It was a cold summer night, and there I was in the darkness all alone and safely tucked under the warm blankets, listening to Bach’s Fugue, and trying to figure out what to do with my life. It was quite, serene and tranquil, and I might even have seen a halo of an angel. My poor eyesight betrayed me and I was too lazy to reach for my glasses, and just like that I missed my Eureka/Kodak moment. In between those short pauses of changing songs, I could even hear the faint breathing of my next door neighbor Carolynn; an archetype of beautiful callipygian women with a gigantic bosom, twice divorced, and someone who could easily kill scores of young romantics with her sheer sensuality, smile and her high heel booty-jiggling walks in her usual pink nano-skirt. She was like a savior in town who brought joy and fun in our empty life. Her occasional glances would freeze me and I would melt down in time like a burning wax. Part of me would even evaporate and I would float like a feather into the deep abyss of love.

 It was a great night and I was happy like snoop dogg. Even God must have been jealous of me at that moment in space and time, as suddenly the peace and calmness was shattered like a broken glass, and one of the precious moments of my life was interrupted and destroyed with the raucous sound of the “Jingle Bells Fart Song” emanating from my cellphone that I downloaded last week. It was loud and every inch of me hated the sound even though I spent hours finding it. My heart was thumping with fear and self-loathe because I cared so much about my neighbor. I prayed for almighty lord to make it stop ringing because my apartment wasn’t entirely soundproof and I hated that since I was a good neighbor. I even resisted the deepest of my deepest urge to bother her. Several times I resorted to bear the stench of my own silent farts as I could never make one of those audible adjustments and annoy her.

 How little did I know that such a beautiful song could one day be my pain and misery? I felt pity for my fallacy and gullibility. But I resisted every bit of temptation and urge, let along the ear-searing shrill sound, because I was suddenly hit by a barrage of several existentialist questions. Who am I? What is the purpose of my life? And so on. Like a gladiator in a colosseum, I had no choice but to listen to my head and tackle those questions one by one. Lady luck was with me and the victory was on my side. It started well and my average was pretty good. All of a sudden I heard a hoarse groan and some familiar voice. It was distinctly familiar and slowly the sound crept towards the direction of my room. I was in a middle of conundrum and I couldn’t comprehend the situation let alone come up with a rational action. I lay still holding my breath tight and like a nuclear bomb my room exploded, my happiness crumbled like a clichéd house of cards, and my world went upside down. A villain had marched in my room and had turned the lights on. Angrily, he reached out for my phone. Luckily he didn’t eat it. Rather he just turned it off, and threw an angry glance at me which I didn’t see. I was already high on adrenaline so I had anticipated the situation and had kept my eyes shut pretending to be asleep.

 That villain turned out to be my roommate. He banged the door shut and left. I felt like drinking some water but my senses told me that I could survive a day or two. I felt like taking a piss but I was too tired to get up. And I was still there in the darkness all alone and safely tucked under the warm blankets, listening to Bach’s Fugue, and trying to figure out what to do with my life. And not an inch did I move. I am nonchalant and persistent as a rock.  And it is a virtue.