you be the lantern king

barok informed me that he has seen the post in which i mentioned his name as one of the batangueño boys i'm fond of. then, he told me he had just uploaded a recent picture, which i'm sharing here. first chance i saw this smoldering photo, a poem by sappho scorched my mind:

he is more than a hero
he is a god in my eyes--

then again, barok is a friend and pangga is way, way more desirable than anybody else in the galaxy, so let's sublimate the covetous passion by posting this ancient essay i wrote for barok.
***
Yes, indeed, it pays to be a titleholder. And the big winner, I must single out. Imagine if you romped away with, say, the Lantern King title, you become an instant celebrity in the campus. You get to receive from the girls the loveliest message ever conveyed in the universe, enjoy the extra special attention given to you by your schoolmates, and pride about your looks being better enhanced than your runner-up’s parents have augmented their sons’.
On the far edge it makes you wish you were never discovered at all during the Lantern Night. Your privacy and nonexistence before have eventually melted away. You can’t help but shake your head off upon learning that girls match your name with theirs in the F.L.A.M.E.S. play, follow your way as you pass by the College lobby or, worst, proclaim themselves your personal Lantern Queen. The problem with the first is that you might be pinpointed by Eco-Police as culprit in the mountains of scratch papers polluting the College vicinity, your name being boldly written in there while your partner’s, erased. With the next you absurdly suspect being paparazzi-ed. With the last you get to laugh helplessly (and be ridiculed for being such a jerk) at grandly made up females with elaborate costumes enough for you to brand them as human Lanterns (ladies, it’s already past mid-January).
Anyway, you are what you have become. You are adjudged the Lantern King, so be you. Of course, you can barely hunt all the jurors and blame them unendingly for your newfound throng of admirers. The most you can you do is badger them why they have to make you win at the expense of your silent identity exposed. But at the moment you remember that during the Lantern Parade and Program you have willingly agreed to represent the college you belong to, gamely riding your official float and the flaunting your manliness in that royal apparel and, fortunately or unfortunately for you, have easily clinched your throne.
If I were in your shoes I would just wait till Lantern Night approaches anew and die chuckling at the impending catastrophe the next Lantern King is bound to experiencing.