The Curious Case

 

[ENTRY 110..✍️]


I stayed at Layla's for two nights this week and on the first morning, I awoke to her very brutal alarm clock that sounded as though we were in "The Purge" film. The contrast was tremendously sharp to the one I hear from my older sister's relaxing nature sound, which made it seem like I traveled realms beyond death and had a taste of how the angels are woken up in heaven, and now the demons in hell. To top it off, Layla snoozed it thrice so I had to listen to it three times as well but I suppose it didn't matter for I never really managed to go back to sleep after the first blow.


The whole episode somewhat reminded me of when my cousin visited the house about a month ago and she and I were alone together late at night. We were in the same room lounging on the same bed, my shuffled music blasting through bluetooth speakers which eventually put me to sleep, and the abrupt change of genre legit made her jump with a start when a mellow romantic song was followed by "The Rumbling".


"I was just peacefully scrolling through my phone, chilling to love songs, when suddenly, the whole house shook when the speaker went all, I don't know.. RARARARARA!!!"


My sisters and I immediately burst out laughing when she tried to imitate the sound in her narration the morning that followed, knowing full well she meant the latest heavy metal opening theme of "Attack on Titans".


"And it was 11 in the evening. Almost had a heart attack."


Going back.. Layla did a permanent lift on my lashes and now my eyes are so pretty! We also watched "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" which had been rotting on my watchlist for years. I tried watching it when I was in 5th Grade, actually, because.. well, it is indeed a very "curious" case. Only, it disgusted me when the protagonist (Brad Pitt) went to a brothel house to exchange flesh with a prostitute and although nothing obscene was shown, the whole idea of it happening just repulsed me altogether because he looked like a very old grandpa and the women there appeared to be less than half his age. Moreover, to my fifth-grade-brain who couldn't appreciate a good storyline and just wanted fast-paced action and magical adventures, I thought the entire film was rather boring so I stopped not even halfway of the half. But having watched it completely now, after so many years, at last, I've finally come to enjoy it in a way that makes one think and reflect.


"If you were given the chance to choose how to age, which would you rather prefer? The natural way or reverse?" I asked Layla when I paused it. (We were pausing the movie a lot because we kept on chatting.)


"Reverse."


"But what of your childhood?" I countered. "Childhood is the best part of my life and I don't think I'd be able to replicate the adventures I had back then had I been a kid as an old woman with weak knees and everything."


"Yes, but while everybody is getting older and gaining wrinkles, you, on the other hand, are getting lovelier and stronger and prettier."


"Hmm.." I considered it for a moment and thought it wasn't at all a bad thing. "Indeed," I softly realized, the pros already bouncing excitedly in my head. "Especially when, say, you're already in your 40's or 50's and you still have the appearance of someone in her 20's and you can date people around that age—or even OLDER, and they'd be so impressed by your maturity and wisdom and how you've got your life—at such a 'young age'—already figured out. Oohlala! That's a fine deception, that one."


And so we both agreed we prefer reverse aging because we are normal human beings and not at all cynical. Besides, it seems to me that it's less agonizing to die when you're a baby. Because in the film, Benjamin's woman looked to be in a lot of suffering when she was in the hospital bed; old, fragile, weak—barely hanging on. Whereas he, who aged adorably and as cute as a button (...ooh! Benjamin Button!), passed peacefully and painlessly. Or so how it looked. But honestly, with that, you can save more space on the ground when you bury them because enfants are tiny.


Me: "I wanna die young, to be honest."

Layla: "Why?"

Me: "So that my ghost will still be pretty."

Layla: "HAHAHAHAHA."

Me: "Like Marilyn Monroe. Just look at her. People don't have any memory of her as an old lady because she's forever young."

Layla: "Yeah. I hate aging as well. I don't want to become all wrinkly so I share your desire to die young."


The second day, I woke up with a whiff of something disgusting under my chin.


"Bitch, I did something gross," I told Layla when she finally roused next to me.


"What is it?" she mumbled.


"I drooled on your shirt…"


A light laugh from her side momentarily filled the room in the midst of her morning sleepiness, followed by the good-natured reassurance of: "It's fine. That'll just be washed."


Why can't drools smell good for once? This is exactly the kind of thing I worry about when I sleep with a guy. Fortunately for me, this embarrassment has never happened yet in the presence of a gentleman.


Oh, wait…


On second thought, it did.


With Patch. When we spent a night at the haunted house. But I wasn't wearing a garment of his nor did I drool on a cloth. It was on my arm and I had my back on him so he didn't see it. Hehe.


I also dreamt of Jay Alvarrez on the night I salivated and imparted the events to Layla. He and I had sex and it was so weird because his genital was, apparently, "artificial", and it was almost a foot in length, shaped like a popsicle ice cream, and made out of pudding. I went down on him and fought the urge to bite it off because dear me, it was delicious. Plus, it was sort of bendable in my mouth and surprisingly comfortable so with this, I thought I unlocked the best way to perform oral because Jay showed all signs of one who's thoroughly pleased and delighted by such an offering as well. It happened in my room and suddenly, we were on top of my bookshelf to finally copulate and I thought in my head it was the weirdest and kinkiest position I've ever done because my skull reached up to the ceiling. He was standing and carrying me, see, to do me from behind. In real life, it would've been impossible because the top of my shelf is only two or three feet away from the ceiling and Jay stands around six feet or over.


The coitus was, unfortunately, anticlimactic. The thought of having an almost a foot-long instrument inside me excited me so, but just like the sex dream I had with Callum, it felt like fucking a marshmallow.


I wonder why I don't get vivid wet dreams with Erwin...

Before I departed to go home, Layla and I showered together whilst a medieval music played in the background because we are a pair of ancient souls walking amongst men of the new age. I wish it's possible to pass some of your bosom to another, though, because the bitch has a massive pair of them and I have.. well. Ahem. This is embarrassing. I'm just saying I think it would be nice to, uhh, add a bit of hers to mine. Cough, cough.


And oh, I also had diarrhea on the same day and it is most awful that I still have it until now.


That would be all for this entry.

Gotta bathe. Tschüss~

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