A.L.T.A.R.B.O.Y.

Two days ago I have talked with someone over the net I completely have no idea who. It was in one IRC channel and what caught my attention was the catch phrase and his pick-up line that stated, "anyone up for intellectual masturbation?"Finding it totally hilarious, I ended up replying with "Intellectual maturbation?Is talking politics while doing IT counts?" (This is rephrased since I no longer remember what I exactly said. Me and my poor memory!)

And then he replied back, "No, reading Das Kapital". That nearly tested my Intellectual Quotient and started to regard myself as one pitiful, second grade brain since it had gone senile in my most challenging chat ever! I thought that was the end when I replied, "What?" and then suddenly my brain cells quickly reverberated "Karl Marx, it's Carl Marx!" which was totally dilatory in making a senseful conversation since it was the name he had written right before I got the chance to type the letters down.

And so we got caught talking and talking to one another - of things that were not even related to Marx' Das Kapital, politics and national crises.

I spent majority of my time defending what was left of my brain over some gruesome age of mine. He didn't believe I was 21. Who would, in a chatroom since we were talking sense then. So to put everything in brevity, he didn't believe me and was regarded as a 45-to-65 year-old sex-deprived old man trying to get a satisfaction from somebody who was young, vibrant and, well young. That pissed me off and started blah-ing just to prove him wrong. Catch this, when it was time to reveal his age, he answered with a whopping 82-year-old man which I didn't believe of course. In my defense, "82-year-olds (NO OFFENSE really to old people!) are not in front of the computer and typing. They are on their rocking chair waiting for some hot milk." But I didn't nail my argument since he wasn't disclosing his age, at least not anytime soon.

After a tiring but stimulating argument over some matters only immature adults argue about, he started to say his goodbyes which was unfair and unjust for he made me all reved up for a conversation. This is what he said and what made me assume that I was talking to myself (conceited and all, just this once!hehe), "Tell me you like me and Let me stay".

IDIOT!He totally reversed the situation. I knew he liked to talk with me since he had all the time to do rebuttals for his own volition and defense. Otherwise, he won't be staying that long if I were not a conversationalist and was a bore to him. Still, I did what I was told and totally did what I was asked of that made me more idiotic than him by the way. Thinking that I was in the upper hand of the situation but just quite the opposite, like a crustacean looking for a new shell for hermitage and hibernaculum, I made him stay and made my few hours of boredom into a chaotic clash between the Titans and the Gods.

During the course of our conversation, he suddenly dropped the bomb. According to him, he was dying and that was the last time we would be talking with each other. That created chills and goosebumps all over me. Was I wrong?Why did I make this suicidal, psychopath convicted son of a gun stay?For all I knew, he was some serial killer got caught a few years back who pretended to be nice and smart that was looking for an early 20's victim to feed off his appetite from a long silence and solitude grudges against the world. But knowing me, I didn't halt there. To worsen things out, I asked a gazillion questions trying to crack this Hannibal reincarnated.

He confessed that he was dying and he was NOT suicidal. And from my line of questioning, he was not a leftist also. He was not eighty-something and according to him, he was a Political Science student of UP and was not enrolled this term. I kept on asking why he was running out of time (hello!DYING is the word!) but I did not get an honest and staightforward answer. He repeatedly said that he did not want to die but sometimes things just happen for a reason, or at least that was what I had understood. It was an honest answer, I think. He hid his true name under 'altarboy' but never to squeeze out his real name.

During that entire blah-ing and antagonizing, I felt and my gutt told me he was telling the truth and managed to again think of questions to soften this rock up. Due to his stubborness and resemblance of myself, I wasn't able to. I continued to ask and ask with so many theoretical, practical and hearty questions but of no decent exegesis still of what and why he was dying. I didn't know if it was a metaphorical dying (death of his old self and rebirth of his entirety) or physical dying (coffin, wake, coffee and biscuits etc.) he was referring to.

In the latter half of our talk, he said he did not want to have that serious talk right before he dies but instead happy thoughts and cranky topics. This total freakiness added up when he said he was tired and believe me, I wanted to leave him alone and make him spend the rest of his time with his family and friends or what have him.

But then he asked me to stay and I did. Just when we were ready to talk about the film 'The Incredibles' that I got cut off from the internet. I had no remaining credits already. I thought of not coming back that instant. Instead due to my innate curiousity, I came upstairs, grab a hundred bucks, went to the store and buy that prepaid card. Much of my rush, I never noticed the store was CLOSED, LOCKED and CHAINED. I tried to call for somebody at the store but nobody came out and sold me a prepaid ISP credit.

That was the end of it I said to myself. I would never know the truth. Up til now, I still wonder what happened to that 'altarboy' I got to talk with two days ago. If HE really IS dead, I pray for his soul. If IT was just a SICK JOKE over the net amongst his circle of friends, may they burn and suffer eternal torment!Hehe, just kidding!

But seriously, if it happened to be a prank, I couldn't do anything. What more can I say but hey, I GOT PUNK*D!