Cogito, Ergo Sum

Prose by Charles Owen G. Apostol Line Art by Mauries Jan-Ace Avenio

It's easy enough to slip the skin. It would only take a second. It could be so soon and so sudden. That evening, an unknown person came to me and in a blink of an eye, he occupied my abode. Although I have not met him, I know for a fact that it will not be exactly as it is supposed to be as I don’t know his intentions nor know how long this person will stay with us and if he is staying for the good or the bad.

This reminds me of our odd and unpredictable neighbor who was a missionary. Everyone thought that he was something to be looked upon. Each time he opened his mouth, he was becoming thoroughly likable to the elderly. In fact, during mornings, the adults engage in tittle-tattles as they listen to far-fetched preaches that made him look like a saint. It was as if no blood ever tainted his clothes.

Their laughs and awes were heard near the window. As I began to shut it, I gazed thoroughly and listened to their conversations instead. I closed my eyes and pondered: “Why is he that likable? Are these people that gullible? Is our community in a better place now that he’s here?” Or did he become that amiable as his preaches were new to our town that they forget they are Catholics?

Each day after that encounter, I feel like I’m turning into a different person. Perhaps, an overseer to myself. I can be quite eloquent when I talk but can be lethal when the night approaches. The madness can be seen through my mouth as I speak. I think, therefore, the greatest form of flattery is treachery. Until the day I become likable, that man will sit right in front of me, not to preach but to listen.