ONE OF A KIND

It was supposed to be a posting of my story, but I decided to post it on here just to remind me that I can and should continue my story writing :(

This is another story that I was suppose to write into a mini novel of sorts, two stories that were mixed into one, but I never got around it for some sad reason.

Have you ever felt like the whole world is staring at you? Well it was one of those days, and being in a giant bird suit doesn't help either. As much as I pretend that I didn't notice the shy stare, sly smile and wry grin I can't help but to breathe a sigh of relief to the fact that there are no kids on the train today, or else I would hate to give them a nightmare version of the Big Bird of Sesame Street. I found myself drifting away into a world of my own build up of whatever I see in front of me. Every person has a character, a story or a motive. And sad to say most of them involves the nice graphics drawn onto the back of the seat in which I'm facing. It's a scary though indeed, but it kept me occupied for the whole 40 min ride.

Don't look at it the wrong way. This giant bird man once had a dream. He once dreamt of wearing a suit and earning his living making guilty people repent by helping them to escape charges and paying me loads of money in the process. I'm sure they'll remember then that crime never pays. But then he discovered that there were actually some hard studying involved and thus he dropped out half way to discover the wonderful world of drugs, party and short-term jobs. I think this is the reason Jenny left me, she now has her oh so glamorous friends that pretend they are interested in any single thing others say when they're more concern about how to should laugh as the on cue joke, with a small giggle or a full blown laugh. I tried to fit in, Jenny has dragged me through so many functions and balls that I'm permanently stuck with a smile and a fake British accent to make me look more sophisticated. It'll work on a guy with a suit, but when you're in a big bird costume, you're on the right track to having your ass kicked by 15 year olds trying to be black. We argued a lot this past couple of weeks and even our 2^nd year anniversary didn't help much. She keeps on pestering me to move on to a new plateau so our life together would be better. And I don't see why it's my fault. I loved her despite her foolish appearance, pretentious friends and a job nobody wants. Why can't she accept me for who I am? I spent our anniversary with a candlelight dinner, Marvin Gaye on the back ground and a phone call saying she can't make it back for dinner today. Other guys might have flipped out and starts a witch hunt, but I'm adult enough to handle it. In fact, I was so proud that I can handle the situation that I went down to a pub to have a little celebration drink. And to make it really memorable, I proceeded to sleep with a girl I met somewhere.

When you watch the only woman you ever loved struggling to get four suitcases out of the door and having your only friend with an arm around your shoulder while trying to watch the game on the television in your room you know your life is officially ended. As the door slams you could feel the ground moving, and I was left wondering whether this was from the door slamming or Jim from downstairs turning the stereo up again. Dick's attention was already on the T.V but his arm was still around my shoulders, so we stand there for a while looking like a pair of blissful lovers. Dick's cursing woke me up for the spell as I snigger at looking at a 28 year old adult in an I'm-mad-but-I-can't-destroy-anything-because-it-cost-me-money-to-buy-it. He finally went into my room and smashes the pillows on the bed before he realized that I was looking at him as he calms down and turns back at me, "That was for her leaving and stuff, that bitch". I can only nod weakly for approval.

The scream woke me up from my troubled sleep. As instinctely as I looked for the source it was the same with Dick who gave the legendary what the heck look. It's been going like this on and off for the past couple of weeks. The dream remains the same, even though the words changes from time to time. My girlfriend and I were having a nice chat on the bed when the door opens and amongst the glaring light a figure is revealed. As first I thought it was god, well I wish it had been god but instead it was a scorned figure of my fiancée staring at us. I'm starting to think that maybe this is the reason she left me.

Having a guilt trip inside your heart and a bad taste inside your mind is the sort of thing you don't bring to you bed because now you’re turning it into a place you hate. And I like my bedroom. It's the only place that I had total command over. When you move in together, it's an unwritten rule that the place would be decorated by only one person in order not to mess it up and it will always be the girl. I lose my right over a promise of a very, very romantic night in which I would be in control. And sadly to say, it never justified. The problem being she like, no, she loved green. Some idiot on T.V said that green brings chi into the house and from where I'm standing, I'm justified to call him an idiot. The bedroom was the only place I managed to convince her to let me decorate to my liking and even though she regretted that and tries to win back the rights to it, I'm not going to fall for it twice. A worthy adversary though, I'd give her that. I do think that's the reason she never allows anyone to see the rooms. To her it was the pinnacle of man's failure to understand the beauty of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

(I understand the notion that no one will read it, I just had to post it to remind myself that I can write a good story when I'm bothered or forced too, so if you do somehow read it, thanks.)