I then went to the mall and walked around. Entertained myself with deep thoughts of "am I even normal?" while blank-staring at displays. I also enjoyed guessing if people would give me a second look. I am worried the answer to that is yes.
After a few more rounds in SM City Iloilo, a mall so classic I could probably map it by memory, my father called and told me he was going out and that our home being deficient of any other human who can cook (actually, of any human at all), I had to eat out.
Kenny Roger's was vertiginous when I was younger. The smell inside the food chain was enough to burn my insides through my nose. A few years after, I learned to love their version of roasted chicken. So for dinner, I ate this meal:
There was a part during the consummation of my meal that I worried about not chewing the corn and carrot mix properly. What if a chunk of the hard carrot cuts would end up in my appendix? Would I die? And what a sad way to die but bookworms would probably enjoy a title "Murdered by a Carrot".
I went home immediately after I gathered myself in the bookstore.
Unbeknownst to me, the horror that waited inside the walls of my own home. Will I still sleep at night, I wondered. Consumed by thought, I began to sleep - but sleep was then consumed by thought: Is this sleep, or just a false rest, a faux by longing? The argument regurgitated me. The teeth, I'm sure, was my own. (blame the caffeine)
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