Perfect World

It stopped raining, finally, but it started snowing.... worse. It has been snowing for 2 days now, and it is ridiculously cold. It is overcast in the past 48 hours but it is not really sad. Instead, the clouds look like chunks and chunks of explosives that wait to explode at any given moment. I felt the energy hiding behind those clouds, dangerous and fetal. So, with the snow, Wisconsians sign, Californians scream. I walked into the classroom and they took at look at me and turned around to continue their conversation on the snow, in English, as if I was the only one in the room who doesn't speak English. Fine, whatever, they always do that to me. I am used to it by now. It must be strangely disturbing to talk to someone who wasn't born in the States while somewhat speak this language.

Miss Seattle was late, as usual. As she walking across to the room I was telling myself that she would sit next to B, then take out her lipstick and the tiny mirror, then the Avian water bottle; she would greet the Mr. Wisconsin next to her and the Californian behind her. I watched her sat down next to B, displayed her makeup kit, took a sip of the Avian and said hello to two of her friends in the class. I smiled. Human being are sometimes so predictable it is boring.

I kept switching my cell phone on and off since last night. A CDD thing? A revenge? A punishment? A well intended closure? No idea. I hate people who make promises and don't keep them. I always image cutting out their tongues with my Swiss army knife and then take out their wind pipe. I am not usually a violent person. What is the point of talking? Why bother speaking to me if all they did was spiting out void syllables? Why bother taking the time and energy? For the time being, they could have find a fine sex partner and have a fucking good afternoon. So, why bother? Homo sapiens. We can be pathetically hypocritical.

Lunch time. I was picking through rice with my fork. I wasn't hungry.

«So, how did it go? Did you talk?»

«What? With whom?»

«You know…. Your…. I don't know… someone that you know… an aquatint?» she raised her eyebrow. It was easy to label this person.

«Oh yeah…well, sorta.»

«So?»

«I don't know. It is gonna end soon.»

«Why? What did you say? What did you talk about? Was there any misunderstandings like you had thought?»

«No. Everything was actually fine. But, it is coming to an end, I just know. We are intuitive creatures.»

She nodded. Neither of us said a word for the rest of the lunch.

Library. I was trying to redo my applications because apparently I filled out the wrong form. I've got to get them in before the deadline…. Suddenly my cell started vibrating. I gasped, and dropped my pen. OK, it was P. «Coming over for lunch tomorrow?»

«Sure, thanks. Would you like me to bring anything?»

«Nah, just your laptop, we can watch a movie.»

«OK, see you tomorrow then.»

I needed a smoke right after that, so bad. Downstairs, against the strong wind, I took a long drag from my cigarette. It takes 7 seconds for the nicotine to reach the brain and start spreading its poison, but those 7 seconds seemed like an eternity. In the past few days, I had only two things in my head: «Every you and every me» by Placebo and «Fragile» by Têtes-Raides.

Home. Finally home. It was 10:47pm. I laid on the floor and stared at the ceiling. There is a crack on it, not very big, but long, and that makes it obvious. I had the strong desire to tear the ceiling apart following this crack because then, you will have two pieces, but each piece would be perfect.