It is in the evening. I shut the doors, and with it, the noisy confusion of the world. I drop my bag on the bed and pour myself I cold glass of water. As I gulp deliberately slowly, I ensure to make the loudest throat sounds. The water travels down my throat and I feel my shoulder and chest cavity muscles relax. The activities of the day recede to distant memories of another lifetime, as the tension fades and my heartbeat calms. That is the cue, to remove every piece of clothing and bring down each brick in my wall of social decorum.

This is how my favorite part of the day goes down. Before heading to the shower, cold regardless, I perform twenty press-ups in two sets. In between, I labor to hold my body in elbow and then full plank position for one minute each. After the shower, water droplets trickling down my body, I place a pan of water on the gas to prepare an almost sugarless black coffee and put on my carefully selected playlist. Meanwhile, waiting for the coffee water to boil, I dry myself in front of the mirror, and here is where my normal departs from your expectation.

Naked Buttock Ritual.
I give my back to the mirror, and while straining my neck, watch my reflection as I alternately twitch my bare buttocks. Now the left side’s up, now the right side’s down. Up and down. Up and down, at the rhythm of the background music. Left side’s up, and pause. Tighter and tighter. With all my might I fasten the left buttock muscle, hold in my breath and from the mirror, shift my eyes to the dimple formed on the sides. Then when my lungs cavity starts to ache for oxygen, I exhale, relaxing the muscles. A smirk of satisfaction on my face.

I’m Iconic Movie Star.
The coffee is ready, and while it cools, I have an import thing on my to-do list to accomplish.
“Hey, Hey! You’re leaving?” I imitate Allie’s voice. I turn and hold her; my character is Noah. I wipe her tears, and tell her, “It is alright.”
“No, No! It is not.” She whimpers on my chest as we breath heavily. Then I distance myself from her and look her in the eye.
“I am gonna go.” I say and start to walk away. She grabs my hands, and urgingly pleads, “Come here, talk to me. Talk to me!”
“About what, you’re going away. You’re leaving!” I shout back in desperation. Silence.
I love this scene from the Notebook. In my world I have won several awards, Golden Globe included, for outstanding imitation of my favorite characters.

I Have a Companion to Night.
I light two candles. I place one on the kitchen counter and the other on the table. Then I switch off the lights. The warm yellow light glows on my face. I grip the steamy mug of coffee with my two hands, everything around me is in harmony. The curtain is down, the air still. It’s time for him to visit. He is the longest friend I have ever had. In childhood when I struggled with my introversion identity, he was there for me; in every possible way. Never once did he jeered when I stammered, never once did he ridicule my out of place mannerism. I gave him a name, Vic Vidal, I gave him a face. He gave me the ground to stand on. And then he made himself scarce, only visiting once in a while. But tonight, I feel his presence. Under the secretes of the darkness, he will visit.

The music is now off. The empty mug is set on the table, just next to my current read. In this case, Ndoto ya Almasi, a Swahili novel by Ken Walibora. Still out of the discomfort of clothes, my every inch soaking in the serenity of the still atmosphere, I fill my journal. In it I applaud myself for the resilience I have displayed. In it I pour all the toxicity of the day. In it I let myself loose, and wildly free. After letting it all out, in most cases I either practice my Python Programming or data science. But the probability of ‘most cases’ is slim, so watching comedy as I wait for 0000hrs to take my supper suffices.
©writerdismas

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