NOT A NOT-A-LOVE-STORY STORY ???

9:30. i was expecting to see him worrying to be late on his first class at the elevator lane. But I guess this is one of the luckiest days of, whoelse, ME! Hooray! So I headed to the second floor and went to my self- proclaimed locker and proceeded to the seventh floor to exactly do my thing. GAWD! Upon seeing his lizard-killing hairstyle, my heart pumped as if it wont pump the next hour. I continued walking directing to my favorite study/sleeping/eating/daydreaming spot/seat/space.

With the help of my tantric knowledge on mathematical estimation, I could say that we’re almost one feet away from each other. I am in this PINK-AMPALAYA shirt and there he is, stucked in his dirty-white-and-faded-black tee. Ugh. I can’t explain this feeling. red, green, and yellow lights are instantly and loudly flashing off my head. Confused. Excited. Ashamed. Embarrassed. It’s more of a human feeling than of being a stone.

A moment allowed us to see each other. Our eyes met and conversed with a smile. I went back shyly to my seat acting as if nothing had happened. I concentrated fakely on this whole bunch of Accounting thing. And blah blah blah blah blah… Going back to this not a not-love-story story, this guy in a dirty-white-and-faded-black tee interviewed me on my earliness initially saying, “Ang aga ah…” “Ikaw din naman eh”,  I replied trying to kill this seemingly odd-slash-embarrassing interview between the pink-ampalaya-colored-shirt girl and the guy with a dirty-white-and-faded-black tee.

The guy trying to rejuvenate the air- gasping interview, “May quiz kayo?” And in response, the tiny friend spacing inside the space in my head asked on how the hell did he freaking know that we are going to have  a sort fo freaking quiz on this holy, freaking day! HE IS A PSYCHIC! Beware! Hakhak. “Oo”, I unconsciously said. “Ano’ng subject?” He’s starting his interview questions again. Ugh. “SECRET!”, I said comically, trying to really put this supercalifragilisticexpialidocious show/interview/conversation to death! But not until my mouth tried to be extra polite adding, “Accounting. FINACC2.” And silence victored! Hooray! At last!

Hours have passed. Sky has alternately transformed from blue to white, and white to blue. Leaves have already fallen from the stems/twigs/whatsoever part of the tree that leaf has fallen from. Not to mention the liters of urine that have uniquely poured into its beloved hometown! And oh, let’s not forget the ever popular 10 new-born babies born every second; And also let’s include inthe scenario the 7 suckers, comonly known as “human”, who die every minute (I guess). Okay! ENOUGH for commercials.

The train is back on this not a not-love-story story. While a friend is eagerly searching, not stalking, her engineering crush in the campus/building, I unexpectedly saw again this guy with a dirt-white and faded-black tee who has just taken off from his 11th floor elevator ride. He seemed to be in a hurry. Upon seeing him, a shock transparently pictured on my face. I don’t think he noticed it, but I noticed his urgent reply upon seeing me—not my shock-etched facial expression. His honest mouth, with the help of his neurons and cells and tissues and whatsoever parts of his…thin…no,slender…no,unbuilt body made my ear/s receive/s his super extra sweeet call on his given petname to me. Sweet! No ingredient of sarcasm or whatever, just plainly SWEET!

HAKHAKHAK!!! WHATEVER!

Recovered Post

I HATE MY LIFE NOW!

that’s so unfair

Motto ko t’wing exam: Don’t squeeze your mind if there’s nothing to squeeze.

Naiinis ako sa’yo kasi alam ko naman na hindi mo deserve ‘yang grade na natanggap mo. Mas mataas ka pa sa’kin, eh samantalang hindi mo nga alam ang mga nangyayari sa mundo. Kaya ka lang naman pumapasa kasi nagpapaturo ka ng mga tamang sagot twing exam, takot kami sa’yo eh, kaya sumusunod na lang kami. Alam mo namang nagbubulag- bulagan ang titser natin sa mga senaryong kopyahan kaya ayos lang sa’yo. Garapalan na. Masaya ka na ba? Nakuha mo na ang grade na gusto mo? Masaya ka na ba dahil mataas ang nakuha mo? Sige lang. Ikaw na ang bahala. Sana manlang sinabi mo ang magic words… Wala manlang ngang ‘Thank You’ eh. Ang selfish mo. Ang selfish selfish mo. Ang grade conscious mo pa. Naiinis ako sa’yo. Nakikipagcompare ka pa ng grade, nangiinsulto ka ba? Hindi ka ba mahihiya ng kaunti sa kabila ng mga kayabangan mo? Oo na. Sorry ha. Bobo ako. Ikaw na ang MATALINO! Sorry naman ha, hindi kasi ako magaling katulad mo. Hindi ako magaling manakot at magmakaawa sa mga kaibigan ko para lang ituro sa akin ang mga tamang sagot. Sorry! Alam mo yung sorry? Sana naman minsan maisip mo na sumusobra ka na. Palagi ka na lang ganyan eh, authoritarian ka kasi. Ewan ko ba sa sarili ko. Sumusobra ka na kasi talaga. Tsktsk! Kaibigan kita, gusto ko lang maging independent ka naman kahit minsan. Pa’no na lang pala kung ang buong barkada ay absent maliban sa’yo tapos may quiz, eh pano ka na? Mahirap din yung palaging dependent, balang araw maninibago ka. Di sa lahat ng oras ay may ibang utak na mag-iisip para sa’yo; ibang kamay na gagawa para sa’yo; at ibang mga paang hahakbang para sa’yo. Pag-isipan mo habang maaga pa…baka sa bandang huli ay magsisi ka, kaibigan.

i’ll be good to myself.

makikipagpustahan ako sa sarili ko,

kapag nakakakuha ako ng grade na 2.5 and below,

hindi ako magcecellphone ng isang buong taon.

HIKA ANG INABOT KO…

Karipas ng takbo. Ang bilis mong maglakad. Walkathon ang drama. Hindi kita mahabol. Ang lalaki ng hakbang mo. Hindi ko alam kung bakit ka ganyan. Hindi talaga kita maitindihan kung minsan. Minsan pakiramdam ko ay pinagtya-tyagaan mo na lang ako. Hindi naman kita pinipilit na sumama sa akin eh. Mas gusto ko pang mag-isa na lang ako kaysa naman samahan mo ako na ramdam ko namang napilitan ka lang naman talaga. Ayos lang. Madali lang naman akong kausap. Kung ayaw mo, ok lang. Kung gusto mo, mas ok.

Mahirap talagang humindi sa isang kaibigan. Alam ko iyon. Wag kang mag-alala, hindi makitid ang isipan ko. Naiintindihan kita.

Ikukuwento ko sa iyo. Tatlo kaming magkakapatid. Ikatlo ako. Ang kuya ko, pinag-aaral ng aking ina upang maging bihasa sa paggigitara at pagba-bass. Ang ate ko, pinag-aaral ng aking ina upang maging magaling na taga-awit. At ako, pinag-aaral ng aking ina upang matutong magpiano. Summer noon. Anim na taong gulang ako noon. Ano man ang sabihin ng ina ko ay sususndin ko, kasi bunso ako. Bunso ako NOON. Kailangang sumunod ako. Anim na taong gulang ako noon, kahit ang gusto koay magbike sa ilalim ng araw ay nasa loob ako ng bahay, nagkakanda-ngawit-ngawit ang likod kakapindot sa mga puti at itim na keys. Humaba na nga ang aking mga daliri kakaabot sa F chord.

Minsan masaya. Minsan din hindi. Matagal kasi ako makakuha at makaintindi. Matagal magproseso sa isipan ko ang mga tinuturo ni inay o kaya ng piano instructor. Kumbaga sa internet, loading pa. Minsan kurot ang abot ko kapag nag-aalburoto at nagrereklamo. Parang inalisan ako ng karapatan maging bata. Minsan mahirap. Pero ngayon, naiintindihan ko na. Parte siguro iyon ng pag-aruga sa akin ng aking ina. Kailangan ko daw matutunan maging matiyaga. Parang ngayon, kahit ayaw ko, kailangan kong magtiyaga.

Ayaw kong mamilit ng tao. Nararamdaman ko ang nararamdaman mo. Mahirap.