One Day

I was writing down the date, i noticed it was 27.02.07. Ha? Ok fine, it's not impressive, I know. :-|

I mean, this whole countdown to whatever thing is depressing. It only matters when there's something monumental after you say, "Zero," like "Houston, we have liftoff." So the lack of any punctuation mark on this highly anticipated day is a resounding affirmation of my general life experiences - a grand entrance with a silent retreat. Kuya Koko would not be proud. He always said that it did not matter whether people applaud you when you enter, what mattered was whether they would miss you when you leave. I was never a good authority on making graceful exits. I always start out strong with roaring cheers and soaring expectations. And then somehow, in some way, I screw up. So goes the saying, "That's something only Maron can do," in reference to having everything in place but ending up with egg on the face. T_T

So what can we expect for Zero Hour? I guess zero as the name suggests.

But rest assured that I will not end the day without a fight. Tomorrow will be a great day. I can feel it. It will be an exit worth counting down for. It will be just as I make it sound like. (No not boring, smartass.) Tomorrow we will have our story, our closure. Tomorrow it all ends.

And new things will begin. B-)

Two Days

So it comes down to this. :-|

I try to drown out this stupid voice in me recently. It's been me giving ideas, stupid ones, crazy ones, ones that would get me in a heap of trouble. Someone said before, "Nothing is going to change in one night."

Part of me would like to scream out in protest, "No lives change even in split seconds, how much more one whole night?" But I resigned and subscribed to the idea that perhaps even if I did, nothing will change. I cannot cup the ocean in my hands. >_<

Haha. For a second I got you all going. :-P

Ok, the whole point is that this whole countdown thing is happening so anticlimactically for me. I mean, some ended theirs last Friday, while I continue as if something extraordinary should happen on February 28. And just so anyone wouldn't get their hopes up, nothing will happen. There. Happy?

But then again who knows. My little voice in the head is telling me crazy stuff. Like recently, it told me to buy coffee, go to her condo and surprise her. That would have been something. But before I could ruin my life for me (or for her, at least for that night), fate intervened with the funniest, cruellest, and most God-please-tell-me-it-isn't-so thing in the whole universe. And that I cannot divulge freely for fear of the truth that might haunt me for the rest of my life.

But in *fairness* :-*, something will happen on February 28. My deadline for comics and design class.

Seven Days - and Still at It

Continuing...

I stayed in school today, my mind filled with intense questions. Questions like: "How do I tell her?" or "Why should I tell her?" or even "How is the weather?" swirls in my mind like pieces of turd right before you press the flush. It was horribly hot, muy caliente, and that may have affected my thoughts for the better part of the day. :-S

I contemplated if I had enough testicles to go through with this. Countdown, shmountdown, I had to at least have a concrete plan. But I do feel that somehow, mababading ako. In that split second between fight or flight, I'll be thinking about the repercussions versus the lifetime of what-ifs. What should it be? :-?

Nah, I'm just screwing with you all. I hope someone out there could relate just so he/she'll be in spite. :-P

To be continued...

Eight Days

I'm bothered to find myself without an immediate task at hand. Frankly, what I've heard to be "Senioritis" has struck me bad. b-( It has struck me to the point that I write papers during class time itself. Woot. I'm so damn cool and senior. B-)

Anyway, I've seen my oh-so-gay creative pic in the Blue Roast CD. >_< style="font-style: italic;"> pa lang, sablay na... :-(

And so we have eight days left. It's strange. The closer I get to that day, the more I want to write as if each moment counted. I never bothered writing this often during January. No, not at all. I was busy reeling from holiday hangover (yes, all four weeks of Jan). So maybe I'm just extra sentimental now because I know what I write here after these eight days will no longer hold the same meaning. I would no longer be a student, roaming around campus, trying hard not to try hard and be like the rest of the sellouts. I will miss all this. T_T

Yet ironically, I'm happy to be rid of all this. I don't know. Maybe its better to reserve the rest for later. I'll just let it percolate and who knows how it will progress. @_@

Ten Days

I'll tell you why this isn't like all the other "oh, I'm graduating *senti-senti* reflection." T_T Why? Because there are ten days left. The way you look at it is either, ten days pa or ten days na lang. I'm more inclined on the former.

I won't rant on how all the stuff is due soon and that *blahblah* requirements *blah*. I'll rant however, on the fact that I want to end this ASAP. >_<>_<

Stories don't end when you close the book. ^_^