I give my neighbors my permission to call me in either of the two code names, the hermit or Yeti. Needless to say their preference for isolation perfectly resembles mine. Well, do they? I don’t know. But still it won’t be hard for anybody who has known me for quite long to liken me to either of the two. Strange? Kind of. Creepy? At times yes. One can argue that the answer should be “always”. Abominable? Maybe. Bigfoot? Size 11, I guess that’s big.

IMG_20130101_203924But now I’m outside our house. Alone. Sitting on a plastic bench beside a cup of choco filipino typing on my phone and enjoying the cold and silent first night of the year with Bon Iver on the background. By that I mean I got my earphones on and their music is playing. A neighbor just passed by quite surprised and probably wondering what I’m doing or who I am. I am your neighbor, I thought. You know that guy playing all the weird music and growling each song? He’s only twenty three years old. Surprise!

Days ago I just saw a funny e-card saying that the giver’s not antisocial but rather anti-stupid. I thought of how I could actually use a printed bunch of those cards but no, at least I’m not mean enough to tell people that I find them stupid. I’m not a genius anyway.

Antisocial, that sounds more like a personality disorder than some simple word to describe a person. And it is indeed the former contrary to how a lot of people around me take it. I am not one. I’m just selective. I’m not fond of cliches. They make me cringe. I could not say that I’m sensible at all times though. It’s just that I don’t talk when there’s no need to talk and daily living very rarely calls me for some. Everybody’s already talking anyway; they should already take care of any requirement for speech.

But I write. That’s how I listen to myself talk. That’s how I communicate my thoughts. I remember writing people letters to tell them how I feel about certain situations. I can actually tell them about it in no more than twenty minutes I suppose, but writing things assure me of completeness not to mention satisfaction.

So I’m sitting here alone under a starless night sky probably making every curious soul wonder what’s with this night that made me go out and expose myself to creatures I probably find loathsome. Nothing much. Nothing more than the peace and quiet that rarely come to our neighborhood. Or maybe state of mind indeed has something to do with it. Maybe nights have always been like this but I just choose to stay in the comfort of our house away from everybody’s eyes. But then again who’s gonna dare ask me? Has anybody ever planned of talking to a Yeti? I doubt it. I doubt if I’m gonna say a word as well. I’ve already written it down. There’s no more need to talk about it. -aB


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