i feel comfortable. i feel uncomfortable. i do not feel the same.

of Ruvim Noga

It crawls under my skin like a familiar blood in veins. It drinks the vigor that lives in my body and tells my mind about how lying works. I snatch the bundle of papers I set aside earlier this week and notice the same underlined words. The progress stops at the last sentence of the first paragraph on the second page of the 25-page reviewer. The final exam looms until it shows itself this week. It is Sunday today and I do not have anything on my mind, but excuses. Perhaps I will fail this exam.

The words clutter themselves as I try to digest their comprehensive connotations. The basic idea I have learned so far is how the quantity demanded falls as the price of a good rises. Or how it rises if the price falls. I am quite sure I have read the right material for this topic. I am confident I have written the correct idea. But after the first page, I flip and see a new set of topics to learn aside from what I have studied. I suddenly think of the fiction books I was bound to finish. I put aside the Economics papers and pick up the fiction book.

The story talks about the serenity of an affair, far from the world, financial and economic crisis and their foundation. I flick the pages with ease and excitement, trying to find my way at the end of the story. After a few hours, I finish it. It was not as satisfying as I thought it would be, but it quenched the thirst I had for reading. I stretch my body and the bundle of papers beside the book catches my attention. They look at me again to remind me of my exam.

Sometimes, I ask myself if I am in my right disposition. Since it does not make me feel gratified at all, I am sure I am on the wrong planet. But why do I still continue? Perhaps to prove myself I can mold myself into anyone for anything, or to tell myself it is what the world wants unlike the realm I create in my head.

It feels restricting and suffocating, but somehow there is a sense of warmth that seems indescribable. I read all the numbers in written form and their accompanying explanations, and I can sense a wide smile on my lips as I grasp the thought. Though the strong pull of the manifested realms I have tried to shelve breaks the barrier and whispers into my ear, “why do you paint yourself in a presidential coat and tie when your body rests in plain white shirt splashed in technicolor?”

I run where the water flows. I become the obligation my passion despises. The choices I have made embrace my stiff body as the fireworks in my heart mock my actions. No longer the old picture, I feel comfortable. I feel uncomfortable. I do not feel the same.

I pick up the Economics papers and read the second page. I grab my red colored pencil from its case. I highlight the essential ideas I should understand. I do not understand them, but I know I should. At least, I had better try.


Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.


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