Monday, April 9, 2007

The Night
It's 11:17pm, and Polaris might just die of boredom. There he sits, both feet on the chair, eyes half-closed, listening to the TV behind him and giant robots clashed with prehestoric alien beasts. Polaris had just finished from a frantic and fantastic session of Unreal Tournament 2004, a 3 year-old videogame that still rocks till this very day, especially with the new mods he downloaded.

Living in Beirut is pretty dull; nothing ever changes, people go on with their lives like any other day, ignoring each other, smelling bad, the usual. The only time someone stops to talk to Polaris would be to take cheap statistics or surveys about the political situation. The conversation always goes like this:

Person: "Hello sir, can I talk to you for a second?"
Me: "Of course you can, you got a tongue don't you?"
Person: "...yes sir, but I'd like to talk to you about the political status of the country-"
Me: "Sure go ahead and talk, but I ain't gonna listen to it."

At which point the person usually buggers off and Polaris keeps walking. Sure that may be a bit rude, to say such things, but so is a smelly obnixious person who forces someone to take a survey.

Polaris scratches the itch he has on his right arm and cracks his knuckles. He'd just finished with a drawing he'd been working on... well, not exactly finished, still needs some shading and final touches. Polaris would appreciate opinions though.



Actually, this is a character from a book Polaris has been desperately trying to find time to write. At any rate, Polaris sighs and checks the time. 11:27pm. Still not much to do, still boredom seeps in... at least until Polaris remembers the incident where he was doing some rennovation along with some friends from a University extracurricular club. They were digging a bit of ground to level it, and one of Polaris's friends, a female about his age, lifted the shovel above and accidentally hit the Rev. (the guy in charge) on the head.

The laughter shared by all the participants! The Rev. was ok and unhurt apart from a bump, but the girl felt so awful. We called her "Rev. Killer" from there on in.