Blog Romantica

In search of the Big Boss

..search for the Big Boss

I

up on the tower watching people below

looking into the world

looking from the outside

not belonging to anything, not anywhere, not to anybody

BUT one

who sees through the downcast face

who could catch the avoidant eyes

whom I could entrust my past and my fate

whom I'd kill for to serve,

and perhaps whom I would even die for

Someone, like him

...the Big Boss, himself

For I am his loyal assassin

His most beloved possession.

Thoughtful Flies (copyleft 2007)

While eating at Burger King, an idea sprung from my mind: I want to be an assassin. I had thought about it for an hour or so, until I finished my lunch.

On my way to National Bookstore, I was carefully weighing down my thoughts. I reminded myself outloud (yes, I was talking to myself), that I have to stick to my ultimate goal, no matter what, and that's to avoid, as much as possible, the lure of darkness. Yes, my real ambition is to become good. But part of my brain is arguing, thinking that it's not an ambition.

This is how the conversation is like inside my head:

Brain: Do you really think people would believe you with that ambition?

Me: Why not?

Brain: You think it's normal?

Me: No, but it's worth giving a try. And it's the best I could think of, don't you think?

Brain: Yes, but really, you'd have a big problem dealing with that later on.

Me: Whatever.

When I went in to get an update on books, something happened. Something caught my attention. A book, of course. I had the sudden urge to pull it from the shelf and leaf through its pages. That did it. I felt my stomach jolt into sickness. My mind spun. I rushed out of the bookstore, enraged with envy. Pure envy.

I was insulted.

The world is mocking me. For a moment, I had wished to stop thinking so that I'd cease to exist. And then I'd feel no more.