Chapter One: Merry Scents.

It really just doesn't end, does it?

Things catch up on us without them even trying, and without even us asking for it. This is the perfect time to follow the craziest exit strategy that we never knew existed until now, until all else faded in the wild ringing of our own noisy thoughts.

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It all started when I shot my wide, curious eyes to the only vision in blue that would be the sole reason why I'd be too lost to recognize myself in the next five years.

And there he was, smiling gloriously despite himself and despite these insignificant students who never noticed his approaching.

Grace, who comically dragged her hesitant guest to the crammed table of six, muttered an excited blur of introduction. It didn't matter if everybody before her looked just as unsure.

The man waved his large hand at this, surprisingly unperturbed by the attention. The slight movement caused a sweet smell to float between us. I was not sure which surprised me more: the sudden, smooth movement or the overwhelming scent.

"Dan," said Grace in her signature genial smile. The man didn't quite make that strong impression to me though, not when he was standing there, looking slightly sheepish despite the obvious authority that he was still emanating. I would have thought he was quite normal if he didn't allow this girl in bob-do say his name that way. It was too informal and familiar for my taste.

These round eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses transformed to slits. I wondered if he'd ever remember our own names.

Too boyish to be that famed professor, I mused to myself fleetingly, unmoving from my position on the vinyl tabletop. My face was almost hidden by my crimson backpack, but he must have known I was scrutinizing his body language in the brighter rays of the afternoon sun that seeped through the glass blinds in my far right. The man named Dan was almost rocking in the balls of his feet, self-conscious and restless.

Everybody was either too impassive or too polite to look the other way where Yagi's rather youthful cousin wasn't standing. Dianne, Cyrus, Levon, Sheryl, Joseph and I already knew who he was, of course, thanks to summer gossip and whatnot.

The others had said hi.

"Dan will be our professor next semester. Isn't that great?" Grace went on, not even noticing the awkward air that hung about. She really shouldn't sound so happy about the impending doom, if rumors about this man were true.

No. It wouldn't be great at all. My future self, five years older but not any wiser, would have vehemently disagreed.

Dan, the smiling sadist of a professor, would have walked away with his impaling scent, and I, in spite of things, would remain unscathed and unchanged for the world.

"What subject?" Someone opened their mouth too soon. It was so like Levon to make the small talk.

"Automata theory," the professor eagerly replied in that same almost-embarrassed grin. His oriental eyes crinkled in a rather disturbing manner. I was sure he knew something that everybody in that group wasn't aware of.

Thankfully, the little party ended too quickly, and I was left to lazily reflect about my only class in the dwindling buzz of the cafeteria in this warm afternoon, easily forgetting the only man who would painfully change me in the next few years.

I would not have realized it but it would be the very day that my world made its inevitable shift.

Prelude to Chronicles of The Anti-social.

There are times that we wish we could just relive the affair for the sake of remembering. Like the most pleasant dream that we couldn't quite grasp when we awoke in a flurry daze--not in a state of clarity over things that might have been already lost in refined attempt anyway.

And, of course, there are times that we rather overlook, choosing to neglect the pulsating ache that never goes away despite effort, despite decisions, and despite time. It permeates in the heavy air but we are still feigning it. We are so good at pretending.

But we, as humans, are a sadist to ourselves, suffering to ourselves. Because we are endlessly stubborn and proud, and nobody knows that we feel this way. We bleed, and we would not acknowledge it. And we would not mind. Almost.

cheers for fears.

I am not sure which is more disappointing: the 4 Customer Satisfaction vs. 2 Dissatisfaction at work, the sleepless dayoff and Dianne and Butch's unexpected visit and my lack of enthusiasm, the Sinulog punishment in the form of being squished unnecessarily between the sweaty crowd of mardigras watchers, missing the fireworks display despite arriving early, not being allowed to go to my favourite bookstore as these people dragged me away to where they wanted to go just because they think I should not be alone (and my dormmates, including Paupau, think it is illegal), or their taunting about being the only one in the group of 7 who did not have a partner and who had to stick up to these girls and their male counterparts' urging to get myself a man already.

Maybe I should have been at least excited for the festival, but I was anyway upset about how everything turned out last night, about how people find me as a charity case instead of an independent individual who would not have minded being single until they rubbed that sore spot where it hurt the most. I dunno. I did not think I could ever be embarrassed like that after Paupau volunteered to play the matchmaker. It was...sad and humiliating, and it made me feel stupid and hopeless and infinitely ugly and almost desperate. It was unfair. So what if I choose to be alone? It did not matter too much before.

countdown to hell week.

Hahahahahaha hahaha haha haaa yeah. It's back to reality for us mere workers. And I am really starting to hate coming to work. Laziness aside, this industry isn't very promising to me anymore. The pressure and stress that come with it are not worth all the money I get every 15 days at all. So I'd really appreciate it if they just go sack me this Friday (the word "deliberation" irks me every time) and end my misery already. *sigh* That's prolly just the hormones complaining. Or the feeling of loss that's slowly eating me away. Yagi is speaking to me again, to ask advice about love life and whatnot. Engk! Wrong person to ask. But you know how I'd like to anyway help, so I tell him what I think about the helplessness that he is feeling right now. Yes, he is in love. And he's in love with...somebody else, which is sorta a relief, and annoying at the same time. What the hell was he thinking, hitting on me months ago when he is really into someone else? Aa. I think I can relate at some point, but it doesn't really help me feel less pathetic. So I just realized why I'd always think I'd never get married to anyone after he had asked. Thanks to recent happy events, and the bottomless insecurities that I think so. *sigh* I just hope I survive the day. Hug me, Mike. I so need one right now.