She killed him with her apathy

© Jairus Reflections

I am a college girl.

I walk to class every day to save up for my (soon-to-be) Michael Kors tote bag. It’s tempting to hop on the public bus – especially since the weather hasn’t been very kind – but no! Every penny counts.

The wind is cruel. My ears hurt. My fingers are numb. But it’s okay. Michael Kors, Michael Kors, Michael Kors…

“Spare change, please.” A homeless man. I feel sorry for him but then again, it’s probably his own fault. My mother always tells me to study hard, lest I become like the beggars on the streets.

He looks pitiful. I should help. Ah, but I need the money. Every penny counts.

I’m just a college girl; the businessman behind me would probably help.

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I am a homeless man.

During the harshest days of winter, I think that it may be my last day on earth. When night falls, I cuddle up into the sleeping bag that some kind soul gave me years ago. The night is never-ending. But I persevere, and I somehow, somehow make it through.

Despite having done this for years, asking for spare change is still the most difficult thing to do. I never dare to look into the eye of my donor. “Thank you.” I would say, with my head bowed, and my heart stabbed by immense shame.

“Get a job!” They always say. I’ve tried. I’ve tried for years. No one wants to hire a man in torn and tattered clothes. I wouldn’t be here if someone wanted to hire me.

I’m a pathetic, shameful and hopeless man. Someone, please help me.

Montserrat

She said that atop the mountains lies a monastery that would take your breath away. She said that if you stayed through the night and remained extremely silent, you could hear the chants of the Catholic Monks. She said that if you touched the "universe" in the hands of the Black Madonna, a queer, reverential sensation would fall upon you. On our journey up, we were indeed gasping at the beauty of the sacred mountains. When we stepped into the church, the loud chatters of the tourists immediately transformed into surreptitious whispers. When we finally stood before the Black Madonna after a long wait, it was indeed a queer queer feeling. 

It was and it is a beautiful place. And it opened my eyes to the other side of the same faith. What a different world it is out there.

Monologues in her head

(Monologues in her head.)

Stuck.

I’m not stuck in a traffic jam, neither am I stuck in a perplexing mathematics problem of complex numbers.

They aren’t so bad.

I’m stuck in the middle of two conversations. One on the topic of rich people and their vain pursuits. The other on a contentious debate of science and religion.

It’s not that I have an issue with the selection of topics. In fact, I would gladly conduct an extensive research on either of them. It’s just that…  Despite the countless amount of ideas flooding my brain, I can’t seem to find the appropriate time to express them. At least not when everyone is fighting for his or her turn to speak.

I’ve always been fascinated by the ENFPs, ESFPs, ABCDs - whatever. Their ability to speak their minds without hesitation. Their capacity to go on blabbering and blabbering for hours. Their confidence that enables them to shamelessly hog the limelight.

Being stuck in the middle of two conversations – dominated by these highly expressive and extroverted people – makes me utterly envious (the word jealous has too much of a negative connotation) and miserable (so much for my feeble attempt to be positive).

How can they bring themselves to say such dumb things?

(I would never dare to utter a single word without thinking twice, or thrice.)

What makes them think others are interested in what they’re saying?

(I certainly do not want to burden anyone who’s probably not keen in my two cents’ worth.)

Okay. I can’t possibly ostracise myself for the entire time… I have something to say regarding rich people. I’ve got it crafted perfectly. Let’s go!

“Guys, I’ve got something to say. You can’t actually blame them for how they spend their…”

Ugh. How dare that loud bitch cut me off in the middle of my sentence, with that whiny voice of hers! Ahah. Now she’s being cut off. Serve her right.

I’ll try the other conversation.

“Guys, I think science actually reinforces rather than contradicts relig…” Never mind. I’m officially abandoning any attempt to squeeze myself into a conversation…

Everyone is talking, damn it. No one’s listening! How is it even a conversation when no one is actually listening? Except me. (Well, not anymore since I, too, have started talking. To myself.) 

The wonders of Gaudí

Antoni Gaudí. One of the world's greatest architect with 7 of his works declared as UNESCO World Heritage Sites. It was a privilege and an honour to have had the opportunity to witness his architecture in Barcelona.

Casa Batlló

The exterior was stunning. How can anyone be convinced that it was actually someone's home?! Apparently, it was an unpretentious building until Josep Batlló bought it over and hired Gaudí to redesign it. He must have had the shock of his life upon seeing it completed! It's a pity that the entrance fee was so expensive! We had to choose between Batlló or La Pedrera. We went for the latter.

Casa Milà (La Pedrera)
We made the right choice. I, again, cannot believe that this was actually a home. Of a married (filthy) rich couple. The interior was beautiful, but what nailed it was its rooftop! I never knew, or imagined, that someone could do such magic to a rooftop. What was even more impressive was the strategic location of his architecture - there was a particular spot on the rooftop that overlooked not only surrounding buildings but also his most famous work, the Sagrada Família. It must be an immense bliss to enjoy such a picturesque view every day.

Sagrada Família
If Pedrera have yet to take your breath away (I doubt it), Família definitely would. A Roman Catholic church with extremely intricate designs in its exterior - every single carving tells a part of a story from the bible. Although Gaudi embarked on the construction of the building in 1883, it is incomplete till date! (Hence the cranes seen on top of it.) The best part is that the interior is equally as mesmerising!

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Park Güell

Gaudí's works were heavily inspired by nature. Park Güell was the epitome of naturalism. A public park with the perfect amalgamation of man-made and natural features. Yes, we managed to take a picture with the famous salamander (also known as el drac - the dragon)!! (Everyone was fighting for a picture with him.) 

Just when we were about to leave the place, the twins' dad spotted a poor little bird drowning in the pond. That poor guy was shivering from head to toe. We picked him up, dried him up and put him back on land. Hope he's coping well!