Goodbye.

yey_en, signing out.

You know why?

BECAUSE I JUST TOLD MY FRIEND "I LOVE YOU."

A declaration of love. And I don't even remember giving it out.

Well that's just fan-fucking-tastic.

Do I love him? Sure I do. He's my friend, for crying out loud, and I love every single one of my friends.

Am I in love with him? I hope not. I'm not going to fall in love with a Chinese guy, just to get my heart broken over some racial bullshit. (But that's another story.)

Yeah, I think he's likable enough, I'll give you that. And yeah, maybe he is a bit on the cute side.

BUT I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH HIM!

SO WHY THE HELL AM I BEING SO DEFENSIVE???

Beats me.

I just hope he'll just think I was too drunk to actually know what I was talking about or to actually mean what I said.

Please don't be all awkward. I kinda like you as a drinking buddy too.

"Ba't ka mag-isa? Nasaan nanay mo? Kawawa ka naman..."

"Ay, akala ko freshman ka rin."

"Ba't parang di ka tumatanda?"

"How old are you? 9? Nyahahahaha!"

"Hoy bata!" 

"Why do you look so young? Maybe it's the height? No... The way you dress? Di rin eh. Ang hirap i-pinpoint!"

"ID please. Oh you don't have it? We're sorry. We can't let you in. Only 18 years and up."

I GET IT ALREADY!!! I LOOK LIKE A FRIGGIN' KID!!!

Geez!!! Give me a break!! I'm 19 years old! Turning 20, for crying out loud!!! 

Some people may consider this a compliment ("Hey, at least you'll age gracefully...", or "Yihee, babyface daw sya..."), but when it's been said over and over and over far too many times and they deprive of certain privileges that really are rightfully yours to begin with since you are one year well over the statutory age limit, it kinda gets on your nerves at some point.

Someday, when I'm old and ugly and wrinkly, I'll probably regret spouting this load of crap in the first place.

But for now, please, pleeeaaassse, recognize me for the 19-year-old senior-year student that I am.

1. Allow me to plagiarize Celine Lopez by saying "I am gay man trapped in a [tweener girl's] body."
2. My nail polish is oddly reflective of my emotional state for a particular time being.
   • White means I'm feeling like a pure, holier-than-thou goody-two-shoes out to save all of humanity from mean-ness.
   • Pink means I'm feeling extraordinarily girly.
   • No nail polish usually means I don't feel anything. Manhid, ba. 
   • Black means I feel like the most evil person to walk the earth with no redeeming grace to salvage my sorry soul from a one-way ticket to hell. And just so you know, I don't choose to be wicked. Somehow it just happens.
   • Green means I really feel like myself, like I'm really me. (Does this make sense?)
   • When it's chipping, it means my emotional state is transforming. 

     As of the moment, my toenails are painted black.

3. I am not girlfriend material. Refer to No.1.
4. My life has no direction.
5. I am currently experiencing an extremely delayed culture shock.
6. I will die alone and single. Refer to No.3.
7. I am a very touchy person, much to my chagrin.
8. I am losing weight at an alarming rate, and I don't understand why this is happening because, believe it or not, I am not on a diet.
9. My wild side is trying to break loose from its prolonged captivity. Refer to No.5.
10. I have very poor will power.

I. AM. OVER. OOK. 

Rejoice! Rejoice!

I think whatever I'm feeling is for Ook is mutating into... something...

...that feels vaguely...

BROTHERLY...

Gasp!

One came from a very macho yet very "out" homosexual, and the other from an effeminate high-and-mighty kid with an, as of yet, still undetermined gender preference.

The former's hug is quite a bit more tolerable, as we've known each other for a while now and we've gotten along well enough before. I just wish he didn't do it in front of Ook. And that he wasn't wearing a wife beater tank top while hugging me.

As for the latter, well--all I can say is he seems to be under the impression that we've grown quite chummy over the past three days and that this puts him in hugging terms with yours truly.

Both hugs were first-timers, sudden, and unwarranted.

Normally, hugs are okay. Last night, however, I just felt like they were tools for invading my personal space. (Or maybe it was just the humidity. Stupid all-year-round tropical weather.)

If I didn't suspect these people of having the same type as I do when forming romantic affiliations, I would have pummeled them into next week.

***

Do I strike you as a huggy person?

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's started avoiding me.

Aaaaagain.

Hmm, I wonder if this has anything to do with the aforementioned incriminating "evidence"?

So I guess he's back to keeping a low profile, huh?

Hah. As if he can manage to do that.

He couldn't keep a low profile to save his life!

Not that I could blame him. It's not really his fault the townspeople put him on a pedestal.

Anyhoo, back to the awkward/avoiding thing.

I'm not sure who's worse off in this particular situation:

He, on the one hand, probably has the townspeople teasing him incessantly about it. Big effing deal.

I, on the other hand, may be charged with harlotry in corrupting the town's golden boy, and consequently, could now be labelled as the feminine population's public enemy No.1 and the masculine population's easiest target! Whoopee.

Oh well. As far as I know, we were both just really tired and the controversial event simply provided what we needed most at the time: something to lean on. Literally.

Ahh... but then again, the townspeople don't really have a bloody clue about the whole affair (no double meaning), now do they? Especially of its contextual basis.

But let them blab. They'll grow tired of it eventually anyway. I have more pressing matters to attend to. I do not have the time nor the energy to amuse their fanciful imaginations.

***

Hmm... surprisingly, all hell has not broken loose by way of a sudden avalanche that would inevitably plough over anything that gets in its way.

It's more like a slow lava flow--slow, steady, predictable, would ultimately give me a taste of Dante's Inferno, and would surely burn me to my very core.

***

I'm bangag.