The Stuff of Indies

I’ve finally decided to sleep and turned off the lights, and what should I discover on the thin lawanit wall in my run-down dorm room but… a very, very tiny spot of light I’ve never noticed in three years. I checked out the spot and it turned out to be… light coming from the next room. I peeped through the hole, saw the next room, and discovered a dead body. Or an orgy, whatever you prefer. But there it was, the hole, possibly there all this time. This would probably explain the weird grins I’ve been getting all these years whenever I walk down the hallway: “Sya yung nagsusuot ng Robin costume sa kwarto nya gabi-gabi,” they probably think. Or “Kaya pala laging mukang pagod.” Or something like that.

I’ve written about the derelict state of the dorm many, many years ago–how I could get burned in two seconds, and how the questionable personalities in the vicinity give you strange looks which could be interpreted as an invitation for sex or a death threat at the same time. But this peep hole gives a totally new dimension to the seediness of the place. I know–I should probably write, direct, and star in an indie film. But I don’t care if it would seem mainstream–the Robin costume stays.

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