> Killjoy
Boredom kills me. I woke up each day in the flashy tone of my cell, took a two-minute tooth brush and a gargle of mouthwash, undressed while humming "Jumbo Hotdog", and at the last minute checked all the door locks and windows before I breath the boredom air. I have a daily dose of boredom that its taste actually became my breakfast, filling my empty stomach and plugging the vacuum in my mind. I am so bored I usually spent times thinking why I am bored and got bored again. I sensed it kills me slowly, surely yet in a boring way.
Instant noodles are killers. I have mastered the art of cooking them; it is quite complex yet everything is written in the package. You boil water for 2-3 minutes while thinking how many microorganisms were alive prior to the boiling process. Then you place the instant noodle to the boiling water until tender, of which you then place the seasoning, egg, and vegetables. The last two items are optional and are not included in the package.
They say that one pack is enough to feed one family; the TV ads say that a single serving contains some nutrients essential to combat cancer, to become healthy, smart and tall, and somewhat contributing on having a fresh breath. It tastes good and nourishing and oftentimes I wondered how magical this meal is. I enjoyed cooking and eating, it made me better everyday. It made me forget my killing tendency. And it kills me.
Killing is my constant dream. Someone stabbed my back with a knife made from Tabaco City and it’s too late when I realized my left hand is the suspect. I once got drank and broke my head when I slipped in the floor with my own gag. I drove pass the “do not entry” sign and fell in a 100-feet terrain. I got poisoned by my own cooking. I slashed my throat when I’m desperate enough to find the secret of having a golden voice. I killed myself many times thinking of million of ways to kill boredom.
I am really bored. It kills me indeed.
