Saturday, February 05, 2005

A late night soul-bearing session with Pam led me to discover that I am what I vaguely suspected for the longest time. I am sick—in the head. As in, I "am crazy and have dementia."

My stalking activities have gone from the interesting type of stalking to do-you-want-lawsuits-hit-you-in-the-head. Yeah… I’ve been that pathetic.

Pam, who knows of my Friday night “hobby” (It’s got to be a Friday because it’s Mela’s day-off which means I could either go home early or do something constructive like following him around the metro) consoled me and said that everyone at one point of their lives becomes a stalker.

By stalking, she meant searching for a name in Google. Well, I’ve gone beyond search engines.

Last night, which is probably my second weak attempt in stalking, paranoia got the better of me.

I hid my car from plain sight and parked it in a dark street near the building where he worked. I couldn't congratulate myself more for picking the perfect spot.

I waited for him to come out of the building. After ten minutes of waiting, he did not disappoint me. He hailed a taxi and I turned the ignition of my car.

But after a few meters from where they took off, the car stopped. The whole purpose of stalking is to follow someone, right? So I had to stop too.

The taxi moved, and I moved too. Then in the middle of the road, it stopped again. And it refused to budge another inch. As if it was telling me, “I know you’re a maniac, now stop dogging me and leave me alone!”

This was the part where I panicked out of my wits. I found a spot and parked my car in a driveway where the guard tapped my window and asked me what was going on.

I daren’t open it and explain myself because I remembered the last time I opened my window on midnight it cost me my Nokia 3650 cell phone, my favorite red handbag, and my driver’s license. I also prayed that “Oh God, please don’t let them suspect anything.”

Thankfully, when I backed out, the taxi was gone. So was my peace of mind.

After that, I had to promise to my good friend Ellson that I had to lay low for a while and do not do anything crazy or drastic.

I will stop pining for men I can’t and will never have.

Because I am a fag hag, I will be suspicious of the next man I fall for. The mere fact that I fell for him should be enough to give me inkling that he’s gay.

I should stop being jealous to people, especially if they’re male and over the age of 20 whenever they approach him.

And finally, I should get a life.

Really, actually having one would probably help me recover.

Ohmygod! He smiled at me! And he started a conversation with me! Ohmygod! I am sinking fast again. Perchance he suspects nothing...

I'll postpone my stalking activities till next next week.