After watching several episodes of the detective series called “King”, I decided to hit the road.
Told my cousin I was heading out and she asks if I was going sight-seeing or to pick “some” – hmmn – up. I knew she was joking, so I said yes, but on the condition that I can bring “them” home. I laughed. The only feeling they arose in me is pity and sometimes sadness. Because though they individually chose to stand by the side of the streets, it is a hard life, and I can’t but wonder at the regrets they cover up with mascaras; at the tears under the pancake; at the hope and innocence that have been lost and forgotten.
Got in the car and went over the bridge into Ikoyi. Briefly thought about going over the third mainland bridge, turning round at the other end, then coming right back.
At some point Shalamar’s “Friends” came up on the radio – just the song to feed my blues.
I smiled as I listened.
I drove randomly around the side roads in Ikoyi until I was completely lost. Just like I wanted. It’s Friday night. I remember sending “condolences” to a facebook “friend” a Philiphino lady I had somehow become “friends” with on facebook. She had posted earlier today something along the line of “Six days after buring her dear brother. Feeling so lost”
I put on the GPS, and punched the “Go Home” icon.
Then George Michaels’ “Careless Whispers” came on. I was soon singing along with him. The wordings were appropriate at times.
Maybe the next time I am “out”, I may just go for that short drama course, or the voice training one – at least I can get a professional to tell me definitively never to sing again – whether in the shower or not, alone or not, and never ever to frighten the neigborhood cats on a moonless night with my attempts at Opera (just joking)
If you are reading this, I hope it’s not tonight. Otherwise I would assume you are just as bored as I am, and that’s no place to be on a Friday evening.
Made a few detours but I am back home. Maybe I should wonder what the rover is doing at this moment on Mars, or what that particular individual sitting in the big monitoring room among several other people is thinking about while doing his bit monitoring the progress of the latest rover that’s approaching Mars even as I write: is he thinking of his bills; his wife; his in-laws; his life; who knows. But no matter what, he is part of the universe at this point in time.
So I will watch a few more episodes of King, then call it a night.
And to the randomness of it all, nope, not correct. After all, I made a sequence of choices or decisions: Ikoyi rather than third mainland; drive rather than stay indoors; listen to the radio instead of my own heartbeat.
And the reason I stepped out? To get away from my thoughts for awhile? Unsuccessful: they followed me everywhere I went.
And I remember as I stepped out, going through my mind was the following:
“The boundaries are drawn”
“The boundaries are drawn!” said the man at the gates.
“But where are these gates that I may go through them?”