After an exhilarating night out with the girlfriends (ok, it was just one girl and two gays) I decided to go to Malate for a nightcap. I chatted with the regulars, said hello to the waiters, smiled at the cigarette vendors... and found my usual seat outside by the entrance. I like al fresco evenings in Malate, especially after a downpour. Reminds me of Lingayen, Pangasinan... you know, bagoong of the fish variety.
Into my third gulp of cold, San Miguel Strong Ice, this kid, who I vaguely know but did recognize, comes over to buss me, I offer my cheek so as not to offend the zealous wannabe, after the perfunctory beso-beso, he asks in all contrived concern: "Why are you so lonely?"
Moi?! Lonely?!
Just because I go to a bar alone doesn't mean I'm lonely. Just because I don't hang-out with oodles of friends doesn't mean I'm lonely. Just because I prefer to bask in my thoughts than engage in small talk doesn't mean I'm lonely.
Loneliness is cluelessness. You, idiot! You don't know me from Adam to even presume I'm lonely. We've never met on a level for you to make any conclusion with regards to my emotional well being. You don't even have an iota of discernment to feel where I'm coming from, who I am, my thoughts, my feelings, my background.
Loneliness is trying to fit in when you're obviously a square peg in a puzzle of (well) rounded individuals. Get a life and the experience that comes with it, you dodo!
Loneliness is you in your skinny jeans (so last season), your over-lathered-with-hair-products hair, your fake laughter, your breath in bad need of mints. Your eagerness to belong. Anywhere.
Leave me in precious solitude with my cold beer as I contemplate being alone in fetid Manila.
Have you ever read Thoreau? No, wait, do you even know how to read?
Scram!
