Player of the Game

Track 23: Indak (Up Dharma Down)

Beatriz.

Where are you, Fel?

I stood frozen by the windows quite astounded by my own musings.

It has been 6 hours since I have attempted to write something for an errand memo. But instead my traitorous scribbles made me write those words, as expected from a fractured soul that I am.

Fractured. Since when did I agree to be this alibi?

Today is the International Day of the Disappeared. The world, basically is celebrating loss and they couldn't be happier to go out into the streets and throw confetti all over the goddamn graves of the unfound.

How dare you.

I turned into a fresh page of my leather journal and succumbed to misery.

I started writing:

The skies are grey and the wind blows rather on a far different direction. I take a leap and drink in the apparent changes around but find myself rather conspicuous about it. I'd rather take a step back and remain to where I am standing than move forward and find no traces of you anywhere.

Where are you, Fel?

I notice my fingers shaking as I write the same question all over again.

It has been years and years and we all haven't heard anything from you.

Have you been happy? Did you finally find what you were looking for?

Did you bring your iPod with you? Have you finally listened to the song you've so long asked of me to finish?

So, did you like it?

Do you sing along with it under the rain?

How is the weather up there anyway?

Did you bring your warmers with you? It's August, knit-wears are everywhere.

I wish I could bring you your favorite Terranova warmers. They now have a bigger store at SoHo, I tell you. Remember how you love their products because they're cheaper and basically more practical than the others? Well, I'm wearing one of their sweatshirts right now and I swear I can see your rather pleased face because finally I agreed to wear one.

I'm smiling really wide right now, Fel. And how I wish you could be here to see that.

I felt my eyes warm up as I dared continue.

This is more than I could bear; of course I know that. The world has had done a pretty good job in scolding me about it.

It's hurting me, but what can I do? She's everywhere. She's all around me: her scent, her laughter, the creases on her forehead, the freckles on her face, those green dots in the center of her eyes... In every cracks and windows of my being, she stayed there.

And I am more than happy to house her there because honestly, right here is where she is the safest.

I miss her so much.

What an understatement.

But I'm tired.

I've been turning into a series of Fall Out Boy songs in such short periods of heavy breathing: sad, timeless and exhausted.

I dropped the pen and settled on my swivel chair. This is when the difficulty starts—the crash of reality settling down into the horizon imposing truths that not anyone can ride on.