didn't recognize the motherfucker right away which is very not like me as I remember faces of people very clearly. He was sitting on a plank across the base of an electric post on a corner in Malate and he was actually the one who greeted me first and it probably took me about 3 seconds to recognize him. I was surprised that he greeted me but I wasn't really surprised when he asked if I have some loose change. Being the thrift fucker that I am, I quickly said I didn't have any (that's why I was walking) and he nodded morosely then followed his question with another one: where was I going? Thinking quickly, I answered him I was on my way to borrow money from a friend. An expression between disappointment and sadness peppered with a lethargic glee came across his face.
I knew the drugs have gotten him. Whatever his drug of choice was, it certainly did its job wonderfully.
After my brief encounter with JC, the thought that got stuck on my mind like a fly to fresh dogshit was his sister. I haven't heard the term back then but now I can describe that JC's sister to whom I've had the hots for was drop-dead gorgeous. Drop-dead fucking gorgeous.
After I remembered her, I silently hoped to myself that she's doing well and good. The Past sometimes has a wicked sense of humor. The thought brought a smile on my face and quite admittedly, smiling is something I haven't done a whole fucking lot lately.
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