caterpillar talk

the teaser…

a long time ago, definitely not in a galaxy far, far away…

a powerhouse of geeks and nerds fell from grace.

this is their story: the hoopla. the circus. the drama. the teleserye. the battle. the trial. the parting of ways. the drawing of loyalties. the pains. the struggle. the triumphs. the hysteria. the folly. the near tragedy of it all…

-¤-

on the back cover…

every graduating batch has the so called cream of the crop. in our high school, it’s called section rho — the melting pot of superiority, the league of extraordinary students, the model class among all model classes, the star section.

rho ‘99 was all that. bastion of well-behaved geeks and nerds. di makabasag-pinggan. pool of role models. highly esteemed. ultimate source of pride of our high school’s intellectual (tor)mentors…

but all that changed one day when fate challenged rho’s place in ids99 history. the unthinkable happened and shocked the entire school population. on january 7, 1999, the mighty rho fell from the throne of honor and hit bottom with a thud… and that’s just the beginning.

-¤-

the story unfolds…

chapter 1: the duranta menace

taxonomical profile

some common names: golden dewdrop, skyflower, pigeonberry
species: erecta, repens, microphylla, plumieri
genus: duranta
family: verbenaceae
order: lamiales

thou shall not be deceived by the simple vibrant look of the golden duranta. harmless it may seem, it is an object of torture and has traumatized hundreds of students. it is difficult to fathom how much distress it has caused to many young lives.

in mrs. obsessed-with-beautification-drive’s desperation to repress the students’ tendencies to misbehave and at the same time improve the look of the school complex, the duranta punishment was imposed. it was a noble idea — more like a plant-a-duranta project carried out by the offenders of the system for the system — that hit two birds with a single stone. its implementation was governed by simple duranta mathematics:

misdemeanor = duranta planting.
crackdowns on delinquent students brought about the formation of planters and in-flux of duranta plants into the school. before long, the complex was filled with the yellow-green effect — the greener (if not golden) and livelier look…

but mrs. obsessed-with-beautification-drive seemed she could not have enough of it, and resorted to über-implementation. crackdowns were stepped-up such that even if a violation didn’t warrant a duranta punishment, anyone suspected of or caught committing a violation was required to do janitorial work by planting or re-planting durantas. that spoiled the noble idea. the sight of durantas here, durantas there, and duranta everywhere became sickening. soon, people grew too tired of mrs. obsessed-with-beautification-drive’s duranta planting routine and couldn’t care less if they’re caught misbehaving or not.

with or without the crackdowns, the list of deliquents grew… from freshmen to sophomores to juniors to seniors… and the recorded delinquencies ranged from missing the once-a-week flag ceremony to reporting to class late, to cutting classes to being seen in taboo places to unruly classroom behavior to unacceptable public demeanor to whatever demeritorious act imaginable. the long list fed the duranta menace and there was no stopping it from growing as the students were spurred to adopt a new kind of attitude…

along with it came a battlecry that mrs. obsessed-with-beautification-drive nor the disciplinary committee couldn’t get. she was too hyped monitoring the jungle of durantas while the members of the committee were too busy to notice that it manifested a dangerous combo of the repressed students’ cynicism and sarcasm…

“du-ran-ta! du-ran-ta!
we want duranta! we want duranta!
viva duranta! but no to —-da!”

chapter 2: the class of chosen ones
if there was one batch that clearly suffered from duranta planting overdose, it was class ‘99…

even without rule-breaking issues, the 208 members of class ‘99 experienced the onslaught of the duranta fever. the five sections of seniors — rho, tau, I, II, and III — underwent through sickening series of intensive duranta planting activities as part of civic operations of the mandatory citizen’s army training. in fact, everyone in that graduating class was forced…err…coerced… err… required to plant and bring to school 10 pots of duranta plants. try to do the math…

208 x 10 pots of durantas = 2080 pots of durantas from class ‘99!

oh no, don’t ask how those durantas found space in the small school complex, it must have been by magic. hahaha!!!

…but class ‘99 had lots of rule-breaking issues under its name. that means, on top of duranta planting as part of civic operations, there was also duranta planting for name-clearing. that means, the number didn’t stop at 2080 pots of durantas. that also means, if one did not suffer from duranta planting overdose, one still suffered from mere “duranta-seeing” overdose.

among the numerous delinquencies of class ‘99 were the following:

>> cutting classes
the list of names for this one was really long as there were times when whole sections were slapped with this accusation. the students had many reasons to cut classes: basketball practice (tau ‘99 went to ditucalan for this!), to give in to starcraft mania, just for the heck of it, to watch nba games, to enjoy the fiesta atmosphere, to finish requirements, to deliberately miss exams, to avoid seeing (tor)mentors, to have a record, to annoy mrs. obsessed-with-beautification-drive no end, to eat out, to meet friends, to go to places, to detoxify, for fun…

>> kalbo! (bald!)
out of juvenile fun, somebody shouted this out to a kind cancer-stricken teacher who was then on chemotherapy. indeed, this was a show of unbridled cruelty and merited punishment.

>> improper wearing of uniform
this was one of mrs. obsessed-with-beautification-drive’s “favorite” issues against the students. improper wearing of ID, wearing of black or fancy-printed bra (she probably has those bionic eyes!!!), colored or fancy-printed white socks (if they are not plain white, they’re no good), untidy shoes and even badly ironed uniforms warranted a duranta planting session under her watchful eyes. she was forever watching out for this kind of rule-breaking. even the boys, who wore slacks, couldn’t get away with colored socks because, from time to time, she would ask them to show their socks to her.

>> sitting on the benches along the covered walks during class hours
in the student’s handbook, this was not listed as a misdemeanor — why should it be? for as long as one is not disturbing on-going classes, i see nothing wrong with it — but mrs. duranta would insist on adding one’s name in her list for doing this. oh well. anything for duranta.

>> sporting the wrong haircut
there was a prescribed haircut for the guys, and not following it usually resulted to having good sections of one’s hair snipped off by bad scissors. plus, duranta punishment. (of course, duranta always figured into the picture!)

>> coming to class late
like cutting classes, the list of names under this one was long. anyone slapped with this issue needed to secure an admission permit from the guidance office on top of undergoing through a duranta planting session. in attempts to escape punishment and to clear names, the following reasons were cited: traffic (yeah right!), plain laziness, destiny, toothache, stomachache, headache, forgetting the time, losing a watch, being held up by somebody somewhere, God’s will, among others. it was a good thing nobody cited cardiac arrest!

>> having too much fun during christmas party
you read that right!!! the IV-I students of class ‘99 enjoyed their christmas party so immensely that mrs. obsessed-with-beautification-drive was convinced they were brewing up troubles and mischiefs; so she made them plant durantas! weird noh? well, those were the days.

>> gross disrespect, lying to persons of authority, conspiracy and insubordination
these four issues weren’t concocted by someone deranged from out of the blue. they’re outlined in the student’s handbook as grave offenses and they’re punishable by expulsion from the school. rho ‘99 (of all sections!!!) was charged and judged guilty of these four delinquencies…

to be continued in paskin episode…(part 2)
until chapter 2 pa lang ‘yan!

“We find greatest joy, not in getting, but in expressing what we are… Men do not really live for honors or for pay; their gladness is not the taking and holding, but in doing, the striving, the building, the living. It is a higher joy to teach than to be taught. It is good to get justice, but better to do it; fun to have things but more to make them. The happy man is he who lives the life of love, not for the honors it may bring, but for the life itself.”
– RJ Baughan

letting the gift go
-=-vkpm, 2005-=-

because i’ve held it in my hands for so long;
because it asks to be set free;
because it looks at me in the eyes,
silently accusing me of hurting and killing;
because i cannot bear to be reminded of that accusation
every time i see it sulk a little more
for every moment that passes;
because i have no wish for it to die;
because i am convinced that it deserves to take flight;
because it is also my desire to see it soar so high –
higher than i or anyone can ever go;
because to grant it its freedom is my choice to make;
because to loosen my grip means i’m going to trust;
because i am wrong and it is right –
i cannot protect it forever from the harsh realities of the world,
the universe will nonetheless conspire to protect it for me.
i just have to believe that it shall live… it will live
to make somebody else as happy as i will be.

i’ve been out of high school for almost six years now, and here i am still reminiscing about…

¤ her rusty and run-down buildings.

¤ manang sikad from whom we bought our candies, chips, and manggang hilaw until she and the likes of her were forbidden from entering the campus.

¤ heaven a.k.a. the elevated array of (in)convenience stores within our jungle complex. one needed to take a trip to heaven i.e. climb up some creaky make-shift stairs in order to purchase anything… from candies to paper to ballpen to pencil to chips to banana cue to camote cue to whatever. heaven was eventually closed because, according to rumors, illegal drugs were also sold there. hmmm… i think it was closed because the canteen just wanted to do away with competition. hehehe.

aside from them, i also remember these…

if in other high schools sections were named after virtues or scientists, ours were named after the greek letters and roman numerals. that means you wouldn’t encounter sections matulungin, madasalin, mapagmahal, mapagkumbaba or einstein, maxwell, rutherford in our complex. instead, you’d hear about the sophomores of delta and epsilon, the juniors of kappa and lambda, and the seniors of rho and tau, as well as the sophomores, juniors, and seniors of I, II, and III.

once out of high school, those in the greek sections could claim to be part of delta kappa rho, epsilon lambda tau, delta lambda rho, epsilon kappa rho, delta kappa tau, epsilon kappa tau, delta lambda tau, or epsilon lambda rho. with those possible affiliations, you’d think that students belonged to fraternities or sororities, but nooooo… for the record, frats and sororities were (and still are) forbidden in our school.

by the way, you are currently reading the thoughts of a delta kappa rho who to this day hangs out with the likes of epsilon lambda tau and epsilon kappa rho.

back then, we only had three major subjects: math, science, and others. with deeper emphasis on math and science…

our high school was were our delicate cerebral matters were first subjected to intensive mathematical and scientific torture… er… training under the watchful eyes of intellectual mentors who stopped at nothing in pushing us to and beyond our limits. it didn’t matter that we were too young to be driven to really crack our heads with concepts which were more apt to be learned in college. we were molded to endure, to meet and exceed expectations with mind over matter approach. it was up to us to put our hearts somewhere safe because, most of the time, the training dealt with the mind devoid of its heart.

all for the names of science and math, we had…

¤ arithmetic, algebra, geometry and integrated science during the first year.

¤ algebra, geometry, earth science and biology for the second year.

¤ advanced algebra, statistics and trigonometry, chemistry and science research for the third year.

¤ selected topics in mathematics, calculus, physics and science electives (physiology, organic chemistry, and selected topics in physics) for the fourth year.

we had those as well as the other equally demanding subjects which we had to take every year for four years: filipino, english, values education, physical education, health, music, technology and home economics (business and distributive arts — where i learned to read and write gregg shorthand, dressmaking, foods, drafting, woodwork, electricity, handicrafts), social studies and history.

needless to say, high school in our high school was a painful, time-consuming, and stressful yet rewarding process. we were far busier than some college students. a lot of people who observed us from outside our complex thought that the things we were made to go through were social life-disabling. well, from our point of view, they were not that disabling. really. contrary to beliefs, we were not mere thinking machines. us? thinking machines? thinking, yes. machines, no, we’re definitely not… but we’re capable of making people think of us that way. hehehe.

we had moments of seemingly-endless torture due to math and science overdose, but we also had moments of fun, fun, fun.

aside from being made to do number-crunching, scientific endeavors and logical reasoning, we were also molded to become thespians, total performers.

year after year, we were required to come up with our own group presentations, in which we were all expected to be at optimum performance level. no holding back.

cry. wail. do comedy. dance. sing. act. entertain. in other words, we were subjected to pakapalan ng mukha. daig pa namin ang mga sumali sa mga search-for-stars contests. there were no exceptions. we were made to forget limits. the goal was to impress our difficult-to-impress (read: obsessed-with-standards) teachers.

we had broadway presentations, puppet plays, noh plays, and whatever plays — all of which demanded much of our time and showcased our talents, resilience, creativity, resourcefulness, and our intense determination to strike with awe the powers that be.

we mastered jose rizal’s noli me tangere and el filibusterismo novels chapter by chapter through acting. not only did we learn the stories, our acting were also polished, and our abilities at adaptation were put to test every meeting day. pati baluktot na tagalog namin, nahasa rin.

from the outside, we might have looked like we didn’t have lives outside our acads… but that’s far from reality!

despite our hectic schedule and time-consuming, slow-death-inducing requirements, we somehow learned how to find time to “detoxify”.

with “detoxify”, i mean, going out, enjoying an acad-free day or hour or moment.

from our respective houses to the school in tibanga to internet cafes to the children’s park to the lawns of redemptorist church to the likely and unlikely nooks of the city proper to the cool waters in the swimming pools of timoga to that playground in npc compound of ditucalan to dalipuga falls to the beaches in iligan… we enjoyed stress-free moments and made our marks (and did some crimes). hehehe.

there were times, too, that we got carried away and gave in to juvenile delinquency. in fact, we kept the members of the disciplinary committee working 24/7. we got them paranoid but we’re quits because they made us paranoid, too. hehehe…

by the time we were about to leave high school, everyone in my batch had earned his/her share of disciplinary sanctions! but i guess, the disciplinary sanctions and the worst meted on us deserve to be shared in a separate blog entry. masaya kasi ang worst na tinutukoy ko. celebrated case!

next up: paskin episode (a.k.a. the celebrated case)…

seeing this picture of my youngest sister’s high school barkada brought back a lot of memories.

it has been almost six years since the last time my high school batchmates and i wore our uniforms: pink skirts and white polo blouse for the girls and black slacks and white polo for the boys. yes, it has been almost six years since the days when our complete school get-up included black shoes and white socks and our batch’s signature maroon IDs.

us…rho of batch 1999.
i just had to encircle that feet on the side and label it with “my feet”. in one of the few class pictures taken during senior year, i got the misfortune of being cut out of the frame (i actually blogged about this before). hmmm… how bad can that be? out of 38 rho students, why did it have to be me?

ah, but more than just the uniforms, high school was memorable because of…

prof. momma rockstar:
dancing, basketball, bands, and more dancing
a.k.a “rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ in the river…”

she’s one of the weirdest teachers we had. she’s the only one among the formidable league of professors in our high school who would do a live rock performance in front of the entire student body and the rest of the madlang people. her brand of rock performance? complete with headbang, wild-looking long hair, hoop earrings, rockstar make-up, get-up and attitude. cool, huh?

and oh! the things she made us do!!! pair dancing. aerobics. basketball. solo dancing. all these and more became essential parts of the physical education (P.E.) course work during our senior year, when she was one of those who lorded over our young lives.

we started dancing the swing and the chacha with all the gracefulness we could show, but she really really saw to it that we all learned to dance boogie (or else…). she drove us hard to do her bidding and since we were somewhat fearful creatures then — trained to endure, go through anything and surpass expectations even if we didn’t like what we were made to do — we danced to her tunes, and did all the crazy and seemingly bone-breaking moves.

it was around that time when i was convinced that i could dance.

…and ‘though not everybody’s born to play basketball, she made all of us learn how to play the game as if all of us were destined to be the next michael jordan (asa pa!). we even had a tournament! the tournament gave all of us reasons to feel butterflies inside our stomachs. her rules were simple: come wearing the wrong color and without a player number, you’re out of the tournament! commit a foul (deliberate or otherwise), expect minus ten points from your grade! do travelling, double dribbling, over-head dribbling, five-second violation or stepping out of the line and you say welcome to minus ten points per violation! worse, the only way you could earn your grade was to make a successful shot. no extra credits were given to steals and assists. ah, but playing basketball and the tournament itself was fun! it was a test of endurance and brought each of the competing classes closer together.

nothing could beat the last thing she asked us to do though: perform as if you were born to entertain! for this requirement, only a few were allowed to put up their bands and most of us were delegated to perform solo in front of her and the rest. final-P.E-performance day was a day of reckoning… and also turned out to be macho dancing and sexy dancing day. i don’t know what got into her head, but her grading style was such that the bolder you go, the better your mark. those who played safe and stayed away from sexy dancing (like me and like most of those from my class) got not-okay grades but those who came close to “giving their all” were able to fulfill that final requirement of her course with flying colors.

i heard that this “perform solo in front of me and the rest” tradition of hers was stopped the following year because (finally!) somebody had the guts to squeal and a parent formally filed a complaint.

in fairness to her, the basketball tournament, although very tiring, was really fun!!!

i played point guard, did a lot of steals and assists, but never made a successful shot (i don’t remember ever attempting to shoot the ball into the basket, anyway). hehehe. fortunately, i never committed a foul nor did a violation.

even after all these years, the other point guard on our team, jan a.k.a. girl number 23, deserves to be congratulated. she may be the shortest girl in our class, but she’s definitely our best player. most valuable at that! you should see her move with the ball. jan, bow jud mi sa imong basketball prowess! naks, special mention…

sadsad
a.k.a. disco. school dance.

back in high school, we never ran out of reasons to hold dance parties: victory ball (even if there’s really no victory to celebrate), acquaintance party, student’s night, fund raising, halloween, valentine’s, name it. i swear, although i was nerdy, i never missed a school dance during high school. but then… now, i could only laugh at the music we used to dance to and sing along to back then… backstreet boys, spice girls, 911, code red, boyzone, hanson, the moffats, solid harmonie(?)… syet. olats. nakakahiyang i-reminisce. ayoko na. wait, i remember happily square dancing to the beats of my sharona and new age girl, and forming human snakes that go all over the dance floor, too! hahaha. hahaha. hahaha. tama na. this is getting humiliating. bwahahaha…

but if there’s one thing that’s common to all the sadsad during high school, it has something to do with all those moments when the music would suddenly stop just when everyone’s sweating in the dance floor doing all those moves, and an announcement would go like this: “paging ms. tina babak, your mother is waiting for you outside” or this: “paging mr. diego hindiluna, your parents are looking for you.” ahh, announcements like those would immediately be followed with jeering. if you happened to be ms. tina babak or mr. diego hindiluna, you’d want to be not seen in the campus ever again.

duranta mattah
there eventually came a time in our high school life when every wrong move meant donating, planting, or transferring a duranta.

back then, it seemed that nothing else could ever come out of the mouth of one of our guidance counselors except the word “duranta!”. she must have been dreaming of the durantas day and night that she resorted to displace her affinity for durantas on the unfortunate students who are caught committing even the very minor misdemeanors. in record time, the equivalence of janitorial work to the word duranta was established.

… and duranta mathematics was born.
standby in the covered walk = duranta!
be suspected of being late = duranta!
be late = duranta!
cut classes for no good reason = duranta!
cut classes to watch NBA, to play starcraft = duranta!
be seen, be merely suspected of doing a misdemeanor = duranta!
one eeny weeny bit of wrong move = duranta!
tsk. tsk. duranta here. duranta there. duranta everywhere.

the mere mention of the word duranta eventually sounded like torture to our ears, and the sight of durantas all over our small high school complex became torture to our eyes. we had too much of the durantas that keeping a straight eye at the sight of their yellow green or golden bushes became an ordeal beyond tolerance; we developed “allergic” reactions. why and how mrs. obsessed-with-beautification drive managed to turn a simple ornamental plant into an object of torture, is a puzzle left uncracked. her powers were beyond us, and she was of a different kind: seeing the durantas flooding the complex was probably her drug.

… but did the duranta punishment deter people from misbehaving? nooooooooooo… asa pa! at best, it led the students to test the limits even more by working on creativity and improving the strategies of escaping punishment. harharhar.

fast forward to almost six years later, the sight of durantas would only drive us to laugh. and somehow, seeing them now induces nostalgia. aye, gone were those duranta days.

us…now (read: almost six years after).
hahaha. fortunately for me, the one who took this picture was kind enough not to cut me out of the frame.
walang panama ang starstruck and star circle sa amin!!!

to be continued…

"In God we trust, all others we virus scan."
–Author Unknown

i don't know what's with some people.

just recently, i chanced upon the friendster profile of one of those connected to me and found out something which made my blood run cold: three of the five photos he posted were pictures of me! more than that, i don't have softcopies of those pics… but he has. he has! putik. whatever gave him the right to post those pics (my solo pics!) in his account? paksyet. paksyet talaga. they are not his and he definitely has no right… no right at all to make people think that we are close or that i am his or that we are an item. i don't even know him personally! we are far from being good friends, and i don't remember ever talking to him.

you might think that i'm just being so paranoid and all. maybe. i'd rather you tell me that after you've gone through everything that's written here…

-¤-

shortly after i got out of college, i got a call from someone whose number is not registered in my phonebook. i answered the call but no one was talking on the other end, so i cut the call. then came the ringing again. same number. i answered. still, the other end was silent, so i went silent myself and waited for the caller to cut the call. just as i wanted, it ended. then came the ringing again. same number. argh! i received the call but did not say anything. instead i waited for a voice on the other end. moments passed. i heard nothing. then, the call was cut.

i did not know who called, but i have the number. so what did i do? i asked my friend tiff to befriend the owner of the number. tiff pestered whoever was receiving her messages no end until she got the information we wanted. according to whoever received tiff's messages, he was innocent. it was his boardmate who was to blame — his boardmate who bought a copy of my graduation picture to paste on his bed board. juice mio, how creepy!!! kaya pala di ko mahanap-hanap ang picture ko! had i been a showbiz personality, i could understand the business with my pic… but i'm not. i'm not! plus there's the fact that he got my number!!! how else could that call be made?

creepy to the max!

later on, "the boardmate" used another number to contact me and tried to get friendly with me via sms. i made my replies carefully, my words giving the impression that, had we been talking instead of "texting", i was speaking in clipped tones. all the while, i was asking him to give me my picture because it's not his to keep but mine. days later, he gave me instructions to get a mail from the school's post office, saying it was something he left there for me. paranoid being that i am, i didn't want to get the letter myself. i did not even want to open it. i jokingly told my classmates that it could be a letter bomb and i didn't wish to die so early. still, in their presence, i ended up opening the envelope and there inside was the pic and a letter written in what looked like a parchment paper (in fairness). the letter contained apologies, friendly buzzes, and congratulatory lettering. the content was okay. the content seemed okay… until i reached the back page. waaaaaaaamaaaaaa!! my hands went cold.

"pagkabam…sorry gud!… sorry na gud!"

he used expressions which were then exclusively used by me and my close friends! anyone reading that part would think we're so close. we're not! not in any way!

that's not all there is to it.

at one point, "the boardmate" flooded my phone's inbox when he sent me text messages asking why i didn't inform him that i left iligan and demanding to know why i left. hello??? who is he to be informed?! we're not close. besides, as far as i know, i didn't (and i still don't) owe anyone an explanation.

apart from that, and apart from sending me e-mails, the creep put up a webpage in geocities with two of my pics (which i don't have softcopies of!) on it and lines of my second favorite poem crawling from bottom to top, just like those movie credits. what was weird was that my pics would appear one after the other and then would fade to give way to photos of hermione granger. the background? flash-animated. twinkling stars. paksyet. i want to have that page deleted.

the person probably has a copy of my bio-data. he knows too much, he memorized even my parents' names. waaaaaaaaa. he's a little bit gutsy, too. he called up the house, looked for me and when told that i wasn't in iligan, he attempted to befriend my youngest sister. putik! it's a good thing people in the house aren't too trusting (just like me), so he didn't get much information. it was a blessing in disguise, too, that my subscriber identity module (SIM) was rendered useless when it went loco. in effect, he lost his sms contact with me when i switched to another SIM.

never had i felt too bugged in my whole life! how then can i ever begin to trust people a little bit more?

-¤-

i thought there was only one person like "the boardmate". i found out quite some time ago that i was wrong.

in the forums board which i used to frequent, somebody had the gall to post my pic without my permission as part of his thread entries, and gave this explanation:

"Look, I'm not trying to piss you off or anything. The picture is good and I want these people here to see it. I'm also not joking about the things I wrote about you."

so?

hello?? i'm not public property. i deserve my privacy, and i certainly don't need publicity.

"I was just wondering, why didn't you like it when I posted your picture..? ..maybe you felt uncomfortable thinking of the fact that other people are keeping your pictures.. You shouldn't.. You should think of it as a compliment.. I have your pictures because I look up to you"

an attempt at flattery, eh? it won't get him anywhere.

i don't fall into the habit of fishing for compliments from people i don't know, and flattery turns me off big time. in fact, i don't end up being flattered; i end up disturbed. people who can't trust me with their identities shouldn't expect me to believe their statements. if i need an esteem boost, i'd rather be affirmed by my closest buddies for they are the ones i trust. besides, when other people who are not close to you keep your pictures without your knowledge (most especially pictures you yourself don't have softcopies of), kabahan ka!!! stalking is stalking, and it's supposed to be illegal.

"We're gonna have an alumni homecoming.. I think it's gonna be between christmas day and new year's day.. I hope you can come so that I can see you and maybe I'm gonna have the courage to approach you and introduce myself.. It will break my heart if you don't come."

i count on my own maybe's but not on other people's, and emotional blackmail seldom works on me. i believe one should never be held guilty of breaking somebody's heart. if somebody's heart gets broken, it's that somebody's fault, not any other person's.

i went to that alumni homecoming because my high school friends and batchmates were there. i made sure no one i never knew from before could ever approach me by choosing to stay near my big and burly former classmates in high school, hahaha! safe.

"about the pictures.. I got them from someone I know.. he says "idol jud nako si (my name here) bai".. see?.. it's not only me.. I was just the only one who is very vocal about you.. daghan mi.."

oh mai. creepy to the infinity.

-¤-

what these people don't know is that i already had their names and identities checked. they think they've been careful enough not to leave too many traces, but i'm gifted with some "detective skills" and i know how to put them into good use.

call me a stalker stalker. if you stalk me, let me know and get ready to be stalked back. i play fair, you know.

contrary to what some people would like to believe, one cannot find everything wants to find using google alone. it also pays to know the right people in the right places.

what the…? for all i know, they could be reading this blog. hala gudlak.