the gapanese invasion is nigh!

"pinakamaganda ka nga sa buong kapuluan, pero latina na naman ang magwawagi ng korona at sash sa miss world! racism ba ito? lupasay!"

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

from x to your desk

You now receive tailor-made essays from a relatively unspecified source. You get bewildered why you are the only subject of all these compositions, as if you are the sole rich attention-drawing specimen there is. Maybe you are dead sure, you are truly the lon alive reason for the eloquent words you, your dorm mates and classmates constantly browse from the wee morning hours until midnight. You might turn out to be the beautiful, inspiring world around which the lingering sight of the anonymous author seriously resolves.
You formulate wild clues regarding where the expositions hail from besides the official carriers Kuyas Wacks and Bojo, two of your USSC acquaintances. You discount the inkling that these have descended from the high heavens, and your classmate Romualdo’s brother has tumbled upon them by chance. Likewise you scarcely entertain the concept that your kalalawigan Kuya Bojo has craftily woven them himself, you being English-proficient than he is. Well, they can’t either have flowed out of the dorm water tank’s canals then have darted straight into the lavatory, quite implausible. You then cling to the solid fact that someone makes then somewhere in the University, highly presuming the fountainhead to be within the USSC Office confines.
“Hmm…Could Tere have initiated the writings?” you query yourself, basing your hypothesis under the ground that Tere has a feverish desire to become your resident phone pal. “That’s one difficult maze to untangle,” you simply relieve the notion, since Tere singly resorts to the secret (sic) admirer she claims herself to be who allegedly dwells in the uncharted telecommunications dimension. Needless to declare, you freely junk Tere’s possibility of punishing herself even worse through burning your dorm’s cable simultaneous to winning you as her regular paper subscriber.
You pass up the suspicion on Chairman Glen, Kuya Joy, Pre, Cani or GH—they are perfect strangers to your system. Similarly you dismiss the opinion that the coveted eggs in your Easter Hunt certainly represent any of the five other unmentioned councilors—Tony, Tina, Bien, Ron and Cesario—but with the last. You have yet to meet the first four, meanwhile you got introduced to Cesario one August evening of 1999. Is he the unknown?
Mystery deepens so you must delve more into the pitch-black abyss.

No comments:

Post a Comment