I Slept Through D-Day and Lived to Tell the Tale

In light of the recent bombing in Glorietta 2, a shopping mall relatively near the condominium building I live in, I would just like to say to no one in particular that I am safe. Thank God. Not that anyone actually cared (or cares), except maybe for my overzealous aunt who also lives in Legazpi Village, but you know, she’s family. And there’s also my mom, but she was busy frolicking in la-la land in PowerBooks in Greenbelt (a shopping complex VERY near the bomb site), and who I had the liberty of informing even when she was practically there at the incident. Then there was my friend Giselle, who maybe called me up just because she needed to vent and talk about the tragedy instead of actually worrying about my whereabouts and safety. There was also my other friend Bogart, but it was very evident from his very brief text message that he was only concerned about gathering facts regarding the bombing. He must’ve thought that since I live in such close proximity to the bomb site that I most certainly knew something about it. Well, too bad, I didn’t. Then there was Julia, who I’m sure felt so warm and fuzzy and loved that we were so concerned about her well-being (since she works in Makati, but not quite as near the bomb site as me), that she only replied to our concerned text messages without even asking about us, or at least not my safety. There was also her boyfriend Vinny who just told me she was okay, without asking if I was too. And finally there was Bianca, who didn’t ask if I was okay at all, but was quick to reply when I told her there was a bombing near my place, and which I was also quick to find out she already knew about, and just didn’t think it necessary to see if I was hurt or anything. I was in contact with a total of 6 people. Only one cared, and well, like I said, she was family. Dear God, thank you so very much for giving me such unassuming and caring friends.

In all actuality, I was supposed to drop by Glorietta that day, for a bout of lunch before a scheduled job interview. But then I fell asleep. In fact, had it not been for Giselle, the first one who called me (and who I actually thought was telling a really bad joke at first), I wouldn’t have woken up at all. I slept through my alarm (which is also why I missed my lunch and being bombed to death) for when I needed to start preparing for my interview, which, incidentally, I also missed.

So here I am, very much alive and kicking, but also very much unemployed. I don’t know which is worse, knowing that I was spared from the bombing of many innocent civilians (so far, 8 died while around 80 got injured), or knowing that I’m able to sleep through anything, maybe even the apocalypse. If one day the world suddenly comes to its end, and everyone suffers his judgment, I’m guessing I’m gonna be that one loser guy who gets left out and misses the whole thing, just because he was sleeping like a baby. Gad, it would be some pretty serious suckage if one day I just wake up alone and everything and everyone has been destroyed. I’d probably cry, miserably and snot-filled, from the cluelessness, and then from helplessness that will eventually follow. How effing sad.

Eh, what the hell. It’s not like anyone cares anyway.

Meanwhile, had the authorites finally figured out what the cause was, if whether or not it was indeed an accident or an act of terrorism? Hell, no. The mall went back to business (except for the section where I assume there’s a huge gaping hole and lots of fallen debris), and we’re all told to resume our daily routines and act like nothing ever happened. Way to go, people in authority.

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~ by iamnotfrodo on October 20, 2007.

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