Pre-Valentine's Sickness

A lot has happened in three of days of not writing in this blog.

1. Good news and bad news of Niño. Got a bit rusty for not training in debate. Luckily though, I was able to hang on by a thread just a couple of hours ago.
2. I got my prelim grade for Bio102Lab. Praise God for the passing mark.
3. Lately, I’ve not been performing quite well for my chemistry lecture class.
4. Change of speaker roles for Em, Nikki, Krista and Allen.
5. Missed, or should I say cut, some classes.
6. Science week preparations: the class shirt, a one-minute speech for Social Science, an usherette for CSJ.
7. Back to gluttony.
8. Finished writing for both Momentum and Mirage – now onto Momentong.
9. I still can’t find my missing uniform.
10. Vinz.

***
Apparently, – Kat’s word – I do not know if I should entertain the feeling or not. I mean, damn, there goes the shooting star right above my head. And it’s only up to me if I should acknowledge it to be the thing that it is to supposedly be – or what-have-you!

Blame it on stark serendipity! I mean, come on! What are the chances of him leaving his notebook right under your runny nose; of him meeting you the moment you arrive school the following day; of him also being trained and teamed up with Niño; of seeing him, yet again, in the hallways of your college building; and of him remembering your name, plus, the way it spells?

I hate it how he’s in his fourth year, and I’d only be joining in TDC once he graduates. I know, I know. I’ve always wanted to find a guy who’s into debate and who’s also in another college. But c’mon, can I even pull a stunt here? He’s way too gorgeous. And I can’t even make a logical flow on this paragraph because of him. I don’t know whether I should hate Niño for giving him my number or not. Besides, he speaks really sweetly. And man, those eyes… Sheesh.
The sky is falling, someone call Chicken Little.
Didn’t I warn you this’d mostly consist of illogical sentences?

Alright, I never really demanded that I get a Valentine just because the season’s playing right at every corner of each street. I am still contented with my life with or without him. Only though, I am starting to think about him more often than I should. Grrr.
Blame it on him having to adjudicate us yesterday; of him texting me Ingat!Ü; of him flashing that death-defying stare; of him and Cupid ganging up on me; and of him making me create a run-on sentence again. Grrr.

I can never be any more incoherent about such insanity.
Let me just leave it as it is.

For those who might know the cure for this illness, contact me here.