I descended the treads of the main staircase of the Beato Angelico building. Taking each step slowly, I would have probably given you the impression that I was drunk. In fact, I was barely sober from my Design class. I just submitted my second major plate and I was dragging my t-square down the stairs, monotonously thumping on each step. My tired eyes couldn’t help it. I needed to sleep, to be in my bed, hugging my pillows under the sheets.

I went to my friends and we de-stressed a bit. We laughed a lot, talked about boobs and stuff.

Feeling extremely exhausted from days without sleep, I skipped PE class and went home. In my bedroom, I slept like I haven’t slept for centuries. And my eyes were probably proud of me. I woke up at 8pm, feeling weak. Nevertheless, it felt so good. Like I was afloat.

My mother gave me money so I decided to go to the mall today. I viciously needed to buy the 6th and the last volume of Scott Pilgrim by Bryan Lee O’Malley and Michael Crichton’s posthumously published latest novel, Pirate Latitudes. My sister spontaneously dragged herself along with me because my original plan was just to go there alone and drown myself into books in bookstores which I usually do whenever I’m in my phase of depression.

We got to the mall and went straight to Comic Quest only to find out that Scott Pilgrim volume 6 is out of stock. But I was lucky to get a copy of Pirate Latitudes in National Bookstore. To slightly mend my failure of not having Scott Pilgrim vol. 6, I bought myself another book, The Supernaturalist by Eoin Colfer. The books pretty much satisfied me and my day.

But my sister wasn’t satisfied, so she forced me to watch Step Up 3D with her. It took her quite a long time to negotiate and convince me to watch it ’cause I’m not really a fan of the series and all. But she won at the end.

And so we watched Step Up 3D.

The movie was great, actually. It’s really entertaining and the dance numbers really blew my mind. But it’s cliché-themed, focusing on following your dreams and knowing what you want and all that. But what makes it better than the previous Step Ups aside from better dances, is it’s plot is quite unpredictable. You know the feeling of watching a movie and kind of knowing what will happen next? Well it doesn’t offer that kind. And even though the plot is speedy like only 90 minutes long, it’s pretty satisfying. It’s more than about dancing and the overused “follow your dreams” sound bite, it’s also about knowing and having the right time for things.

The right time for things.

It roughly applies to me right now. I feel boxed. Like I need to escape. My school, my house…freedom is nothing but an illusion. And I feel very clogged, I need to go out and breathe for some time.

But when are the right times for things? I wanna do a lot of things in my life but I fear failing to do everything I want because I feel like life is very short and I am caged within the four walls of my future. So I try to find a way out.

When the movie finished, my dad called and he said they’ll be out for a few minutes. I said I left my keys in my room. He said we could go home at 8pm. It was 7pm. So my sister and I wasted some time around the mall.

We walked around and ate.

On the way home, I was feeling inexplicably down and depressed. Maybe I didn’t like the night. Or maybe it’s because I was unable to buy a copy of Scott Pilgrim vol. 6. Or maybe it’s a psychological effect of my current sickness. Or maybe I’m just bipolar and I’m currently on my phase of depression.

What I usually do when I feel this way is I spend a lot of time alone. In isolation. So I can forget the world and think about whatever.

We finally got home and I swear to God, I don’t feel sweet, really.

For the highest ordinal number, mathematics was blowing my brain to smithereens. This time, it was my preliminary exam and I do not intend to fail or anything that will cause sure destruction to my grades. I want to repeat what happened to my Trigonometry grade last semester. I got a 1.75. It’s already epic in my classification due to my irrevocable and consistent hostility towards the field of numbers. But what have I done during that fragment of my life? What heroic act did I do to acquire such relatively high grade?

Earlier this morning before taking up my preliminary exam in Analytic Geometry, I was sitting by the dining table contemplating if whether or not the instant noodles served before me is acidic or not. (I am currently hyperacidic and it’s taking two weeks of medication. It sucks to be me) With the noodle wrap in my hands, I carefully read the ingredients and nutrition facts, meticulously spotting for something that would make my breakfast acidic and will make me vomit buckets during my exam. To my relief, I found nothing. And so breakfast was devoured and no vomit was released in my mouth thereafter. But I cannot conclude that my food was not acidic because I felt a slight stress in my stomach minutes after eating my breakfast.

My Analytic Geometry exam began with a worried surprise from me and my blockmates after seeing the test was not in multiple choice. Fuck it, I told my self. I did everything I could to my highest degree of knowledge and skill but I was still unhappy in the end.

I submitted my test paper to the proctor ten minutes before the time with two items left blank. Fuck it, I do not want to flunk math, nevertheless, there was no regret whatsoever that I didn’t engrossed faithfully in reviewing the night before or that I was born without my mother’s “math-loving” genes. It’s what existed at the moment that mattered and whatever there was in the past has been done and the future, um, fuck the future.

We live in a constant changing world and bending the space-time continuum is just merely an absurdity in reality (although it would be awesome to acquire such ability).

I do not want to live in a world of regret and longing, but in fulfillment and accomplishment.

I guess, I must keep trying, keep improving, keep pushing.

“As to what purpose brought you here upon myself in the middle of siesta time?” I asked.

“I fully request your immediate response to our questions regarding things of great confidentiality,” the Master Douche answered.

“You have my time, Master Douche,” I submitted myself for a few minutes, brought about by deep curiosity regarding the actual motive of their appearance.

For a few seconds, they held the same annoying facial expression which made me regret the will to entertain whatever their questions might be. “Amongst the ladies frolicking about in our area, tell before the Council who do you think holds the most of your appreciation and infatuation?”

I looked around in thought whilst examining the maidens all about. A few moments passed, I turned back to the Council. “Respectfully Douche Council, I have settled my choice.”

“That’s wonderful. I reckon you had a difficult time gathering these beautiful maidens in your head,” Count Douche, the second-in-command of the Douche Council replied. “Now, tell me, citizen, who is your pick?”

“That beautiful baroness over there at the shop.”

“Magnificent choice. I have to commend you on your good taste, citizen.”

“Thank you, Council.”

“GUARDS! Take thee to the nunnery!” commanded Master Douche, pointing to the beautiful maiden I had chosen.

“What?!” I protested.

“Now, proceeding to the next question…”

THE END.

We were supposed to be eight, but the other guy was in the province and chose country life over futuristic experience. photo (c) Minky Manalo

On June 1st, my friends and I went to Market! Market! for a mission — to play laser tag. At about four in the afternoon, we were taken inside a Star Trek-like room with sliding doors and neon lights. While we fascinate our imagination, the monitor in front of us began to talk. I thought we were going to be transported into another dimension in warp speed but the purpose of the talking monitor was to explain the mechanics and rules of the game. Besides our group, there were two little twin Japanese boys with their daddy and two other guys which the other one, who was wearing round glasses, looked like my high school batchmate.

When the monitor finished explaining, another sliding door opened and behold, in front of us was a hall where vests and guns were hanged at the walls. My friends and I were divided into two teams — the pink team and the blue team. Another sliding door opened and we marched ourselves into the battle arena.

A few seconds later, the battle began. Our vests began to light up and our guns were activated. Suddenly, out of astonishment, my vest was deactivated. I was shot, probably at the back. I looked around and saw foreign kids scurrying around us. The arena was dark and was only illuminated with neon lights. I decided to get into position, duck behind a wall and shoot an opponent.

A guy began marching towards me and I sensed he was shooting me, but my vest and my artillery weren’t deactivated. I suddenly recognized him and the lights on his vest. “Stop killing me, we’re team mates!” I told my friend.

I moved around, went up the terrace, hid on a surface and began shooting random opponents. The whole arena was filled with laser lights and futuristic explosions. Halfway through, I started to hyperventilate. I was sweating so hard and I faced my greatest enemy that made me defenseless for so many times during the battle — my shoelaces.

In the end, our bodies were wet of sweat, but I imagined it was blood since I was shot eighty-four times and to uplift the experience to the maximum degree of futuristic intensity. The scores were published just as we left the hall of the engines of laser war. I scored 4000, ranked 13 out of 21 players, and my team placed third.

It was a great time to end my summer vacation and I think I can hear an encore. And while there’s a sinkhole in Guatemala, my friends and I are planning to execute another laser war.

——
Visit LazerXtreme’s website at http://www.lazerxtreme.com.ph

Memento mori. It's Latin for "remember, you must die."

I just wanted to walk cos I was bored. Under the burning midday sun, I was deep in thought and I was just walking to no particular direction. I went from street to street, into narrow alleys even the stinky ones with brown stagnant puddles. Nonetheless, I was preoccupied, deeply contemplating as I continue my pace. And then I stumbled upon a village, took a left at a random corner and just continued my travel.

I stopped when I saw this house—it was abandoned with its windows and doors opened. It had a modern design, the sort of design you would see in brochures and flyers of housing companies, and not really old and ancestral. So I thought, why would someone ditch this house?

“Naliligaw ka ba? Are you lost?” asked a man from another house adjacent to the abandoned house.
“Hindi po. No, I’m not.”

And then I realized that the road ended there and it no longer extends. And I don’t remember anything that happened thereafter.

The car travels in a constant speed creating a cumulus cloud of smoke behind. From inside the speedy vehicle, you can see nothing outside but distorted lights painted on a black canvass. I do not mind it at all, until it starts to accelerate and speed up into an amount that is almost like the speed of light. I am traveling very fast and I cannot help but to feel very scared. So I take my hands off the steering wheel and grasp my seatbelt very tightly. But my legs are shaking and sweating so I lift them up from the pedals and take my knees up on my face. I sit in that position for a few minutes until I realize that no one’s controlling the car anymore and it is no longer driving very fast. I open my eyes and saw that everything is still distorted outside except for the bright moon that is clearly seen from the windshield. It is growing bigger and bigger. No, I am going closer to it. I am being pulled by the moon like the tide. And then I realize that life is full of stupid metaphors and I should stop over-analyzing things.

A few weeks before summer vacation. I do not know where my life is going to lead me.