live. me. alone

No man is an island. Well, in my case.. I believe if you would have two distinct bold choices, you'll pick the lesser evil. Would you rather live independently staying in your not so distant relatives, who are secretly plotting revenge on you or be with a bunch of high school girls in corporate uniforms.

I happen to chose the later. Living all by yourself can be a form of suicide. If you happen to see the homeless people along Quezon Ave. I'm pretty sure they are the ones who took the risk but has gone wild.

Free will. It's very powerful. You are on your own. You own your life now--not that you've borrowed it from your parents. But parental consent can be so overrated once you've changed your address. You're now expanding your horizons and blending in with the unemployed, booze-loving, urban citizens of your third-world country.

Scary.

On my left, I can see a silhouette of a woman--a fresh from college girl-- holding a slick silver lighter. One click, a flame appeared and simultaneously she made a quick puff igniting the stick. It can't be that bad. She doesn't have a tattoo--at least a visible one.

She winked at me. A small shiver run down my spine. I gulped. Ok, sure. Maybe this won't be as bad as I imagined. She continued with her vice, while I continue to unpack. The doorbell rang.

I opened the door and there she was.. the devil wearing Prada-- or a.k.a the Queen B. Excuse me was the first two words she uttered. I stepped aside while 2 other people entered with luggages and whoah---a larger portable cabinet which I assumed contained books...or knives or....guns. The cabinet was slightly opened. I peeped to see if any of my hunches were correct. But instead, I saw one of two shiny pointed stilletos-- hot pink to be exact.

Perfect.

I heard a loud thud. Another person came in. She was thin but was carrying a massive duffel bag. On her left arm was another humongous luggage. I cannot imagine that such lanky figure can carry such unimaginable load. Seizing me up, she gestured for me to step aside. Her eyes rolled as she passed me by. Two words. Skinny. Bitch.

The silence was so loud you can hear the room breathe. No introductions were made yet. Before making the bold move of breaking the silence (which I was still contemplating on), the land lady appeared. She made a brief introduction of herself--which was mainly about the rent and the whole works. House rules were enumerated and thus making me wonder why I ever left home.

Before she left, she made it perfectly clear that she wants all her tenants to be in good terms. She doesn't expect them to literally act like a Stefford family. To quote-- " I don't want screaming and whining at 2:00 a.m. I don't want anyone to ruin my beauty sleep". I almost fell, from my seat.

Right after the door closed,the silence came back and I suddenly realized that maybe it was up to me to keep the ball rolling. But before I could do that the Q.B. came forward to introduce herself. I was speechless. She said her name. I don't know why I was dumbfounded. It made me felt like I was a kindergarten in the presence of a senior. She asked for my name. I nearly stammered so I cleared my throat and said my full name.

The three let out a laugh, upon hearing my unusual name. S.B.[Skinny Bitch] came forward, extending her hand not for a handshake but to shoo me away because I was an inch away from stepping on the strap of her duffel. The introduction happened afterwards.

And after finishing two sticks of cigarettes, the SS (Sultry Shadow) appeared and said her name.


The unpacking continued while each take turns explained why it's so much better to leave home and live alone. Let's save the story for later. The unpacking continued.

1 unit. 4 unremarkable personalities. At least for now I can say that war is brewing....on who gets which bed and who has first bathroom rights.

As for now, I can say three words. LIVE.ME.ALONE.