spell LOSER

It’s exactly seven days past since my birthday, for the benefit of those who deny they know the date, it’s the first of September. A certified Virgo. Hear! Hear!

Well, it’s not that I wished people remembered it but I was glad enough, my closest of friends did, none opf my love interest did so but why bother. On the pretext of bothersome, I just had my worst birthday in recent memory. I placed last among the AdZU contingent in the 16th MPDC and a terse Joey Neil made me end the night all the more sullen. But I guess, the heavens have pity, they made me the best laughing stock in Mindanao euphemized as the Best in Public Speaking. Shame! Shame!

Whatever! It’s not that I have to ponder on it forever but it does, excuse the term, sucks!I could have faired well if not for the momentary seizure of getting infatuated with this Rupert Jason… ugh.. do I still have to continue? Or maybe the audience has gone tired of this malignant affliction of mine. Fine then, let’s go the twist of the story, he’s gay. Flirting with an aphasic debater named Justin. Another twist, he greets Emann and Espie the required morning curtsies for aquaintances, both of them, except me. Do I have to text him first? ugh.. Do I sense desperation, Madame?

Henry and Al arrived at school yesterday, virtually celebrities in their own right. Yes, I am proud of them not for the sheer glory of association but I really know them, it’s quite different from just having known them from that nationally televised ANC debate. And how about me? Nada. The hanger-on have not.

Last night, just last night. Emann: Cyril do you feel something or anything about Marion? Cyril: NONE. End of story.

Spell LOSER please… M-A-R-I-O-N.

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