People like to talk to me in the elevators, even when my ears are plugged with artistic composition from the demented people who wish to die — they wish to no longer live in this world. I think so. But anyways, people like to talk to me in the elevators, even when my ears are plugged with whatever genres of music my iPod can feed me.
Except for dangdut, i wish that will never happen. Now, ‘Amen’ with me. Please, if you believe in God — even when i don’t — please, after you’re done praying for more banknotes and daily orgasms with pictures and videos from the net, please pray for me. Don’t allow Him to make me less prejudiced towards dangdut music.
Amen now.
A year ago, there was a guy — a cute guy if you believe whatever lies i tell you — who was being friendly to me after he went out from the elevator. Today, there was a black man — a real black man, if you believe whatever lies i tell you — who talked to me when i still had the earphones plugged to my ears. He said;
“Bro, i saw you this morning.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah man. Small,” and made his palms facing each other, and squeezed the air in between with his palms, and said, “small world.”
“Hehehe. You studying?”
“Yeah, SEGi College. Architecture.”
Farah — if she still reads my blog — would have not agreed with him. For Farah believes it’s architorture.
“How is it?”
“Okay after 2 years ..”
After so many years, i still don’t understand why people like to talk to me in the elevators. Not that i don’t like it. I do love talking to random people. But the way they talk, as though they’ve been secretly read this blog.
Now, that’s creepy because i’m prejudiced. I called him a black man. And i wish to never listen to dangdut.
P/S : The black man actually smelled nice. I think i’ve used the same perfume as his. And he’s cool, he did the ‘ebony handshake’ and he said ‘take care bro’.
