As I bid farewell to my phone number for the longest time, these are the ten oldest messages I have kept in my Inbox, all through these years. Sob.





Nobody told me that being good is hard. I have just realized that no matter what I do and no matter how hard I try to be good for others, there will always be someone to screw everything up. And it’s hard, very very hard, especially if that person is the one you trust your whole life most.

Last night, two of my most valued relationships almost ended. And it's almost funny that it took me only one night to grasp the fact that none of them could really last.

It's totally heartbreaking that no matter how much you love to be with some people, there will always come a time that everything must come to an end. Even though you have seen yourself growing up with these people and have your sons grow up with their sons, you will come to a point that you'd realize it's not possible.

The length of time you have been with a person can never be an assurance that you'll always be together because as you grow older, you come to know him better each and every single day and realize that there are still many things you don't know about each other that you get scared if you have been truly honest with each other all along. It's worse when you see the monster peeking in his eyes and growing larger each passing day.

I have never believed that we, people are destined to meet others along the path of our lives and have to lose each other along the way. Some say it's really that way, you go your way while the other go on his. But I've always thought that people can travel together through life and learn and grow up together. But now I'm getting convinced that such a thing is unattainable.



It seems to me like we're getting nowhere. Aside from boycotting classes, wearing black shirts and protest paraphernalias, I don't see any positive developments regarding our battle. Today, many students opted to go home than join the others in protest. Many of us are just simply losing hope in gaining a decision in our favor and even other professors are saying that we are fighting a losing battle here.

Rumors have it that the Mechanical Engineering Faculty is now divided. Some of the professors (especially those who graduated from UP) are not anymore willing to help.

It's been two weeks since this issue has erupted but still, the efforts made by the Student Council and the Unified Mapuans' and the students altogether seem to be too weak against the administration's seemingly pre-planned revision. All their actions were numbered, and their decisions are strongly constructed that just seem to strong to break.

The preceding events for the past weeks have affected us greatly. Just this week, I've only been in three classes because others were either suspended or boycotted.

Sana lang hindi mapunta sa wala mga sakripisyo naming mga estudyante. Sana'y dinggin ng administrasyon ng paaralan ang aming mga hinaing at hayaan na ang Mapua ay manatiling Mapua.



I met with Santy and Cathy this afternoon. I helped them look for Roy Buensuceso (our friend from high school) in school. They needed him for the wedding invitations Roy had promised to make them as a gift.

After that, they went on canvassing for restaurants where they can hold their reception while I went back to Ayala (after missing a quiz) to see Anette and her friend, Sugar. This had been the first time in months that we’ve been alone together again so I wasn’t able to refuse her invitation.

I shamefully played billiards with them who proved to be a bunch of female Efrens, I admitted defeat before the end of the second set. Then I had two bottles of Red Horse (juices for them)while waiting for 7:30 pm for my last class. Thus, I came back to school feeling dizzy and intoxicated, to the amusement of my classmates.











I’ve checked the results of the entrance examinations yesterday afternoon. Sadly, I didn’t find Muriel’s name there. However, I promised myself to come back again, I have to be sure I haven’t overlooked.

Shiela phoned me earlier last night from Japan while I was browsing for books at the Book Sale in SM Manila. She sounded like she’s really missed the barkada. She told me I was the first person she’s called since she went there on January 14th this year, which startlingly didn’t move me.

One notable thing missing from our 4-minute conversation was the certain glitch she used to inflict me for the past two years and a half every time she calls or by just plainly hearing her name. I didn’t even have qualms telling her that Mench and I are still going steady when she asked.

Now, I began to ponder on these thoughts. Is it true that time heals all wounds? Or am I just making myself believe that I had really moved on? Or is this just what my head wants me to do?

Now I’m using my bigger head. Maybe that’s what.



There are no really interesting things that happened to me this weekend for most of the time, I was manning again my father’s sari-sari store (with my loot purse), except for Santy’s exhilarating news that I, together with Jules, will be a part of his entourage to his wedding on the 5th of March. I was too keyed up because it will be the first time I’ll ever gonna be inside an Iglesia ni Cristo church and it is truly stirring that Santy remembered us now that finally, he’s getting hitched to his son’s mother, Cathy.

Arriving home, I caught my sister watching Boy Abunda’s Kontrobersyal which was documenting on the celebrity sex videos. Scared to be teased a pervert, she flipped channels to German Moreno’s Master Showman and just before I took a shower, the show caught my attention by a group of girls (calling themselves D’Bodies) dancing in scantily clad outfits and fake headphones. I looked at them one by one, hoping to see someone pretty and to my surprise, one of them looked exactly like Annie, who was with me at the Mr. & Ms. Southside last year. She was, at one time, my crushee and eventually (modesty aside) had a crush on me, too. But that was just that. Later when they were interviewed, she said her name is Cherry Ferrer then I remembered her middle name is Ferrer, which made my suspicion all the more logical.

Also, my dismantled shoes were now fixed. Thanks to the ingenious Mr. Quickie at the Market! Market!. My father brought them for repair the other day and has claimed it Sunday morning. Now, my shoes got two names on it: Ohrelle on top and Mr. Quickie on the sole and the heels (now made of rubber) down under.



Earnestly, I staffed the store yesterday morning to give time for my father to take a bath in the house (he thinks the bathroom at the unoccupied room beside the store and my aunt’s house is too whiffy). And that’s actually how he wanted it to be: He opens the store in the morning and I man it for him few minutes before I go to school, just for him to have time to take a bath in the house before lunch.

I arrived in my bicycle and he was just too glad to see me offering myself, little did he know that I needed to do that. And as soon as he went out of sight, I’ve collected a few paper bills from his counter, just enough for me to get to school and back. I’ve already decided not to have lunch because I know how karma will get me, so I had to sacrifice a little bit to lessen the guilt and the punishment I must face.

I don’t actually do this on a regular basis (except for some petty coins) but this time, I needed to do it and I feel so bad that I had to. I’m beginning to think Jules was right after all, I am and I haven’t been a good son.

I am so mean.



Utterly disappointed about how my day went, I walked back to school, unsure of where to go next and where to get money for tomorrow and for next week, in the hope to see Roy. He had texted me this afternoon that he went to school. He said in the message that he’ll wait for me in front of the bank beside school. Of course, he wasn’t there anymore so I took the time to check out what’s happening inside the school.

I found some Black people as I joined them (about 200 or so) circling around the quadrangle as the students and the Unified Mapuans’ officers seemed to be engaged in a heated open discussion. I found out they were talking about the next step the student ought to do regarding the Malayan issue. There had been confusion because of improper information dissemination. The discussion got more intense when renowned Mapua alumni and columnist, Nap Guttierez, impeded the debate and suggested that that it’s better if we students, he meant ALL 15,000+ students, gather at the whole of Mapua grounds to show the Yuchengco Group of Companies that we are serious in what we are fighting for.

He recommended that it must be done ASAP and not wait for the timeframe that the negotiating panel will give us. And I guess he had a point when he said that by the time the timeframe has ended, the students had already paid the Final fees which will make the Administration P200 million+ stronger. He even wanted us to change the dress code because he thinks it doesn't carry the school colors, so for tomorrow it’s going to be white (which isn't the school color either. tsk. tsk.), which makes me a day ahead. Hehehe.

In any case, The UM Officers justified why we had to go through the due process. They said there had been a contract signing between them and the admin prohibiting us to boycott the classes (which they and Nap said will only take us more on the losing end because we will be taking them off electricity and water bills to pay) and any strikes whatsoever before the final decision is out. The Central Student Council had given the YGC two options: one, make Mapua the applicant for the University status or; two, disassociate Malayan Colleges/University from Mapua in any way, the former then must be a separate school and a different entity.

According to the officers and/or if the plans will not be changed, our battle will be taken to the streets if the decision will not be in our favour by the 24th of February. Today until the 23rd will be the fixed ultimatum (ignoring their timeframe that extends til the 28th) for them to come up with their decision, which means a week from now. Let us all keep our fingers crossed.



My patience has been put to the test today in more ways than one. Again, I came to school for my 9 am Electronics class but still my classes were suspended. I couldn’t actually believe myself, I’m missing being inside the class! I’m finally realizing the bad effects of this whole protest thing but that doesn’t mean I’m getting to the other side. I just want this to get done and over with already. They give us back our name and it’s done.

I met up with Ranna, the first time actually (I rather realized just now) since the New Year came in. She went to school (wearing black) to get her graduation pictures (where she claims she looked fat), give me my requested grad picture of her and give me 2 sticks of different cigarettes. One was French, and the other was herbal. They (with Jules) asked me to try the French, which name I can’t remember, first. It was strong just as Ran told me but it was better than the other one, called Ecstasy, which I tried a few hours later. It had a bitter aftertaste and didn’t taste like cigarette at all. It was more of like some piece of paper bounded together that I wonder if I ever smoked, had cigarettes been made that way. Our brief encounter with Ran ended as we accompanied her to the 4th floor of the SM Manila to watch Phantom of the Opera, by her lonesome.

All the time, we have been waiting for Joy, my eccentric cousin. She had promised to see me today at 1 pm only to tell me this morning thru YM that she had to move it to 4 pm. She said she’d give me back the money I’ve lend her before, which I badly need right now because I’ve expended all my allowance, down to the last peso, that could have been for until next Friday. While waiting, we went to the back of SM and found a new carinderia Jules have named PCM (if I’m not mistaken). He saw those letters on a calendar posted inside the place. We had ma-ling and spaghetti, which incidentally, was the same food left for me in the house tonight.

By 7:30 pm, my dear cousin was still nowhere in sight, I wanted to strangle her. We had already talked about everything and have taken our discussion from one story to another until we ended up in an intense argument about being content in life and almost pissed each other off, and all at the expense of killing time. Still she was nowhere to be seen so finally, we’ve decided to leave because there is going to be more to that that I have to worry about: How the hell am I going to school tomorrow? Bahala na siguro.



This is getting insane. For the second time, this is a Black Mapuan day and believe me or not (I can't believe it myself), everyone was wearing black except for a dozen few which includes me! Since, I wasn't in school last night, I wasn't informed. Darn it!

I couldn't bear the furtive glances from my schoolmates and the United Mapuans' officers, so I've decided to leave the school before more people see me not wearing black. aaaah!! This is unfair!



This is a confession. Hours ago, I was with Jules and Mench and we have seen the movie… (drums rolling) Dreamboy. The two of them failingly tried to surprise me earlier in the afternoon. Jules steered me to the Odyssey in SM Manila only to see Mench pretending to check out some CD’s. It turned out that they planned to have dinner and watch a movie with me. Good thing, all my classes were cancelled because it was Mench’s treat.

I really wanted to see Constantine, because I have just read about its film review in the paper. But since Jules is a devout Kapamilya, and there seemed to be no way that he’s watching any other films than the ABS-CBN produced flick especially the movie’s closest rival, GMA Films’ Let the Love Begin, and because I was outvoted (Mench is a Kapamilya, too) there was no point in objecting.

The two of them accused me of being a Kapuso though I was never entirely one, but as our Channel 2 reception is not so good since the time Jolina transferred to Channel 7, we were rather constrained to transfer stations together with her. Only now that my father finally bought a new antenna, that I’m rejoining with my Kapamilyas but somehow, my family seem to have been used to GMA-7 already.

The Dreamboy movie was not that bad, although there were many opportunities that they have wasted in making the movie better. It was like Truman Show meets Notting Hill. And for me, the whole idea of the movie was good (albeit not new) but they focused more on the characters and not in the story itself. They had good actors and a good concept but in general, it was disappointingly written and poorly promoted. Even Jules didn’t realize that the movie was about a reality show until now.

They tried (and failed) to show the people that there is something going on with the main actors, Bea Alonzo and Piolo Pascual, which is way too preposterous - and have utterly taken the narrative of the story to the backseat. I think the audience now have much more sense to believe in everything they see in the silver screen and a personal connection between the actors is unnecessary. The movie could have been more competitive against the Let the Love Begin, which is topping the tills now, had they endorsed the story, and not the buzz on the actors, well.

This was the face of the Mapuan Valentine this year. The students and the faculty members alike gathered around Don Tomas Mapua's monument at the quadrangle to petition against the changing of the school's name to Malayan University. The first picture shows the pin used by some of the protesters.

I don’t really understand how my father summons the monster in him and I don’t know what he’s always getting at. He keeps on picking on my cousin, Lael and I don’t get how he could mistreat him in such a way. (i.e.) we were playing Word Factory when he arrived with my mother then he began looking for things he could have a reason to pick on him again. Of course, he never hurt him physically but the way he talks to him really gets to me. He looks at him like dirt and nothing more and what makes it more ludicrous for me is how he shows such kindness to other people especially to those he have helped (mostly, if not all his constituents from Bicol) get their own houses here in our place and have such cold attitude to others such as Lael and even his own family.

And what I don’t understand is why he has to do all that. What does he get from being such a pain in the ass inside the house and have a holy image outside? And to think, he came from what Lael is now, he should know exactly how he is feeling, living with other people just to get himself to school. I just can’t believe him.

A few years back, he and my sexually abusive cousin, Melody were the primary reasons why I don’t go home early. He, because I’m sick of him always being too domineering and his immediate niece, because she molests me and I got fed up and realized how it had been gross all the time (looong story) and I wanted the both of them to be asleep when I get home, albeit Melody still opens the door for me when I do. It was that time in my life when my own house felt strange to me, I couldn’t stop thinking how my life could have been a little better had he not been my father.

And Jules, I don’t need any of your criticizing comments here. I know how you like my father, and ok maybe he seems good at that to you but he doesn’t really know how to be like that to his son, at least and you don’t really know how it’s like to be his son. It’s easy for you to tell coz you live in a perfect world. You would surely ask me again to reflect on myself if I had been a good son, but tell you what, I’ve been trying for years to at least have a smooth relationship with him but all my efforts ended in vain. He’s good now, the next minute he’s not. He’s got certain temperamental tendencies that he just can’t contain and though I know he’s aware of his being unreasonable, he just couldn’t get himself to understand the certain differences the two of us have. And I still believe that when you and your child don’t understand each other anymore, that’s when you know you’re missing your most important part.

I feel sorry for feeling like this toward my own father, I hate myself for having to write this here but all these are true. His attitude made him the person I've always cared about least.



The Black Propaganda was highly successful (I've donned my ragged Che Guevarra shirt for a communistic air). Almost every single soul (including the school employees and faculty members) has worn black yesterday (I’m getting confused using that, why do I always end up doing this after 12 midnight?). And even those who apparently didn’t have any black clothes (to my disbelief), showed their support and cooperation by wearing something dark that actually looked black from afar.

I came in the afternoon and I wasn’t really able to join the campaign, and according to stories, there had been a some sort of a rally in the morning where the students sang the ‘Alma Mater Song’ in front of Don Tomas Mapua’s monument. It was funny when my storyteller told me that many didn’t even know the lyrics of the song and just went on with the others singing only the part that goes: “… and the M and the I and the T..” I can only wish I was there, I know that song by heart!

When I arrived, Carmelita Valdez from ABS-CBN was doing some interviews with the students and the people were still in front of the monument, cheering (for the first time, not jeering) whoever was talking in front. Some of the NAMA (National Association of Mapua Alumni) Officers were also there, despite the fact that some of them weren’t allowed to enter by the guards because they didn’t have enough sense not to wear black as they passed the gate like those who were allowed to enter, who changed after they did.

The classrooms and the halls at the North and West Buildings were completely deserted, almost everyone was out there doing their part. It was actually very moving how different professors from different schools (i.e., departments) lamented on the issue and I particularly liked one Mrs. Faustino from the School of IE who gave out a single but meaningful line almost in tears, which went: “Tinanggal na nga nila High School ko, pati ba naman college ko papatayin nila?” It was applauded with cheers from the audience which hopefully could get to Engineer Vea’s ears, who I presumed was in his elegant and posh office at the second floor of the Administration Building adjacent to where we were.

The only bad effect of the whole thing is that I had nowhere to go earlier tonight because the classes were canceled and I am not that used to going home very early so I went with Ryan at the back of the school, did some videoke and taken in some booze til almost 10 pm before I went to see Mench and took her home.



I’ve just arrived from the Lovapalooza 2 held at the Roxas Blvd., Baywalk, Manila. The things that happened today (technically yesterday) will surely remain in my memory for a very long time.

In the afternoon, killing time proved to be lethal. I almost got myself killed in just doing so. Feeling certain that the others will come late in our meeting place (SM Manila), I took the time strolling around the Metropoint Mall in EDSA. At exactly five minutes before the meeting time (7 pm), I’ve decided it’s time for me to leave but I guess Metropoint mall wasn’t ready yet to let me go.

I don’t exactly remember how it happened, I just remember my body being flown over from the top landing of the fifth floor. I tripped over and fell headfirst down the stairs. Halfway through my flight, I zoomed and slammed the top of my head right into a woman’s back. Ignoring her curses, I was just too grateful she was there. I could have broken my skull onto the floor if she wasn’t. And as if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, all my things were scattered all over the place, literally from the topmost stair down to the middle of the staircase where I was. All eyes were on me and the people around picked my things up for me and handed me one by one my things (It was like they were giving me trophies, I kept saying thank you’s) but the worst of all was when the security guard handed me the heel of my right shoe! Needless to say, I was terribly horrified and disgusted by myself.

I immediately called Jules, who was luckily still at home. I told him about the stupid accident and asked if it was right to pull out the other heel to make it ‘balanced’ just like in the old Mentos ad but he promised to bring to bring a super glue for me. So I had to go on the whole LRT line from EDSA to Central Terminal limping. Good thing it was rush hour and the train was too crowded for anyone to notice my catch-22.

We met at the National Bilog then we rushed to the park in front of the City Hall and tried to join my right shoe and the broken heel with his super glue. It was successful but I still had to hobble because I was anxious I might break it again. I was worried sick it might break off anytime later and I don’t think I would like to go searching for the heel if I miss it somewhere.

The Lovapalooza thingy was actually romantic, maybe it was rather mushy for other people’s standards but it was really cool for me. No, we weren’t registered participants, we just watched the other couples break the world record of most number of kissing couples at the same time, while an impressive display of fireworks boomed overhead. We have celebrated the pre-Valentine kissing festival together with Anne and her classmates, Sheina (now Jules’ ex) and Tina (whom I met at Anne’s birthday last January 7) and another creature they called Tryke- Santy (with his wife-to be, Cathy) and Mench (who came in a ravishingly sexy outfit and incidentally, counting the months we have broken up, February 12 marks our 2nd year anniversary) arrived at almost the same time just about a few minutes before the countdown.



The conflict between the school administrators and the students (and even other faculty members) rages on. The only woman professor in the Mechanical Engineering Department, the ingenious Madame Fe Noche (the first female Mechanical Engineer in the Philippines) posted an open letter throughout the whole school. It was very touching when she said that her 40 years in service would end upon the death of Mapua's name. Too bad (or too good), the feared lady -because of being reputed as very strict when it comes to plates, never became my professor.

Incidentally, the school president, Dr. Reynaldo Vea, who also happened to be a member of the ME Faculty, have given out a message through the Mapua website (how ironic, isn’t it?) that indeed, the school’s name is about to be changed. The decision was already approved by the CHED but for the meantime, it will be Malayan Colleges instead of the Malayan University. The latter will be in effect upon the compliance of the school to the requirements needed to have a University status. The Mapua name, on the other hand, will not be phased out in its entirety. It will be used as the official name of the College of Engineering and Architecture.

Even so, the students seem to have waged a battle with the administration. Almost all the students, including me (until now, I still can’t find any non-opposing parties except for the guards who scrupulously remove every propaganda poster in sight) still find it pointless to downgrade such an established institution just to pave the way for their financial interests. Again, this is a clash between idealism and reality.



The Afghanistan hostage-held Angelito Nayan has a bloated head. He is actually Muriel’s cousin and Jules (and his group in school) needed to interview him regarding not his abduction but about foreign policies blah blah.

After I posted my activist posters in school, I met with Jules at the National Bilog (a circular podium at the center of the National Bookstore inside the SM Manila. We’ve been calling it that for namesake). He told me that he needed to see Yeye (Muriel) and he’s been pestering me to look for her since last night (we live at the same area). But she didn’t have a phone so we had to go to her, meaning we had to go to Palar and try to keep being inconspicuous because we can’t be seen by anyone who knows me and my family. I could have been dead had they found out I were already there when I was supposed to be still in school.

We went to Las Pinas altogether with Jules' group, with the hope to get an interview with Muriel’s now famous cousin. By the way, Angelito Nayan will be sending Yeye to school this coming school year (if she passed the entrance exams she took at the PNU just the other week, that is) so we sort of assumed they were really close. On the way, Yeye’s been calling her other cousins because she didn’t know Angelito’s number. No one really wanted to give us the number and even told us that he’s not entertaining interviews irregardless of the matter. Angelito’s conceited brother, however, offered himself to be interviewed instead. We’d convinced ourselves that they were hiding Angelito from us and persistent as we were, we pushed through and thought that an ambush interview could be our last resort.

Yeye went ahead to the house while we waited far enough for them not to realize that we were already with her but Angelito, indeed wasn’t home yet and the family was still determined in saying that there’s no way for the interview. Nonetheless, Angelito’s brother gave an interview schedule for himself. Yeye pretended to have lost us and borrowed the brother’s phone. She then found Angelito’s number and scribbled it onto her palm.

Feeling victorious, we left the place and went on to John's place, which was nearby. We had dinner while Yeye tried to call Angelito only to be scuffled and yelled at for being too stubborn. I was sitting beside her and she wasn’t able to say anything more than the hello and the opo and the bye. Honestly, I can’t see his point of feeling too much of a celebrity. We’re not even media people and to think that Jules’ group is from Adamson (were Angelito graduated from), he is just too ungrateful. The poor fellas' need now to hasten to come up with another prospect for them to be able to submit the documentary on Wednesday.



I didn’t attend my only class Thursday morning. I have devoted the whole time putting up posters, which were directly advertising about the Black propaganda for Monday, in every building of the school. I really wanted to put one right at the entrance but two guards were assigned there. I waited for them to leave their posts but they didn’t so I opted for the most frequently passed by bulletin boards.

The whole thing in itself was thrilling and at the same time, scary. I’ve been shaking all the time and I had to wait for the halls to clear out of students and school guards because at that moment I still didn’t know how many were in favour of changing the school name and how many (if ever there) were not. I felt like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible trying to do something no one, I think, ever yet dared to do in Mapua. I have done everything alone in swift movements, completely aware of where I could be now had I been caught. But in that point in time, all I wanted was for the people who are in power would take time hearing what we, the students, have to say about the things that mattered to us and I knew someone has to make a start.

Using a folder and a hospital micropore, I have hidden the paper posters beneath the folders only exposing the parts were the tapes were then I would lean on a prospective space, discreetly pressing on the hospital tape then I would go away pulling the folder down and leaving the paper sticking onto the wall. Clever idea, it may sound but I have faulted twice leaving the poster upside down, so I had to rush back. Man, it sure racked the hell out of me!

In my escape, I was greatly in awe not only because of what I have done but also because I found others have also done the same on my way out. At the Mechanical Engineering Department alone, the consistent happy or sad polls were replaced with the question: “Pabor ka ba sa pagpapalit ng pangalan ng Mapua?” Yes or No, and as expected the yes button was ahead with more than 300 points but I still can’t believe 64 had voted yes. I presumed someone must have just played around with it. And outside the school were papers posted on walls and posts with a ‘No to Malayan!’ message on it, making it clear that a war had just erupted between the students and the school and someone even created an online petition regarding it. To sign click here. Now, I’m feeling great, I guess were getting somewhere here.

After a few minutes, I passed by again the halls where the posters were and I felt so glad seeing the other students circling around each one, I joined them and keenly observed their reactions (little did they know that the culprit was just in their midst) and I was deeply elated by every nod of agreement the message had received. It made me feel that they have somehow made my efforts worthy and I have done something that could make the school administration realize how their actions make us feel and could just somehow make them rethink their horrible decision.



The buzz is on. Engineer Cailipan from my Tribology class confirmed that the administrators had already approved of the school’s new name, Malayan University (good choice, blech!). What the hell were they thinking? They would take away a legacy and a history in itself and exchange it for a silly name? Whoever came up with that stupid idea must be put to death.

Julius was laughing at me when I told him about it. He knows very well how I am after that name. He thinks the Mapua name is one of the few reasons I’m still here, trying to have a good impression, even just by the name. I didn’t have to argue because I still can’t find any other reasons that can possibly be believable. Goodness! I’ve been in Mapua for nearly a decade (since high school, I mean) and not in this lifetime will they ever give me a college diploma (if ever I get one, whenever that may be is another story) with a strange and funny school name on it!

I’ve never really used the Bulletin Board in Friendster but just today, I have posted the same message 15 times! I’ve passed on a message posted by a concerned Mapuan (she may be thinking about losing the impression the Mapua name already have on the people in the outside world, as well) about the news and appealed to everyone to wear black on Monday as a sign of protest. She didn’t have to ask me twice, haha, I am the black man remember? I’ll just have to choose which black shirt suits the event best.

Just so, I have something else up my sleeve. I heard some people at the restroom this afternoon talking about the black propaganda (the message travelled faster than I’ve expected) but I still have to make sure everyone knows about it. Just pray I don’t get caught.



Roy, Bon and I were reunited after Roy’s absence in school for two terms now. We had spent the night over at Bon’s place, which was actually a boarding house, within UP Diliman. We have taken over the unoccupied ground floor with two rooms and a dysfunctional television set in it. Rem, Bon’s official girlfriend (according to him, which he takes back from time to time) tagged along (and so did Mench) so the two of them stayed at the family house about two blocks away.

But before that, the five of us had dinner together at the family house (Roy kept ranting about him not having a partner, Shane and he had already broken up). I, with Mench’s help, cooked the food, we had eggs mixed with sardines and plain sardines. Apparently, we were all tight in the budget.

At the Boarding house, Mench and I had our own room while Roy stayed alone in the other. I went to him twice or so and we ate the paninda’s Bon told us not to touch. They used to have a sari-sari store back there just like ours.

That night, Mench succeeded in making something out of our fragile relationship. She had made me realize that there is more to life than just my past and for the very first time, I have completely forgotten everything about it. In the darkness of that airless room, there was no Shiela, no Ranna, nothing of the things in my past. It was only she and I. And in the morning, back at my house I continued my sleep with a smile on my face, something that had never happened to me for a very long time.



Someone asked Bon why I am such a loner. It didn’t actually came as a surprise but it has affected me in a way Bon has never expected the information to have. The question made me feel strange and different. And it made me think hard, trying to answer it myself, but in vain.Right now, I’m in the library alone again. I’ve been pondering about that question for hours and can’t seem to find an acceptable answer just yet. I refuse to believe that there’s something wrong with me because, well, I’m not that really alone but most of the time, yes I am like that in school. I thought Ranna was the only famous loner I’ve known but I haven’t realized some people think that I am, too myself.

From the very first class I have been to here in college, I knew something wasn’t just right. All the girls but one in that class hated me; they said I’ve been spreading rumours about one of them having a crush on me, which was completely illogical. I didn’t even know them at that time! Since then, I never had a chance to befriend any estrogen hormoned creature from school again before Ranna. I had a girlfriend, Apple but the relationship lasted only two weeks. And what I was actually looking for was the kind of female friends back in high school. There, almost all the girls in every class I’ve been to became my close friends but here, only Ranna really reached that category and almost farther than that. Now, she is graduating at probably the very same time I am writing this, in the grand halls of the PICC and I am left alone, just again.

Almost every day of the past nine years, I come here in school feeling like a goddamned fraud. Here, I am surrounded by these intelligent people and it really makes me feel bad to think that I can never be half as good as them, no matter how I try. Just here in the library, they read books about pumps and hydro-electric systems while I go for the non-fiction books (here beside me is one which claims to have been a New York Times bestseller: Love_enter) from the non-fiction books section, which could have probably been provided exclusively for me.

Almost all the friendships I have frailly managed to have here in college were either doomed from the very beginning or short-lived because all of them were either kicked out (appeals denied) or have given up the idea of being here and get psychotic eventually or have already graduated or have shifted to other courses. Of course, there’s still Bon, Mina, Roy, Ryan and a few others but those friendships don’t really get that deep, if you know what I mean. And all that’s left were my acquaintances that had already found their groups just as when mine went separate ways. My last attempt in finding my place here was when I auditioned for the Mapua Concert singers, the only org I have tried to join but eventually had turned me down three times. I figured out they don’t accept good-looking people and it was a consolation that none of them really were.

It is a harsh world. And everyday I get out from mine to a harsher one.



It would be only a matter of days before my Thermodynamic subject gets officially dropped from my Certificate of Matriculation and have an instant grade of "9". I went to the Customer Service yesterday and applied for the Individual dropping. Yes, I'm dropping the subject in the third consecutive time I have taken it. Damn, I just couldn't bear myself sitting inside that room with Engr. Balberona any minute more. I think the nerd hates me, he never talked to me in the eye as if he would melt if he did. He's just too arrogant, almost indirectly bragging his being the 1st placer in the 2000 Mechanical Engineering Board Exams. Who cares?! And he's the only Thermodynamics professor who requires integration in every single problem. Uugh! Basing on the first quiz and assignment I have failed to complete, I just figured out there's no way he would pass me and I just can't afford to get a failing grade in that subject for the third time.

I'm seeing Mench tonight. We've somehow compromised to see each other every Friday. Actually, that was her idea, she says she won't see me in two months if she won't have the initiative to set an agreement between us, and I am somewhat obliged to abide to that. I've set a get together for Bon, Roy and me in Bon's house, so I'm taking her there. Hmmmm...

Mama is in Real, Quezon since the other day for a medical mission and won't be back til Sunday. Her absence, according to Jules, is being taken advantage by me ,which is partly true. The other night I bumped into some acquaintances on my way home (actually my fratmates) and we spent the night in one of them's house. We drank all the way til morning while all of us have either school or work in the morning. Geee.

Right now, I am in a computer shop, I can't open my e-mail inbox properly. There are girl students surrounding me and they just might think I'm a pervert if they happen to see the pictures inside.