Why the Square-Off Ad makes me want to have sex

The past days have been a gift to me. I had time to sleep and eat to my heart’s content. Prior to the workshop, I had to skip sleeping to finish all my requirements. I just hope and pray, the vigil and hunger strikes were all worth it. But, until the calendar strikes November 10, I will have all the hours to enjoy my Semestral Break.

 

For almost a month, I have been back to my old ways of outright lying and deceit through sms. Jannini has warned me that it was due to this sinful habit that my phones get lost, that it was sort of a divine way of telling me that liars do go to hell, but I chose not to listen. So it turns out that the usual ways do make me happy. Really.

 

I think I have been juggling identities for two to five persons and it makes the wait for the UNLITXT verification message all the more exciting and the hour of expiration more dreadful. When you’re in the height of virtual, er, mobile pleasure, you just wish there was UNLI for forever. To some extent, it keeps the boring blues away save for a toxic dose of Iisa Pa Lamang. This game puts me to sleep at four in the morning until the Square-Off ad began airing on TV.

 

Whenever, I see that ad, it makes me want to have sex. No, not because it is all too-stimulating or what (imagine Drilon making you horny) but the pressure it pounds on me is simply unbearable. Unbearable is such a weak word. What the hell am I putting myself into? National humiliation via ANC? Where is sex when you need it. Not a ton of chocolate or a sweet lingering kiss from G. could halt me from diving into the abyss of anxiety.  

 

When the ad’s frame highlights Mindanao and directly beneath it is Ateneo de Zamboanga University, I want to go into hiding or just get a vase and bang it on my brother who claps at the sight. Any moment from now, we’ll be receiving a call for us to fly to Manila and shine as the best provincial debaters or make a total wreck out of ourselves on TV.It may sound corny but this texting-induced psychosis is equivalent to any brat’s comfort food or to any wannabe’s stick of cigarette; for the meantime since sex is not yet available.

 

I will be with Myser and hopefully, anyone but Paulo. The horror of the thought of being with him exacerbates my appendicitis. The thought of being with Myser makes me blush. Pathetic talaga.

 

All I thought after that three grueling nights of tryouts and moi emerging as No. 1, it was going to be as easy as that –as easy as going to Manila to flirt and shop and be at Wowowee. I was dead wrong. I got chocked with hype and ambition that I almost forgot that I haven’t totally swallowed the reality of this burden and that I was not ready yet! What have I done as preparations? Write poetry. Wow.

 

I need help. I cannot expect help from Myser, I’ll just get distracted (enter Jonas Brothers’ Lovebug). I cannot expect help from Paulo (because he won’t help me at all).

Will Henri help me? Help me what? I haven’t identified what really my problem is. This is not a Humorous Public Speaking competition. No time to make jokes here. Or will I end up a joke? Please, no.

 

There’s still time, I guess. What am I going to do? Tomorrow or later the ad’s going to pop out of tv and I’ll be looking for sex again. ugh. I’ll write poems? Do the texting scam?

 

I’m lost.

 

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