No Less Myself

The sun shines a little brighter today

For reasons I think I know;

All the clouds are white to light gray,

As the teasing breeze flow;

Oh yes, it was a tease, a very pleasing tease

If you’ll grant me one simple wish: leave my sight please.

Allow me a second to remember our past

When we’re what we call “together”

Oh you said that I will be your first and last

The word you said, was that “forever”?

Please spare me one of your little, foolish lies

So you really thought that you were that wise?

Was that an attempt to make me miss you?

Well, I thought you were just trash

Was that an attempt to make me jealous?

Actually, you may kiss your sorry ass.

You have dreamt of me shedding weak tears for you

Here is a surprise, my memories of you are getting few.

I’ll never kneel for you to return

The world’s a better place in your absence

 It’s your loss, not mine. The tables have turned.

Thank your pitiful common sense.

You think that you complete me, and I will need your help;

Baby, you underestimate me, without you I am no less myself. #

Fourth in a series of hate poems.

I hate you.

No Mutual Friends

“Beep!”

There goes the computer, notifying Vincent of his fifteenth unread message on Facebook. Vincent is downstairs, scavenging for something to eat from the refrigerator.

Less than a minute later, he hurries up the stairs as if there is an emergency situation. In his mind are the unread Facebook messages and the urgency of each exchange of words. He placed his dinner plate recklessly at an arm’s length away from the computer, and in a split second, his hands are already in the keyboard keys, crisply typing and banging the enter key as he inputs and sends his message. Typing in the keyboard is as automatic as breathing and as essential as life.

Facebook. That’s where his life revolved these past few months. He’ll never be contented to be below level 20 at all popular Facebook games, and he has 37 community pages on Facebook which he administrates. Vincent is quite the social networking magnet, updating his status at an average of 32.3 times a day, based on his own computations and receiving likes at an average of 21.8 per status update.

Call him the ultimate Facebook addict.

“Vincent! It’s already midnight!” her mother yells from the bedroom.

“All right Mom! Just a moment!” Vincent replied.

That was Vincent’s 12th “just a moment” to his mother, who has recently been complaining of her son’s uncontrollable Facebook addiction causing their electrical bills to skyrocket.

Vincent proceeded to chatting with his friends, some from his neighborhood, some from his past, some from school and some from online forums. Abused as the keyboard may be, the chatting continues until several notifications fill in the left side of Vincent’s monitor.

It’s a friend request from someone named Fara Higgins.

With the notifications from that friend request flooding Vincent’s monitor continuously, the web browser hangs and is not responding anymore, and without any warning, closes by itself. He tries to open his web browser. It wouldn’t open. Double-clicking the desktop icon did nothing, too.

Anxious, Vincent triple-clicks, quadruple-clicks, speed-clicks the mouse in a frenzy. Still, he received no response from his computer. He slaps the monitor, gently kicks the system unit, and all of a sudden, dozens of Google Chrome windows piles up his screen. One-by-one, he closes them.

He goes back to the friend request, to that of Fara Higgins. Without hesitation, even without any mutual friend, but with that gorgeous and seductive display picture, Vincent accepted the friend request.

He then goes on to chatting with his friends, wanting to apologize for the delay in reply caused by his browser crashing. However, there was a problem loading the chat feature of Facebook. He couldn’t see his online friends and he couldn’t send any message. Anxious as Vincent naturally was, he double-clicks, triple-clicks, quadruple-clicks, speed-clicks the mouse in a frenzy.

“Beep!”

There goes the computer, notifying Vincent of an unread message despite an error in the chat feature.

It was a message from Fara: a plain “Hi!”

“Hey!” Vincent replies, “Thanks for the add!”

“No prob, twas nothing. Just wanted to make friends on FB,” Fara replies.

The conversation went deeper and even sweeter – the typical teenage flirts online. Vincent already forgot to talk to his other friends and to eat the food he scavenged from the refrigerator.

The next day, at school, everyone is talking about Tetris Battle, that new addictive game on Facebook that put some competitiveness over the classic block game of Tetris.

“Hey Vincent, you suck, I’m now at Level 31,” a classmate brags to Vincent.

“Level 36, baby. Now who sucks?” Vincent returns the boast.

“Level 36? The last time I checked, it was Level 30!”

“And when was that last time you checked?”

“Before class!”

“Hahaha! Well, you’re connection has a really serious problem, bro. Check it again. Level 36!”

To settle their debate, they go online and check Vincent’s real level. It turns out that Vincent is still at Level 30. Vincent is convinced that he leveled up to 36 last night, just before he slept. His classmate concludes that server problems might have caused his progress not getting saved. Vincent’s ego just can’t consume how Facebook is starting to meddle with his online life.

That night, Vincent scampers to his computer, and logs in to Facebook. Well, at least he tries to. Facebook wouldn’t load. Google, Twitter and all other popular sites will load, just not Facebook. YouTube videos would buff with ease, yet even that light Facebook logo won’t appear.

Vincent contacts his classmate, Paulo, who is well-known in the class for being a computer geek. Vincent asks for some tips. Paulo tells him of some proxy sites, some codes to tweak in for faster connection and some buttons to tick so as to make sure that Facebook is not blocked. All of them did not work. The elusive error is showing some invincibility.

Frustrated, Vincent goes downstairs and once again, forages for some dinner.

Coming back was a surprise for Vincent. He sees his Facebook account logged in and open, as if nothing had happened. There are no notifications for the 6-hour period that he hasn’t logged in, and it’s quite another surprise for this social networking addict. There was a single message however, that from Fara. It isn’t humanly understandable for the message did not contain any message at all: it only consisted of randomly typed letters.

Ignoring Fara’s nonsensical message, Vincent opens Tetris Battle, and was surprised to see that he is indeed Level 36. He chats his classmate and sends a screenshot of his Tetris Battle home page, showing that he is Level 36. His classmate sends back a screenshot of his, showing that he is Level 30. For Vincent, it seems like his computer is having a problem.

He tries to chat with Paulo for help, but unexpectedly, an error in the chat feature occurs once again. The annoying error is pestering Vincent once more.

“My computer is kinda sick. These Facebook errors are getting to my nerves. Help?” Vincent types as a status message.

Posting it was equally as hard as logging in. Facebook won’t allow Vincent to post that status; again, an error occurs.

No matter how pissed Vincent was, he just couldn’t leave that site. To burn time and irritation, he just tries to browse over his profile, and again, putting frustration to an extreme, something in his profile was gravely incorrect.

His 3,000+ friends disappeared. He could not see his 200 notes. Add to that the displeasure of receiving no notifications. Vincent is slowly turning red in exasperation. He just can’t believe the errors that are happening to his Facebook account.

“Beep!”

His computer, after a long time, sends him a notification. It is a message from Fara, and this time, this one is readable. A simple “Hi!” from a sweet girl partially assuages Vincent’s bad mood.

Some sweet exchange of words that lasted for hours sparked Vincent’s curiosity at last. Who is this girl?

Vincent clicked over her profile and found only two display picture – typical of a fake account. No educational background is available, just gender and a few liked pages. Friend list is hidden. Vincent is troubled whether this account is a fake or whether the girl is just secretive. Just a sweet word or two, it doesn’t matter to Vincent anymore.

The night after, coming from school, Vincent sprints to the computer, hoping to start early the conversation with Fara. Earlier that morning, at school, Vincent asks Paulo to come over their house to fix the computer without any compensation, of course, being a friend of Vincent.

Fara is not online. Vincent, however, is still delighted to discover that the chat feature is now functioning. Eating some finger foods with his left hand while scrolling with his mouse on the right hand, Vincent goes back to enjoying the pleasures of being the social networking magnet that he was, chatting with his friends until sleepiness pass him out.

“Beep! Beep! Beep!”

The computer sounded once again, this time in bursts of beeping. In a short span, more than 30 of his friends messaged him, which is soon followed by 100 more. In the middle of the beeping climax, a classmate of Vincent calls him through phone.

“Vincent! Vincent!” the voice through the phone shouts in panic.

“Why? Why? What’s the problem?” Vincent answers, also driven by the panic.

“Don’t! Oh please, Vincent! Don’t!” the voice pleads.

“Don’t what? You sound like I am raping you!” Vincent replies confidently.

“No time for jokes, Vincent. I’m coming there,” the voice says, still in panic.

“Why? I do not understand! Calm down!”

“Your note on Facebook? What the freakin hell was that, and how do you expect me to calm down?!”

“My note on Facebook? Which one?”

Baffled by that alarming call, Vincent checks his Facebook profile. Amidst all the hysterical beeping and the upsurge of messages, he discovers that unknowingly, he had supposedly typed a seemingly suicide note telling everyone that he is happy with this life except for one mysterious thing which the note did not state. The note also contains some dramatic farewells to his family, his classmates, his friends and to the world. One thing, each of his friends was tagged in the note.

Vincent’s cellphone was on rage. Calls and messages keep coming, and Vincent does not have any idea how to fix the impression that the note he supposedly typed and published created to his social circle. He was also oblivious as to where that note comes from.

The frenzy on phone and on his Facebook continued as Vincent became witness to his own account automatically posting status messages talking about revenge and death. Minutes pass, status updates were posted and troubled friends warily struggle to contact Vincent, who was, in turn, in shock of what is happening to his online life.

While clicking on Facebook, he sees that his display picture had changed without his knowledge. His display picture became a picture of him three years ago at an educational trip. In the background was a bunch of people, and in those was a strikingly familiar face. He was bothered by that familiar face.

“Beep! Beep! Beep! Beeeeeep!”

Vincent’s computer beeps numerous times.

Fara messages Vincent, 99 times in a few seconds.

Vincent views the messages. Empty. They are all blank.

That display picture of his just flashed back on his mind. He clicks back to the picture, looks at the display picture, and sees that the familiar face he was looking at a while ago is already gone. The girl has already left the photo. “Imagination?” Vincent was asking himself, “it couldn’t be.”

It really couldn’t be.

“Beep!”

Another message from Fara.

This time, there is an attachment. After some online virus scan, Vincent downloads the attachment.

Double-clicked, triple-clicked, quadruple-clicked, speed-clicked. Opened. A picture.

The picture shows Vincent. The description says that it was taken in a museum, dated December 3, 2008, three years ago. The picture is the exact same picture that became Vincent’s display picture on Facebook.

Vincent is startled. Why did she send that?

Lights flicker. They turn on and off, alternating rapidly. Vincent, on total fright, stands in the corner of his room and watch as his online life turn into a living nightmare.

The monitor slowly fades to black. It left words in red, bold, capital letters -- DIE. The monitor strongly tells Vincent to die.

DIE.

Eyes are straight. Hands are sweaty. Heart is skipping a beat on fright. Holding his body against a wall, he starts to scream, but no voice is coming out of his lungs. Lights continue to flicker.

The computer, despite fading to black, begins to play a recording.

A girl screams from the computer speakers. A girl is screaming desperately for help. Background voices grow louder. Deep male laughter, violent physical movements, flowing liquids and falling objects to a wooden floor noised the recording. The scream becomes inconceivable, as if something had covered the girl’s mouth.

The recording becomes more disturbing. The screams become more deafening. The girl is struggling. Gasping every single breath available. Calling for help that obviously weren’t there. Screeching in struggle and pain. Not long, sound of flesh being stabbed becomes audible, and the girl’s cry for help becomes more emotional – the scream was for her dear life; it was for her survival.

Then, for seconds, moments of silence.

“DIE! DIE!” an outraged female shouts.

“DIE! DIE!” the message of death reverberates around the room, echoing more violently inside Vincent’s mind. The voice is filled with revenge and ruthlessness. Vincent is being compelled to death for something he has no idea about. Vincent just stared at his computer set, in trauma, in shock, full of guilt for something unknown, full of pity for a girl whom he did not know, full of worry not only for himself, but for the girl whose life has been taken away.

He leaves the house in terror. He called a friend and asked if he could spend the night with him.

The next day, terrible news came to the classroom. Paulo died of a car accident. Paulo was supposed to help Vincent fix his computer, but it seems like on his way, Paulo met dreadful fate. Also, Vincent is the most talked about person of the day, with the unexpected suicide note, the melodramatic status updates, the weird display picture and just this morning, the pictures that were tagged to Vincent, abstract red and black probably depicting death and suffering. Vincent had no control over all of these. Vincent is a victim of an unknown online activity.

Facing his fear, after class, he goes home.

In serenity, his computer sits there idly, his Facebook logged in, showing his home page. The whole desk is clean, and it seems like everything is waiting for him to take his seat. Everything is in order except for Vincent’s mind, which is still disturbed by everything that had happened last night.

“Beeeeeeep!”

His computer notifies him of a message. Blood surged inside his body. An unexplainable chill raptures from his body. He becomes uneasy. He isn’t ready to see from whom the message was. Slowly, his sight crawls from the keyboard to the bottom part of the monitor.

His worst expectation came true, the message is from Fara.

A single message still unopened lies there. Vincent hesitates if he’ll still open the message. He opens.

“DIE.”

That single message was followed by dozens more, all in a continuous inflow of sharp death threats.

“DIE.”

“DIE.”

“DIE.”

“DIE.”

“DIE.”

The web browser minimizes and maximizes on alternate, showing the desktop background on glimpses. Daunting, on the desktop background is Fara – that gorgeous display picture of hers drenched in blood, with a knife stabbed on her neck. Fara’s eyes were looking sharper and sharper to Vincent as Google Chrome continues to alternately minimize and maximize. Tears of blood flow from her innocent eyes.

The browser stops and opens a new tab instead. There, a video automatically plays.

The video shows a slaughterhouse, with hanging dead pigs in the background. Light from a swinging incandescent bulb plays with the shadows of the hanging pigs. Dim as the light could be, the video shows the silhouette of two men approaching. One of the figures adjusts the camera to show a woman hanging head down along with the pigs. The woman begins screaming, and it sounded exactly like the recording that Vincent heard yesterday.

The video was inhumane. Torture. Abuse. All Vincent felt for the woman was pity. The woman is stripped off her clothes and was bathe in boiling water. The woman struggles to escape the tight knot, but was only weakened by the continuous beating of the two men. One of the silhouettes covers the woman’s mouth with a duct tape while the other continues the torture. The woman dies, after receiving dozens of stabs from the cold-blooded criminals.

“DIE.”

A voice from the video calls.

“DIE!”

The voice is getting louder.

Terrified, he races to the computer and unplugs it. Still, the computer was unaffected, playing from an unknown source of electricity.

Then, another clip plays. This time, it was him. Vincent sees himself in the video. In the video, he’s holding a rope, staring at the computer, guilty and crying. Disheartened, he falls down to his knees. He sets a chair up and knots the rope in a support bar attached to the ceiling. He positions his head on the other end of the loop.

Vincent is taking his own life, and in the moment he jumped, the footage is cut, and on the screen appears Fara’s face, talking to Vincent, “DIE!”

Fara, red in blood and anger, continues to speak to Vincent in a psychedelic voice. With her eyes with capillaries oozing out blood, the edges of her teeth decaying to black, her neck with a knife stabbed deeply, she fills the room with her grudging voice – calling for Vincent’s death.

The morning after, Vincent’s friends came to confirm the news from his parents, that after he had supposedly changed his display picture into his decapitated head, posted his own video committing suicide and tagged all of his friends, he had really killed himself.

“How did he post his video committing suicide if he had already died?” a classmate asked.

Fara’s account never really existed at all.

***

This short story is an experiment trying to source fear from one of the least explored medium in horror literature – the Internet. Many of us find the Internet as an important tool in our lives. This story wants you to ask yourself a question: will I ever fear the Internet?

This short story was originally submitted at a short story competition for the Lance's literary folio, Muralla: Space. The Lance is the official college student publication of Colegio de San Juan de Letran, Intramuros, Manila.

Crush This

Days pass by as if they were clouds in the sky

First, strolling smoothly; then, gone in a blink of an eye

I am still stuck on that one day six months ago,

The day the show ended, the day you let me go.

They say that time can heal all the pain I feel

But even if overdose was possible, I’d cry in ache still.

Time made love a cancer, a danger, a gripping anger,

A kiss to my wretched fate, a toast as my despair linger

Crush this heart for ever beating for you,

Burn this mind for never stopping to think of you,

If it was just true that we can stop our own agony

Then could this ordeal be my heart’s self-treachery?

I still do weep the tears that only my pillow serves witness

I still do look for you in my lone moments of distress

It’s hatred. It’s hopelessness. It’s haplessness. It’s true.

For both of us, crush this heart for ever beating for you.

Ok. Move on.

Now Playing: Long Gone and Moved On - The Script

Cheers. F**k you. :)))

To your mouth that had told me nothing but lies.

To your smile whose teeth arrangement I despise.

To your dimples so deep, I want to see it bleed.

Fuck you all. Fuck you indeed.

To your Facebook posts that belongs to your diary.

To your body that belongs to the piggery.

To your lies that intend to make me look stupid.

Fuck you all. Fuck you indeed.

To your apologies and the sins you repeat

To your accent that sounded like a frustrated Brit

To your bragging stories that no one actually needs

Fuck you all. Fuck you indeed.

So who cares about your cars and hectares of land?

Did we ask about your girlfriend or trip to Thailand?

So you say you are pretty; vanity is your greed.

Fuck you all. Fuck you indeed.

To your irritating voice that penetrates my room,

To your annoying noise when my needed silence looms

I want to keep you out. I want to lock the door.

Fuck you indeed. Fuck you more.

To how you make appear yourself the victim,

To your face that has proven your excessive esteem,

To the crying stunts you frame to make yourself adored,

Fuck you indeed. Fuck you more.

To your fake friendship at every examination,

To your hidden loyalty to my opposition,

To your quest to have my private life explored,

Fuck you indeed. Fuck you more.

To the futile hours that you have made me wait

To how you shamelessly steal and eat my chocolate

To the trash you made out of our friendship before,

Fuck you indeed. Fuck you more.

To your conversion of my secrets to headlines,

To your endless plagiarism of my lines,

For having me done this poem and piss myself more,

Fuck you indeed. Fuck you more.

Third in a series of hate poems.

Sorry.

Conspiracy

A pot of gold amidst desolation,

A welcoming arm in my frustration,

An irresistible offer of rare delicacies:

Yes, this could be one of his conspiracies!

His words have shown you paradise,

Only to discover that it’s an island full of lies.

His promises have spawned your fantasies,

All of which ended in bitter tragedies.

He takes you to the middle of the sea,

With a vow of everlasting company,

Now you see yourself, alone, adrift,

Conspiracies have taken your life so swift.

Ecstasy was his voice, heroin was his smile,

You were addicted, deranged, deceived and beguiled.

After everything he has done, there you sit in isolation

Where’s that pot of gold amidst your desolation?

Second in a series of hate poems.

Irrelevance

To the wind that I share my bed with.

To the empty expanse that I have my meals with.

For giving me the irrelevance I don’t deserve

I have equal irrelevance for you reserved.

When the glass empties its contents

That’s the only time it approaches water.

When is the only time to repent?

When one has become a sinner.

You take time to be with other persons

And avoid me as much as possible

For nearing me is always the last option

For you think my effort is always available.

To you who approaches me only when in need,

To you who is already consumed by greed,

Your sins have ran out of forgiveness

Your fake smile is no longer my happiness.

This heart knows when one abuse has been enough.

This mind is no slave of anyone.

Someone may stay hurt for a minute and be tough;

But no one can stay forever a martyr for someone.

To the wind that I share my bed with.

To the empty expanse that I have my meals with.

I have equal irrelevance for you reserved.

I have irrelevance that you deserve.

Para sa mga taong user. Bow.

A Bus Ride along the Coast on a Sunday Night

As the moon calmly succumbs to its cloudy throne,

As the waves meet the sand in a deep, twisted tone,

As the stars struggle against the dominating black,

A meteor shoots for the slightest scratch of luck.

I remember the nights that we proudly called ours,

The place we used to go, the way we passed the hours;

I thought I was lucky and that you were the one,

But like a meteor, the spark was dead and gone.

A solemn bus ride home, a stranger in my seat,

Street lights color my face; your playlist on repeat.

Daydreams on travel whose destiny no one knows,

Just like a meteor with no more place to go.

Could it have been you who’s beside me in this ride?

Could it have been you who’ll make the sadness subside?

The vow of forever, the contract of fervor:

In desperation, a wish to a meteor!

About:

We’re seven in the group; the seats are grouped by two. All of them are already paired except for me. I was left to sit alone behind, and all of a sudden, sadness crept in. My melodramatic, poetic side once again reintroduced itself to the world.

From Lemery to Calamba, enjoy “A Bus Ride along the Coast on a Sunday Night”.

Blogging back, Kenneth. :D

Dinggin (Louder?)

Filipino version ng kanta ni Charice na “Louder”. Medyo masagwa nga lang kung ‘yung bahaging “head… head… head…” sa kanta ay isalin sa Filipino (ulo… ulo… ulo…), kaya medyo marami ring operasyon ang isinagawa sa kanta.

Nakadungaw sa bintana

Langit ay lumuluha

Ako man ay niloko

‘Di na madarapa

Mag-isang babangon (oh oh oh oh)

Ako’y hindi uurong (oh oh oh oh)

Nais lang naman damhin ang kalayaan.

KORO:

Sasalubungin ko ang ulan

Sasayaw kahit nasasaktan

Dadamhin ko ang tugtugin… ang indak

Ang sigaw ng puso, ang tibok ng puso’y.. diringgin (gin.. gin.. gin..)

Sigaw ng puso’y.. diringgin

Tibok ng puso

Damhin ang tugtugin… and indak

Ang sigaw ng puso, ang tibok ng puso.. diringgin!

Sa.. Sawa na ‘kong kaiisip kung babalik ka pa

Ako ngayon ay lilisan, sayo’y kakawala

Mag-isang babangon (oh oh oh oh)

Ako’y hindi uurong (oh oh oh oh)

Nais lang naman damhin ang kalayaan

KORO:

Sasalubungin ko ang ulan

Sasayaw kahit nasasaktan

Dadamhin ko ang tugtugin… ang indak

Ang sigaw ng puso, ang tibok ng puso’y.. diringgin (gin.. gin.. gin..)

Sigaw ng puso’y.. diringgin

Tibok ng puso

Damhin ang tugtugin… ang indak

Ang sigaw ng puso, ang tibok ng puso.. diringgin!

Oh, paglimot, hatid ay tuwa’t sigla

Pinakinggan ko lang naman ang puso, puso, ang sigaw at ang tibok

Puso.. puso.. puso..

KORO:

Sasalubungin ko ang ulan

Sasayaw kahit nasasaktan

Dadamhin ko ang tugtugin… ang indak

Ang sigaw ng puso, ang tibok ng puso’y.. diringgin (gin.. gin.. gin..)

Sigaw ng puso’y.. diringgin

Tibok ng puso

Damhin ang tugtugin… ang indak

Ang sigaw ng puso, ang tibok ng puso.. diringgin!

Let It Rain

An ephemeral waterfall a few feet away from me,

A spectacle few are able to see.

Droplets dancing on the basketball courts,

The whole quadrangle has become their dance floor.

Finding their route down a convoluted maze,

From the treetop, through the branches, the children of rain race.

A sweet tap on a lonely tree’s leaves

A big wet spot on a janitor’s sleeves.

Let it rain, let them run

The athletes are racing for their lunch.

To the canteen, they paced up as if in sprint

Down the ground, they leave their wet prints.

The catwalk has never been tranquil;

In the mercy of the rain, the school has stood still,

The long stretch of benches found their repose

Inside the gates which today are closed.

Standing strong amidst the incessant spill

The trash bin defy the human’s will,

Today, he’ll receive no trash from us

A short vacation from all the rush.

Once dwelled by students, once teeming with noise

The campus today is empty and coy

Nature takes centerstage in presenting its show

We are the audience, all in the front row.

As classical music is playing,

The rain clouds slowly rolling,

Draining down the catwalk’s sides

Are families of raindrops forming waves and tides.

Let it rain, let them run

The drops will flow to the sea in trance

Until the next time we see each other, our little visitors

Let yourself rain, let yourself descend in stupor. #

This is a side effect of my classical music therapy at the Letran Catwalk. Thank you for reading.

The Right to Complain

            “Ano ba ‘yan?! Leche naman kasi ‘yung pagkatype, sayang six points!”

            Yes. That was me complaining about my prelim examination on Calculus. I lost six points on a major examination because of a wrong given.

            “Ako careless lang. Sayang din!” Charlie seconded my sentiments.

            Minutes went on and we keep complaining about the poor performance that we did this prelims – mainly blaming the new grading system for releasing the future hell at our DotLetran accounts. Maybe we are just not capable yet of adapting to this new system, maybe we are just used on getting pampered with the generous numbers on our previously 30% class standing, maybe we just relied on adjustments too much.

            “60-30-10 na kasi eh. Ang laki na kasi ng exams!”

            I can’t help but to agree with the outcries of my roommates. One mistake in a major examination and almost a full point would be deducted from your much prized grade. One little carelessness and the average that we so hope for would be far from reach. Now that is how crucial the major examinations are now.

            “Leche lalo na yung Ethics! Nadiscuss ba ‘yung mga virtues?” I added.

            Now that is a bigger problem. Examinations does not reflect a large portion of your overall comprehension during the term – one may just get unlucky on a particular set of questions or a class may just get equally unlucky on a particular set of questions that was not discussed at all.

            Kuya Jethro, a veteran scholar, entered our room. I started opening a sachet of Milo and Bear Brand and began mixing it in a glass with sugar. Charlie continued on contemplating about his grades; he’s probably thinking of his Filipino prelim grade which plunged to 89 [can be rounded off to 90].

            Charlie and I continued our loud conversation against the existing grading system and on how are we going to cope up for the midterms. We’re both vying for a high average set by other people’s expectations on us, and we are really pressured.

            “Kamusta grades?” Kuya Jethro asked.

            “So far, this day, no good,” Elvin, a batchmate and also a scholar, replied.

            “Ayos lang,” Charlie said.

            I was silent, for I’d rather not express my disappointment on my grades. I can’t help but to compare my performance as a freshman to my present performance, which should not be compared because they were obtained in a different grading system. I just continued munching on my powdered milk chocolate mix.

            “Paano kung sabihin ko sa inyo na ayos lang ‘yan, anong mararamdaman mo?” Kuya Jethro said.

            I was struck. That was a question I never asked to myself. I was amazed by how he had come up with that question. As a friend, or even just as a classmate, I usually say that to comfort people around me, if in case they really get around me.

            “’Yun tipong sasabihin na ayos lang ‘yan, kasi may midterms at finals pa, anong mararamdaman mo? Kunyari ordinaryong estudyante lang ako,” Kuya Jethro said.

            I kept my silence.

            “Ayos lang. Depende sa mood,” Elvin answered.

            “Base sa nakuha,” Charlie said.

            “Kasi may prof ako nun,…” Kuya Jethro began to tell a story.

            He had a professor on one of his minor subjects. His professor, he told us, suffered all the possible misfortunes that the world could offer. Loved ones dying, financial crisis and members of family getting sick all add up to the clutter of negative things in his professor’s mind.

            Whenever he is comforted by his friends, he gets offended when they say “okay lang ‘yan” or “ayos lang ‘yan”. How can a situation be alright when obviously it’s not? How can you say that everything is going to be fine if in the first place, you have started wrongly?

            Maybe we are comforting our friends by blocking the reality from their sights, by concealing what is already evident on saying that everything is alright.

            “Joke nga ni Vice Ganda eh, ‘yung dun sa namatayan siya ng tatay, tapos tinanong siya ng kaibigan niya kung ayos lang daw ba siya, ang sabi ni Vice Ganda, ‘e kung patayin ko tatay mo, ok ka kaya?’ o kaya ‘yes, success, namatay tatay ko!’” Kuya Jethro added.

            I was now sitting nearer to him; I got more interested in what he is going to say more.

            “Ako kasi prelim grade ko lang e 75,” he said. Everyone was in silence. “Hindi ko na alam kung papahalagahan ko pa ang scholarship para makatulong ako sa mga magulang ko o hindi ko na papahalagahan dahil 4^th year na rin lang naman ako.”

            “Alam mo rin, napipissed off ako. Lalo na kapag may mga naririnig ako na nagrereklamo sa grade nila. ‘Yung tipong ‘sayang, nagkamali ako sa exam, 90 lang tuloy ako o kaya 85’. ‘Yung tipong ang ingay-ingay pa. Hindi ba nila alam kung gaano kahirap para sa akin ‘yung makakuha ng line of 8 sa sitwasyon ko ngayon. Parang bad trip na bad trip sila sa line of 8 nila, ano na lang ang sasabihin ko? Ano na lang ang iisipin ko?”

            I was hit. I can’t turn my eyes to Kuya Jethro. Charlie and I were just complaining about our grades awhile ago, and here comes a realization.

            It came into my mind that it is high time to be sensitive about what we’re complaining about. What could be a failing grade to you might be a life-saver grade to others. One may look at 86 as a disappointing grade and begin to cry amidst a class, while another person may look at 86 as a grade to brag to his or her parents.

            If I am on the situation of the latter, of the person who treasures an 86, and I saw the other person cry in sorrow because of it, because he is not satisfied of 86, because he sees 86 as the lowest grade that he could have – what then will I think? Why is he sad of 86? Pasalamat na nga siya 86 ang nakuha niya, kung palit kaya kami ng grade?

            Different persons have different grade expectations, and even grade retentions. Disappointing as it may seem, maybe we just have to think about what the others’ situation could have been. Maybe, we feel that we have our worst grades ever, that our families will persecute us for such a grade, but maybe, before we start complaining vocally and explicitly of the grade that we had, we must first assess on who might hear, if we all share the same sentiments and if we will or not appear grade-consciously perfectionistic.

            “Ang baba nga eh, 95 lang,” how degrading, discouraging or irking could this line get?

            One word, oh yes, contentment.

            Contentment. I know that contentment is never an answer if your grade is below a scholarship retention grade, if your grade could disappoint a million people around you, or if your grade is a stain on your squeaky clean transcript of records. Rather, contentment will help you in controlling your disappointment, on convincing yourself that you must not complain, on telling you that complains would bear no good, and most importantly, on pushing you to strive harder and not to complain harder.

            A 70/80 Calculus test paper lies victorious in front of me. Who am I to complain about that silly mistake? It was silly, it was a result of carelessness, it is a question that I could have easily gotten correct yet I got it wrong. Who am I to complain? Who am I to get pissed with myself? I did my best and 70/80 is already a good grade. What word again? Contentment, that is.

We have the right to complain; we have the right to scream whatever is on our mind. However, every right bears a responsibility, and that is what’s lacking.

            “O sige, alis na ako, aral na kayo ah,” Kuya Jethro ended. #

300 Bagay na Mamimiss Ko Ngayong Tapos na ang Second Semester!

300. Pagpupuyat. Sobra.

299. SM Bacoor. Miss ko na ‘yun. Bakit kasi siya pula?

298. Eh ang pagsikat ng araw sa lawa sa Laguna. Isa pang hindi malilimutan.

297. Pati yung stargazing sa bubong nila Mellot.

296. At sila lang kasi ang nakakita ng shooting star.

295. Kung saan nagbuhos pa ng sama ng loob si Jaybe.

294. Si Coach, at ang hindi mo mawaring mood niya.

293. Ang limitation sa laundry, na kulang na lang ay hindi na ako magpalit ng damit sa sobrang tipid.

292. Na kalaunan ay nawala din at back to normal na.

291. Ang klepto sa loob ng dorm.

290. At ang halos buwan-buwan na pagkawala ng mga bagong bili kong shampoo. Hayup.

289. Ang polo shirt ni Kuya Jeff, na official polo shirt ko kapag may gala.

288. Ang takbuhan around SM Manila para sa printing ng Christmas cards.

287. Pag-“carrying bells” ni Moon!

286. Ang kalandian ni Kuya Janjan. Booo! Hahaha!

285. Lalo pa ang kalandian ni Allen. Kalalandi niyo.

284. Isama mo pa ang kalandian ni Jovie.

283. Ang pagtuturo sa mga Squires ng English. Oha?

282. Magrereview daw kami ni Potpot sa SM? Utoooot.

281. Ang kilabot na financial statements ng Jollibee Foods Corporation

280. Ang guidance session na naudlot. Udlot. Udlot. Udloooot.

279. Ang National. (first floor)

278. at ang Bookstore. (second floor)

277. At ang takbuhan doon sa Tutuban Mall.

276. Pati ang libreng fries ni Penpen sa McDo.

275. Kamusta din naman ang paghahanap namin ng pintura. Saan kami dinala?

274. Pagka-OCD ni Ma’am Agaton. Bumibilang pa ng tiles.

273. Ang panalo ni Grecy sa Fun Run!

272. Ang pagsobra ko rin ng 2 seconds nung Tagatal. Hahaha. Heartbreaking moment.

271. Ang aking paggala bago ang Final Exams.

270. At ang pahirapang paghahanap ng scientific calculator lagi.

269. Ang imbang environmental science assignment sa Accounting.

268. Ang sabotahe kong quiz sa Humanities. Maling-mali eh.

267. Ang takbo ko para sa mga CD sa Management!

266. Ang noon ay landiang Charlie at Penpen

265. Na ngayon ay pormal ng landian.

264. Party-party nung Pistang Paskong Pinoy! Yessss!

263. At ang sobrang pagpupuyat sa Letran. Talagang bagsakan na.

262. Kaya naman pagdating ng Manila Cathedral, ehem, may tumulo yata?! HAHAHA.

261. Makakalimutan din ba ang dare na walang tulugan days after?

260. Ang pagpapalit din ng relationship status ni Potpot dahil doon.

259. At iyun na! Si Potpot at Grace na ang malandi, sila na nga.

258. Pagpinta sa Humanities.

257. Ang pag-effort ko talaga sa Abstract Expressionism, na late ko na narealize na mali pala.

256. Pati na rin ang pagbagsak ng panga ko sa mga paintings ni Heidi.

255. Naalala ko rin sa Rob, ang pagpili ng paint brushes.

254. Si Miss A!  Si Miss Angela Fajardo Villanueva at ang kanyang nakakagulat na activity!

253. Pati na rin yung photographer nung Heritage Quiz na PolSci :D

252. “Why Kenneth be?! Why Kenneth be the two of us?”

251. Ang walang hanggang parami ng parami na versions ng I, the Criminal script.

250. Ang North Luzon Escapade with the scholars!

249. Ang pagtotour guide ni Father Ponce habang paakyat ng Baguio.

248. At ang pagtotour guide ko din pagdating ng Pampanga.

247. Na biglang na-dead air dahil nga binara ako ni Father Ponce.

246. Ang naiwan kong Manaoag. :))

245. Ang naiwan kong violet polo shirt sa San Fabian.

244. Ang dakilang AC1A (2nd Sem) na group sa Facebook.

243. Na walang ibang post sa chatbox kundi pag-ibig.

242. Ang pagtawad ni Jaja sa Divisoria.

241. Ang kontra-tawad naman ni Avel.

240. Pagbulusok ng nakasusulasok na amoy sa 2nd Floor canteen.

239. Reporting sa Management, konting plays, konting pakulo.

238. Valentine special ice-breaker namin. HAHAHA. Kinikilig ako.

237. Yung Buko Pandan na ice candy!

236. Kapag nagpipicture-picture: VAIN!

235. Ang simula ng kampanya, ang pagsuot ng pula! :D

234. Pati na rin ang chorus namin nila Ate Maix at Ate Jack sa St. Thomas

233. Paghiram namin ni Elvin ng damit pampari.

232. Ang roadtrip ko din papuntang Laguna na mag-isa.

231. ‘Yun bang tipong mali pa yung binabaan mo! Hahaha!

230. Ang araw na showing ang Origleenals, at oo, nakatulog lang ako.

229. Ang Imperfect Crime, na hindi naman natuloy. Haha!

228. Ang mga blind items ni Avel. Sinelya itelya?!

227. Libreng pagkain nila Mahrooz, Ched at Hanna nung may sakit ako. Sarap pala magkasakit. Hahaha.

226. Ang hindi ako makaget-over na speech ko nung Recognition Day.

225. Pati na rin ang pagcongrats ng maraming tao.

224. Ginawa pa akong mascot at may picture picture. Amp.

223. Sippum Gippeum Logo – the making!

222. Hindi ko makalimutan yung Joy of Life! Henri Matisse!

221. Ang sunset sa San Fabian, ang ganda. Weeee.

220. Ang pagwawala ng mga scholars sa videoke.

219. Colegio Week! Ayuuun!

218. ‘Yung Life Works, Artworks exhibit, na inabot din ng sobrang gabi.

217. Pagpipilit itayo ang painting mural, nylon, tape, ano pa ba?

216. Pati ‘yung pagpapaframe namin ni Ate Ro sa Recto. Hahaha.

215. Letran Heritage Quiz Bee. Ang saya ng eliminations. Akalain mo?!

214. Pero pagdating ng finals. Total amf. Kami lang ang walang award.

213. Field Demo ng mga AC1A! Dumadancing Queen!

212. Ang pagvideo din namin nun from the High School Library.

211. Kung makasigaw si Shaquille sa classroom eh?!

210. ‘yan tuloy, dumating si Sir Kenji! HAHA!

209. Ang isang minutong tula.

208. Ang entrance ni Tatchi kapag English time.

207. Syempre, ang entrance din namin kapag MOI na! :D

206. Hindi pa pala ako bayad sa Alyansa ano? :))

205. Ang katabi kong matulog sa dorm dati, tesselation!

204. Ang kalat-kalat na cellophane sa gilid na aking kama.

203. Cornetto Double Chocolate!

202. Ang date namin ni Potpot sa SM nung birthday niya. Kumain kami ng brownies!

201. Ang sikreto ng drinking fountain sa second floor! Hohohoho!

200. Ang mga bagong tao sa dorm na nakita ko lang ngayong second sem.

199. Ang pagkakasakit sa dorm. Imbang karanasan.

198. Lalo na yung pagpunas sa akin sa towel na nilublob sa mainit na tubig. Imba lalo.

197. Pagbabasa ng Gospel tuwing gabi.

196. Comprehensive exam sa Accounting advancement class na quiz bee type

195. At ang sobrang galing doon ni Kuya Pars!

194. Ang walang humpay na paggawa ng AVP, ngayon naman, commercials at ice breakers.

193. Ang panonood kasama ng mga schos sa cafeteria ng videos.

192. Malamang ang pagduduty sa cafeteria. Ulit ulit na lang

191. Kamusta naman ang super heart-friendly cholesterol-rich na swimming pa in mantika ng corned beef ni sino ba kasi ‘yun?

190. Ang super-OA na super masaya naman na introduction sa akin ni Sir Kenji sa GAGATA.

189. At syempre, ang pag-congrats sa akin nun ni Ate Juvy. Weeee.

188. Team building ng LAAG sa La Mesa, hooray, na hindi ako nakasama. Wala lang, namiss ko rin lang.

187. Naghagilap kasi ako ng magbibigay ng waivers.

186. Ang unang meeting namin sa Humanities, super kahiyaan pa noon.

185. Hanggang kami ay naging ganap ng Criminals. :D

184. Ang pagsagot sa Accounting take home quizzes.

183. Makakalimutan ko din ba ang pamatay naming teamwork doon?

182. Ang maya’t maya na pag-type ng PBL sa Management

181. Lahat ng preparations involving sa PBL, pagpost sa facebook at lahat-lahat.

180. Lalo na talaga yung pagtakbo sa internet shop para magpa-burn. Namayat ako doon.

179. Ang spaghetti ng nanay ni Mellot, dahil ayon nga kay Jaybe, ipagpapalit niya daw ang spaghetti ng Jollibee para dito.

178. At ang pang-aasar sa akin ng mga Criminals na hindi ako nakakain ng spaghetti.

177. Ang pangbablack mail ni Shaq kay Avel, nung dating ito pa ay nagtatago.

176. Ang walang habas na pagsusulat sa ticket booklets na bigay ni Father Ponce. Masakit sa kamay yun.

175. Pati na rin ang nakakaenjoy na paghulog nun sa malaking roleta.

174. Ang mga pagdalaw ni Ched sa tuwina. Lagi-lagi na lang. Siya na ang may pamasahe

173. At ang marami palaging baong mga kwento ni Ched, hindi nauubusan ‘yan eh.

172. Research paper namin sa English, hindi ko alam kung saan napadpad.

171. Ang mga private moments namin ni Elvin sa rooftop.

170. Tocino at itlog na maalat na binalot sa dahon ng saging.

169. Ang namumutawing likod ni Allen. Mutawing mutawi eh.

168. Ang pagbekimon ni Jovie! :D

167. Ang pagboboardwork sa Accounting. Hahaha. Moon, bagalan mo pa!

166. Pagsali ni Allen sa Mr. And Ms. Letran.

165. Ang Paskuhan sa UST at ang amazing fireworks!

164. Pati na rin ang overnight session doon. Woohoo! Salamat Elvin!

163. Ang kakulitan ni Ma’am Inciso sa classroom. At ang palagi niyang pagsita kay Shaq, Chelsea at Jovie

162. Ang bubuyog. Pati na rin ang bubuyog part 2. HAHA.

161. Pagtype ng mahabang IF function. Tapos malalaman mo may VLOOKUP naman pala.

160. Naalala ko rin tuloy yung CONCATENATE!

159. “I’m the Map! I’m the Map!” sabi ni Marie kay Sir Cendana! Bad!

158. Naalala ko rin ang pagsugod ni Sir Cendana sa catwalk kahit gabing gabi na.

157. Ang pagkanta ni Allen ng Bitter King daw. “Mahaaaalll... Mahaaalll na mahal kitaaa.”

156. Ang pagsayaw ni Ate Gretch: I whip my hair back and forth!

155. Ang kilabot ko nung pinanood ko talaga yung music video ni Lady Gaga. Hahaha.
154. At ang tawa ko naman nung una kong napanood yung music video ni Michael V na Bathroom Dance

153. Finding Humanity, ang tula sa Humanities. Haha.

152. Si David, at si Potpot, at ang pagpopose ni Potpot na ala-David. Woohoo. It’s all about the body.

151. Pati na rin yung Vitruvian Gay na may paa ng bata sa likod.

150. Ang lindol sa Japan, at ang pagiging usap-usapan nito sa dorm, lalo na yung 2012?!

149. Isama pa yung bagong zodiac sign, Ophiuchus!

148. Party party sa loob ng dorm. Super disco at Verona.

147. Ang out-of-this-world midterm examinations ni Ma’am Agaton.

146. Pineapple juice. Plus Chocolait.

145. Pumapak ng Nissin Chocolate Wafers na isang pack sa loob ng isang araw.

144. Umubos na din nung nakaka-adik na choco chips ni Potpot.

143. Magpowerpoint para sa Management.

142. Magpowerpoint din para sa Angry Birds.

141. Panoorin din ‘yung project ko sa IT. :D HAHAHA! May pinaghugutan pa raw.

140. Nasabi na rin lang, ang maglaro ng Angry Birds.

139. Pati na din ang ligaya ni Grecy sa tuwing maglalaro ako ng Angry Birds.

138. At ang pagpilit ni Hanna na gayahin ang mga tunog ng ibon samantalang siya naman yung baboy.

137. Buti pa si Jovie, yung baboy yung ginagaya.

136. Bahay nila Rozelle, pati ang dinner buffet sa kanila! Hahaha!

135. Overnight daw, naging sleep-over. Ako pa ang unang natulog.

134. Ang pagkahulog ng tsinelas ko doon sa lawa nila Rozelle.

133. Ang private na pagrerecord din ng voiceover namin ni Shaquille. With matching tissue pa.

132. Isa pa ang pagdidrift ng nanay ni Rozelle sa Valenzuela.

131. Paggawa, pagpapakorek at pagsasaulo ng speech sa Tagatal.

130. Yung tanong tungkol kay Noah, kagimbal-gimbal, ang hirap sagutin!

129. Ang free lunch doon sa Tagatal! Ang daming pagkain. Ito namang si Jessa kung makakuha daig pa ang ibang lalake. Hahaha.

128. Ang biglaang pagiging technical personnel sa Guerrero Cup.

127. Na dapat eh gagawa lang ng presentation.

126. Ang biglaang sigla kapag naririnig ang Peacock!

125. Ang unang yapak sa bahay nila Jaybe. Astig talaga :D

124. Ang ngiti ni Kuya Arvin.

123. At ang tawa ni Grecy dahil doon.

122. ‘Yung bag ko nawawala! Saan ko nilagay.

121. “Anong tawag sa’yo?” sabi pa nung guard.

120. Ang pagpunta din sa Auxiliary at panonood sa mga CCTV cameras kung nasaan ang aking bag, na napagkamalan palang bomba!

119. Ang palpak na technical team nung RnJ play. Sino ba yun?

118. Ang pre-finals namin na napostponed! Woohoo!

117. Ang RSO Day Presentations: tatlo ba naman org mo?!

116. At ang pag-intro sa ilang mga numbers.

115. Ang paglipat-lipat ko ng pwesto sa Accounting, no permanent place kasi doon.

114. Ang Intramuros Heritage Trip with Mahrooz and Jovie.

113. Sa bahay nila Marie, ang overnight muli doon!

112. Ang pagkamangha ko sa mga powerpoint presentations ni Sir Aian.

111. Humanities: Art Depreciation, photoshoot sa Verona. Kakaibang trip!

110. Sandamukal na pagbreak ng curfew. Hahaha.

109. Ang favorite kong kanta para sa second sem: Fireworks! :D

108. Isa sa pinakamemorable naman: Broken Strings.

107. Ang custard cake ni Crenn!

106. Ang pagpraktis ko sa Firework na hindi naman matutuloy.

105. Piece of String.

104. Ang dry run (kung maituturing) ng Speechfest. Hahaha.

103. “Allen, pakopya naman.”

102. Ang aking signature auti-clap! Haha!

101. ‘Yung kapag nagkikita si Sir Buen, parang barkada lang. Astig talaga.

100. Ang room-to-room ronda ng Alyansa sa Letran. With matching entrance song pa at choreography.

99. Pati na rin ang pagiging bunso ko sa kanila.

98. Ang sandamukal na photo shoots at AVP shoot.

97. Pati na ang pagsesetup ng mga exhibits, na inabot ng sobrang gabi.

96. Miting de Avance, wtf, napasayaw ako ng wala sa oras.

95. Naalala ko tuloy nung total stranger pa ang lahat sa akin. Meetings sa CCD. Waaah!

94. Paggawa ng walang hanggang props ng Criminals, lalo na yung pagpaint!

93. Assignment ng ate ko sa World Lit, na pinagawa niya sa akin nung PPP.

92. Speechfest, at dahil doon, wala kaming title defense.

91. Kumanta pa yung isang teletubbies, pinatalon ko daw yung CD.

90. Maliit na pizza, astig na contestants at mas astig na banda sa Rock You!

89. Ang panglalandi ni Sir Cendana sa classroom.

88. Mga paunang meeting sa Student Council.

87. Pati na din ang Proclamation! Yes! Official na sa wakas.

86. Pagtambay sa Periodicals section.

85. At ang pagbabasa ko ng Communication Arts magazine. The best.

84. Mang Inasal, 7 rice! Hahaha!

83. Tutorial sessions din sa Periodical section, namimiss ko na!

82. Isama pa ang tutorial sessions sa Room 208! Tutorial nga lang ba? O pati picturan na?!

81. Mga sessions pa kasama ang nanay ni Hanna! :D

80. Word of the semester: KOKKET!

79. Expression of the semester: Bakla ka pala eh!

78: Pwede rin yung: Maling mali dre!

77. Pagpunta sa room 208 at pag-atras dahil may nakitang mga tao.

76. “Let the war begin,” sabi ni Potpot.

75. Ang pagguho ng mundo ko nung Ash Wednesday, kasi walang karne.

74. Biglaang pag-Japanese sa akin ni Sir Ron.

73. Ang pagdaan sa mga building, at sabay turo, Corinthian column ‘yan o kaya Rose Window ‘yan!

72. Play ng Criminals! Woohoo! Yung tipong nagtetechnical ako.

71. ‘Yung nawala pa yung charger ko ng wala sa oras. Nakakahingal yun.

70. 2heartsbecome4 signature sa GM ko. Hahaha.

69. Ang pagiging DJ Earthworm ko. Sound mixer na sideline ko.

68. Syempre, ang mix kong Jaca in the House, para sa Mr. And Ms. Letran!

67. Isama pa ang Scholars Mix 4, na para naman sa GAGATA at Guerrero Cup!

66. Jamming session with some real musicians sa Humanities.

65. Operation Donut, ang filming nito. :D Nakapwesto pa kami sa SC5! HAHA!

64. Ang pag-edit din nung video, nakakapagod na masyado.

63. Pagkagulat sa exam sa Math of Investment dahil sa formula sa likod!

62. Fireworks nung Pistang Paskong Pinoy!

61. Syempre, yung UST Symphony Orchestra na naki-jamming sa Letran. Da best!

60. Trip to Kuya Ros! Woooohoooo! :D

59. Pati na rin ang pagkuwento niya ng kanyang mga adventures kasama si Avel.

58. Hairspray ni Kuya Jake tuwing magrorosary. Psssssshhhhh...

57. Ang first time kong pagpunta sa post office.

56. Ano kasing prusisyon yung dumaan sa dorm dati? Hahaha.

55. Sabi sa sinehan, “Ang Tanging Ina Mo Rin!”

54. Dramatic photoshoot sa Pasig River with Jovie

53. Ang adventures ng mga scholars sa Recto para sa tesselation.

52. Ang walang humpay na batian ng Merry Christmas at Happy New Year nung bakasyon.

51. My unfathomable English discourse with Kevin. Grabe.

50. Ang malutong-lutong na pagmura sa akin ni Jaybe. Ang lutong eh. Walang bawi!

49. Si Ate Shie, at ang isang baso ng tubig sa Chowking.

48. The best scene sa play ng Criminals: Scene 9!

47. Ang pauso ni Ma’am Inciso na note cards daw. Hahaha.

46. Ang Wonder Girls, ang SuJu, ang SNSD. Si Inay, si Jovie at si Hanna. :)) Heavyweights diba?

45. Pagiging Bet na Bet ni Danique!

44. Ang saya ng pagtulog sa klase namin ng Accounting.

43. Pati na din ang pagkawala ng aking sapatos sa tuwinang ako’y magtsitsinelas. Mukhang si Chelsea yata nagtatago nun.

42. First floor sessions ko with ASUS or Casio. Loner times.

41. Pag-GM sa groupmates sa Management ng English dahil kagroup namin si Moon.

40. Nakita ko si Mike Enriquez sa Letran! Haha!

39. CATWALK. Ang meeting place, tambayan, internetan at lahat lahat.

38. Golden Potatoes. Mamimiss ko yung super salted fries.

37. Food for the brain daw sa Management.

36. Ang paghahatid kay Mahrooz sa terminal ng bus kapag uuwi na siya.

35. At ang madalas na matagal pang pagtambay sa gilid ng bus, at ang pagkaway niya mula sa bintana.

34. ‘Yung nanenermon na janitor kapag makalat kami. Feeling close. Hahaha.

33. Lalo pa’t pag may kasabay siya sa bus na, ehem, ehem.

32. Banana Cue! Hahaha! :D

31. Ang mga naglipanang lovers nung Valentines.

30. Pagkakaroon ng pintura sa aking pants. Kinulayan ko kasi yung garahe nila Rozelle ng asul. Hahaha.

29. Naalala ko tuloy nung nagGM ang Criminals ng sabay-sabay at pare-parehas pa! Ka-irita. Haha.

28. Hanggang madaling araw na paghihintay sa Catwalk para sa resulta ng eleksyon.

27. Ang excitement ng mga taga-Verona sa tuwing may bagong episode ng Bleach.

26. Noli de Kasyo! Noli de Kasyo! Konting pilit pa kasi talaga sa Hangaroo eh!

25. Ang pagbili ng pare-parehas na tsinelas!

24. Ang sobrang hysterical shouting moments habang nagbibingo sa gym.  HAHAHA!

23. Pagpapalamig mag-isa sa Manila Cathedral. Lalo na kapag kailangan ng kapayapaan.

22. Ang pagsakit ng batok ni Ma’am Agaton.

21. Ang pagiging autistic.

20. Ang auti and mongie dance showdown sa room 208!

19. Pagsesend ng wrong grammar na GM sa kalagitnaan ng gabi.

18. Paglatag ng kutson sa saheg ng Verona at tabi-tabing matutulog. Hahaha!

17. Ang mga sabi-sabi ko na hindi ako matutulog. Mukat mukat ko umaga na pala.

16. Si Alma Muros. At ang kasing lapad ng tumblr na parusa. Hindi lang serenade, orchestra pa!

15. Ang pagsutsot ni Kuya Danny kapag maingay sa dorm.

14. Kaya naman nagkaroon ng “Please Observe Silence”

13. Samahan pa ng “IskoLar”! HAHAHA!

12. Yung bangs ni Shaquille. YES.

11. Ang kama kong sobrang kalat. SOBRA. 20% na lang nahihigaan ko.

10. Obsession ni Kuya Janjan sa Korean groups na naging Christina Grimmie, na naging Taylor Swift, na naging Avril Lavigne.

9. Ang pagiging hysterical ni Jaja! Keribels? Truelagen?

8. Ang pagiging partial ni Inay, kasi full scholar na siya next sem! Woohoo!

7. Team building ng Criminals, walang tatalo.

6. Ang mga stray bullet alerts sa text. Mga pasaring sa hangin.

5. Accounting102: Partnership and Corporation accounting!

4. Ang mga kapanahunang long back pa at may patilya pa ako.

3. Lalo pa nung hindi pa ganito karami ang pimples ko.

2. Ang pagiging 16 years old. >D

1. Ikaw na nagbabasa nito. Miss na kita :D

Wooohoooo :D Happy Summer Sem :D