the clog

The miracles of Ramadhan...

A couple of hours ago I finished an iftar dinner with my extended family. My brother invited them all together... apparently, it's some sort of tradition to invite your extended family to break Fast together. My mind is still trying to recuperate from the effort of trying "to fit in" with the rest of the family. It is difficult to say the least. For one, I dislike most of them (despise is too harsh a word, but at times it may be appropriate). Secondly, they see me as a sort of enigma, a piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit in. And I agree with them. Anyway, after an excruciating hour of smiling madly and nodding at the inanities of my cousins an aunt approaches me and asks me what I plan to do for raya. I never plan that far ahead and told her so.

Aunt: Oh? Why don't you come to Kelantan and visit the family?

At that point a little voice in my head starts screaming frantically at me. I suspect that it's my more logical half

Mental Rumoku: Oi! Are you bleeding insane? This last hour almost killed you! Your braincells are running into your bowels! Stop this madness before it's too late!

I concur completely. But for some reason my lips utter: Okay, seems like a good plan.

I seem to live for self abuse.

Mental Rumoku: Oh...my...God! YOU DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT! Take it back! Aaaaaargh, you festering nincompoop! I piss on your medula oblongata!

After that I spent the next hour curled in a protective ball in the corner of the living room. There's no way I can take back what I said because EVERYBODY seemed to find out about my decision within 30 seconds of it being said. But I still have hope: Ramadhan is said to be the month of miracles. Maybe if I pray real hard a stray meteor will fall from the sky and pulverize me into atoms. Hey, it could happen...

Rumoku out!