Dear Alexander, I wrote something for you.

This started out as a Daily Prompt post. It turned into a post dedicated to an ex-classmate who just left for his hometown in Bintulu. His name is Alexander Soo.

Two minutes after leaving the house, I begin to sweat.

Every time I exit that house located on the corner of the street, I have to open two gates. It is troublesome considering how the landlord was reluctant to spend a few hundred dollars on a far more sophisticated electric gate. She thought it would be cheaper to double the number of locks. I think she’s trying to cut corners but it’s fine because majority of the people in this country just love to cut costs whenever possible. I wish she spent more like the government but overspending would be alarming. In an optimist’s perspective, maybe the landlord thought increasing the number of gates would bolster security since cases of kidnapping and robbing has been rife.

I have to admit that I am a little chubby. So whenever I unlock the gates, some leaning and squatting action is required and when this happens I struggle to maintain a stable footing with ease. A drop or two of salty sweat would trickle down my sideburns after unlocking and locking the gates and then my on-foot journey to school would commence. I walk as slow as possible to avoid sweating like the joggers who occupy the neighbourhood roads in the morning. Striding in their neon windbreakers and sweatpants, I envy them greatly. I am extremely jealous of how their feet look as though they defy gravity and how without the slightest hint of hesitation, they can sweat freely like the stream of the river rushing through the moss-covered rocks.

Isn’t sweating just disgusting? One drop of it affects my mood of the day. Maybe I have ‘OCD’. This seems likely but if it is true, every girl in my class would have been affected by this disorder long ago. Tissue papers never do the trick. Wet or dry, the stickiness left by the sweat lingers until washed clean by a foamy face cleansing solution. In my hometown, I rarely sweat because the land is so cool, its beauty untainted by development project after development project unlike here where I study for university entry.

The path from my accommodation to the school is easy but the path from my school to the accommodation is strenuous as f*ck. Have I ever told you I hate hills? Although the incline is almost non-existent, it is existent (in an ‘in your face’ way) to chubby guys like me. I normally pant like a dog who hasn’t ran out in the rain upon reaching the house. Unlock the gates, lock the gates, get in the house, shoes off, socks off – those are the little blessings in life. Although one should be content with these gifts, I am anything but content for there is a far greater luxury in store…

Bathing.

I love taking showers. I’d do it all the time if I could. People think I’m weird for bathing at least five times a day. They lament on how much water is ‘wasted’ on my own hygiene.

Once? Ew, gross.

Twice? Normal.

Thrice? I’m fine with that.

Four times? Are you serious?

Five times? What the hell Alex, are you crazy?!

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