Skip to main content

The Slap

The liar  

People are idiots. You tell them what they want to hear. You use them, you lie to them, you manipulate them, easy, pliable. And you... You get what you want. Isn't that what life is about? Getting what you want? I always manage. I don't have friends, I mean there are people, I guess, they consider me close to them. But how much do you need from them really.

I walk toward one of them. She is sweet, easily manipulated, a little clingy and one world class idiot. She is everything I hate about people, pliable. But I am good at what I do, can't blame her completely for her ignorance. She hugs me. She smells like papaya. It's the darn shampoo she uses. She has already started talking, a mile a minute. Irritated by people in her life, going on about how she hates people. I want to shout at her, if she hates people, why get around them, why be close to them. But no she needs them. Stupid girl. But she is easy, she helps me out with everything.  She does my work for me, makes my presentations, teaches me stuff I don't feel like reading, listens to me when I am annoyed or frustrated with life. She is like putty in my hands. So what if I have to tolerate her for a little while. She keeps talking and I pretend to listen. She will hit me the next time I say that I don't remember what she said.   

My other "friends" come toward us, I am a little relieved. I don't have to hear her whine and I can still get her to have dinner with me tonight. I will be a little bored without any company. They start talking about some crappy plans tonight. I am glad they are doing it in front of her, she will know why I have to break our date. I don't bother listening, they love me too much, they wouldn't make plans without me. I guess I wouldn't have to hang out with this clingy bitch. People, they can be so fickle. I love that about me. She is looking at me in a weird way. God, why did I even bother with this chick. I raise my eyebrows. "What?" The slap comes out of nowhere.  

The believer  

People are idiots. They tell you what you want to hear. They use you, they lie to you, they manipulate you, make you feel so easy, so pliable. And you... You give them what they want. Isn't that what life is about? Losing? Not me. I don't let people manipulate me. I have a few close friends and I trust they wouldn't hurt me.

I walk toward one of them. He is sweet, extremely charming and one of the least manipulative people I know. He brings out the very few things I love about people, honesty. I hug him, he smells of sweat, gross, he never uses deo. I start talking as soon as I let go of him, I am annoyed at the world. Paranoid about the large number of people in this world who are out to get me. I tell him how although people can get extremely annoying you need them in your life. That it is one of those love hate relationships you possibly cannot get out of. He is such a good listener. He just has a really short term memory. Sometimes I feel like I owe him a lot, so I help him out with his work, I love listening to his problems and helping solve them. I secretly have fun with that.  

I see his guy gang approach. I am very relieved. I didn't want to bum him out with my nauseatingly long preaching about how people suck. I will make it sound a lot less melodramatic when I am in a better mood, I can talk to him over dinner. His friends have come over and they start talking about plans tonight.  I look over at him, I know he is going to cancel plans with me. I sigh. It has happened before. I wouldn't let it bother me. I smile at one of his friends. Who suddenly looks at me and nudges another. What was going on. They start making fun of me, something about having done some work for him, I hear the words manipulated, easy, boring, clingy. My mind begins to reel. What had I missed. I look over at him, I can see it on his face now, annoyance, irritation, lies, manipulation. Am I that fickle to change my mind about him? I hate that I am so fickle. Then on his face... Nothing. Blank. Everything was hidden. I was wrong, all along. He raises his eyebrows. "What?" Hatred pours through my veins, the slap comes out of nowhere.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Blink

  The criminal I look at you. I remember I gave you the chance to break me. I didn’t leave, when I knew I should have. I stopped you when you were about to leave. I let myself be bruised. I blink to see if there are any tears in my eyes. I remember the last time. I had thrown it at you, that book that I had painstakingly made as an anniversary gift. I had thrown it at you, hoping, hoping that you’d see it and you’d know what we were losing. I had begged for forgiveness from you, craving for something I knew we had no way of getting back. I had blinked just hoping the pain would go away. I remember when you had told me that you wanted to be with me forever, when you had promised forever. That blue checkered shirt, with its sleeves folded up, the smell of my favourite deo, the half eaten plate of chicken wings, and that playful yet perfect smile. I had blinked, just to make sure that I captured the moment.  I remember when we had first met, how you’d sat across from me, just wai...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Thought of Words

The writer   It was the words that came to me in free flow. Every sentence well articulated, well written. The words forming thoughts that I have never really understood. I wrote of love, hatred, anger, hunger, pain, regret; without truly knowing what it meant. People laughed, cried, smiled, smirked; on reading what I wrote. But my mother, she never understood. "Think," she'd say, "use your brain." I would be pushed a math paper toward me and would be asked to solve it. That was my life growing up. But words, words were my friends. They brought me pleasure.   I had woken up to the smell of paper burning. There in my room my waste paper basket had been on fire. My mother, standing near it, in her night gown, tears flowing down her face, had been feeding the flames with papers from my desk: my stories, my poetry. The flames had licked them all, tasting my precious words before deciding to swallow them whole. I had watched them burn, and I had let out an inaudibl...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Jump

Happiness Maybe, just maybe, it is time to give up. I mean, sure, the girl next door lost both her parents to COVID 19. Sure, my family is alive and well and I’m so grateful for it. Sure, I have a lot of love in my life. Sure, I have a great job that gives me time and money. But maybe, it is time that it gets over. When I’m at my peak, when life is at a high and there’s no fall that I can see ahead.  Maybe, just maybe, they won’t miss me as much. Maybe they would understand that it wasn’t sadness at all. I was happy, I am happy and isn’t that what stories always told us? To have a happy ending? Why wait for another moment of sadness? Why wait for another heart break? Why wait for an interruption to my perfect life, when I can be happy and just give it all up. Maybe, just maybe, this jump might not be my last. Maybe, I am so happy that I might defy all odds and fly! This height isn’t that scary. And I’m happy, I’m so happy. I take the jump with my eyes closed and a smile on my face....
Post a Comment
Read more