with an affirmative tug, he adjusted the cap on his head. the
head that was still swimming.
he looked in the mirror. he pulled himself
straight. ram-rod erect. head
up. a figure of confidence. pah.
the mobile beeped. time to meet a friend to pass
him something.
his toes looked far away when he looked downwards. and
they seemed to be spiralling away further. he looked
up, and again in the reflection of the lift windows, he saw that same defiant
look.
level one. strode out quickly.
“you don’t look
good”
“is it.” “I’m ok.”
he wasn’t. ODed on drinks, he feels overwhelmed.
unbalanced. not sure of
whatever he was doing. but he still had that ram-rod
straight posture.
a façade, his id chided him. a denial.
the superego told him to maintain that posture.
the ego mediated. or tried to.
finally he could hold it back no longer. he had to
tell. and he told his friend. a
short summary. nothing else.
then he dashed off to the bin to puke.
golden brown shower. he felt like the merlion. this morning’s tea.
the initial taste of disgust was then replaced by a strange comfort.
feel better after puking. I’ll puke more later.
the friend’s bus came. they exchanged farewells.
he strode along the path home again. a desolate,
lonely figure. summoning all his strength to face the
world, to face no one in particular. in his eyes
blazed that look of confidence.
in private, he can’t hold it up any longer.
his shoulders drooped.
dejectium out
06
may 2003
1239
hrs gmt +8