Hello Me

this is a story about a boy

around ten years ago, a boy of eight thought, "who am i ten years from now. will i still look the same. would i still act the same way as i do now? will i still like the same things? will i still hate the same things? what would change of me? will i still be me?" then the boy thought, "if i meet my self when i'm eighteen, what would i say to him?"

"hello me."

the boy look behind him. he saw this man, he wondered where he had seen him. he looked so familiar yet so strange. the boy began thinking, "who is he? is he talking to me?"

"yes, im talking to you. i am you."

suddenly, the boy got scared. he was sure he never spoke a word yet the strange familiar answered his questions. "how did he do that?"

"simple, i had been in your position ten years ago. i remembered everything i felt the first time i met you and me."

still in shock, the boy could not believe. he have been a wide dreamer but never he thought a dream like this would come.

"it is because this is not a dream."

gathering all his guts, the boy manage to speak. "hello... me...?"

"ha ha ha"

the man laughed. a laughter the boy knew so well. for it was his. then, he started laughing with the man who calls himself you. the boy asked the man, "if i am you ten years from now, do i still, i mean, do you still, i mean, do we still like the same things and do we still hate the same things?"

"find out for yourself."

the boy began thinking about things he like. he thought of cartoons.

"i'm not that so much fond of cartoons. but i still do watch them.'

the boy said, "that's strange, i will always be fond of cartoons."

the man just smiled.

then the boy said, "how about playing? if i am you, i'm sure you still play taguan (hide and seek) and other street games."

"i still do play but on very rare occassions. only when time permits."

"what do you mean 'time permits'?"

"i have better things to do than play taguan or any game for that matter. there are works to be done. scholl duties to be finished."

again, the boy thought this man is indeed strrange for he had sworn to himself that he will always have time to play. then he said, "how about food? if i am you, i'm sure you don't eat vegetables. they're yucky."

"actually, i still hate some vegetables. but i managed and learned to eat them during college."

a scratch from the head was the boy's reply. he would never eat those things. his parents would always have to bribe or force him to eat the food, or so they think. he had devised methods on cheating on his parents like not swallowing the food and spitting it afterwards or tricks like telling his parents that he will eat it at the living room then throwing it at the dog house once they're not looking. but he always managed to get himself caught. realizing that he had been thinking too much, he told the man, "do you still cry out loud whenever our parents, especially papa beats you or me so that they would turn soft and spare you?"

"i dont get beaten anymore. it's worse than that. if they get mad, i have to suffer their unending litany of criticism. yada yada yada..."

"isn't that better than getting a belt hit your butt?"

"when you grow up you'll understand."

the boy smiled. he knew he'll never understand. then he said, "hey mister, i have to go now. sorry if i can't stay any longer. bye! nice meeting yah!"

"bye me."

humping around the boy laughed. he laughed from the heart like he had never laughed before. He had just found out that the man he was talking to was not himself. aside from the obvious reason that it is impossible, he was so sure of himself that he will never change. he will still like cartoons and play games at the street. he will always hate vegetables and getting scolded. He will never tell anyone about the psycho he just met. he'll just get rid of him from his mind.

from a far, the man watched the boy. he smiled. then his phone beeped.

message:
from: boss
u nid 2 get bck in r wrld.
f u mis it, ul be stuckd
ther 4 a long tym. call
ths # 2 get hir.
end of message

then his phone rang. his boss is calling. he pressed the switch to turn it off.

"at least something never changed. i'm still as stubborn as before."

signing off...

what is going on my mind right now

my brain is dying from migrain. all senses of mine are malfunctioning. but why the hell am i still writing this stupid words coming out of my collapsing psychotic brain? because i want to. i just want to. after living this day, i am glad i am about to rest. works for the day is done and by my own free will, at last, i could just lay down and play dead. wait. could i actually do that? no. there are things i still have to complete before i rest, missions still yet to be accomplised. departure from the real world is not now but later. why do people have to do what they have to do if they know for a fact that they are gonna die one way or another? is it because they have to do that in order to live? but if that is the case, then why do people have to do what they have to do just because they want to live knowing they're gonna die? is it because they want to live for pleasure? but if that is the case, why do people have to do what they have to do even if they do not like it just because they have to do that in order to live even though they know that they will die just for their own pleasure? isn't it contradicting if you're gonna do something you do not like just to be happy? i guess it all falls back on which what you want more. prefer choosing what you do not like just to have what you want or choosing not to do what you do not like even sacrificing what you want. pepole, this is about doing and getting what you want. what you want is what is important. but that is not that simple. facts like "things not being meant for you" or facts like "this is not the right time" always comes up. i know i am talking nonsense right now but this is what i want. even though this infected thing inside my skull is against what i want. i still keep on doing this. just for the pleasure of living

or maybe...

i am just out of my mind rigt now.

signing off...