Your Life is No Life

Your Life is No Life

You wake up and wipe away the drool at the corner of your mouth; pretend it was part of your dream. Only fat people drool in their sleep; not you, you exercise. You blindly feel for your toothbrush in the sink, grasp it, squint to confirm the color is right, it is yours, and start brushing away the grime of your last meal. You spit and look at the mirror—shit, your reflection reminds you of shit. You close the bathroom door in search for some undies and a towel. You ignore your mom’s cheerful mood; mumble a sorry excuse of a “gumornin”.

You skip breakfast, you’re late. Your shower covered more than 15 minutes because the feel of conditioner on your hair is too good to rinse. You grab your allowance, bid a quick goodbye and wait for a vehicle to school.

The trip will consist of some secret romantic story you’re plotting for today—it never happens. A hilarious thought  breaks into the forefront of your mind—you laugh and hide it with a frown. You think about sex and wonder if someone can read minds; you think a command to let said mind readers raise their hand. No one does, you feel safe. You feel the vehicle stop and got down.

You have the sudden feeling of dread for probably leaving your ID at home. You frantically dig up your bag, it’s there, you sigh and look disgustingly smug at the guard. You start your countdown till the end of the day. You remember that friends make school a wonderful place, you ignore your countdown.

You start class with a smile until your professor enters the class and you find yourself with knitted eyebrows. You reconsider the countdown. Your class ends, your butt feels tingly. You go to lunch and wish one hour lasts longer—it doesn’t. Your professor gives you a quiz, you got low, and it’s entirely the professor’s fault. You don’t pay attention in the next class because you are venting your anger of the previous quiz to your classmate. Your professor announces a surprise test, you curse. Your day ends.

Your ride home blanks your train of thoughts. You yell for your mom to open the door because you cannot hold your pee anymore. Your mom is cooking dinner; your undies are almost wet. You take another shower, eat your dinner. You make up your mind whether to brush your teeth or not. You opt not to. You tuck yourself in your blanket and you start imagining your love story for tomorrow, a funny memory almost makes you laugh, you remember your most embarrassing moment and hide under your pillow. Minutes later you are sleeping. Hours later you are drooling. You wake up and wipe away the drool at the corner of your mouth; pretend it was part of your dream.