fluff

I am typing this from my Asus Eee, whose name I still insist on pronouncing weirdly even though I thought that wasn't the way it was pronounced and then discovered that I was wrong and I was right, because for the past hour I have been trying to clean out my computer's keyboard. You cannot imagine all the dusty fluff that comes out of the gaps between the keys. I suggest you try it out. It's extremely cathartic.

---

And so, the school year ends. The cuts and bruises and lessons learned are still there, and no one knows if they will disappear, since no one will notice them disappearing anyway. And in my case, the cuts and bruises part is literal, due to biking. Two days ago, I raced against August four times, and won all four of those times. He said that was because he was being a gentleman. About an hour later, he lost control of the pedicab, and I crashed into a gazebo.

It was a fun experience.

Well, he only crashed once. I kept losing control when I drove the pedicab. I even crashed into the sound system. Guia lost control not at all.

Hey, that rhymes.

And then the day after that I biked twice, once with Tram and Menez, the second time with Airah and Menez and Paeng, And Paeng suddenly braked in front of me... and I fell.

As a result I have bruises on my arm and shoulder, and a cut on my face. It feels weird.

The fun thing about getting injured is that you automatically have a funny story for people, and you're absolutely sure that it won't offend any of them.

---

The school year ends, in a way that does not signify that it has been ending ever since it began. The pictures are taken (sadly, before I got the cut on my face), the fair booths have closed, and the children who are no longer children are found to still enjoy volleying a ball over a net. One has to wonder why they enjoy it, and why none of the cars around have volleyball-shaped dents in them. The sun throws caricatures called shadows across the ground, the math grades have been handed out and the Sir Nat students are in various corners of Pisay, complaining and celebrating and mourning, the treasurers chase around those heavily in debt to the class funds, the autograph books fly from hand to hand. The fair days are quiet and lazy and are spent doing nothing at all, which is honestly the most enjoyable task in the world, and which, deep inside, is the sole desire of every student after three days of exams. The periodical test results are posted inside the SHB's halls, and the students either take efforts to check them out of take efforts to avoid them- who wants to spoil the last days of the school year? (34 ako sa Physics perio! bagsak ako sa Chem. perio!) Classmates who will forget about each other over the next months, or when the new school year rolls in, or not at all, chat about concert plans and memories and
throw insults and inside jokes at each other. Questions that had never been asked are asked, friends that could have been but never were are salvaged, and classmates who fall off bicycles are rescued and asked if they were all right. Despite the silence of the days that stay in spite of the loud music, the students are at complete ease, and they make special efforts to let everyone know that they are not. These last days, everyone knows, are only escapes, temporary refuges from pressures that will never be abated and from expectations that will never be met.

And so, the school year ends.

fluff

I am typing this from my Asus Eee, whose name I still insist on pronouncing weirdly even though I thought that wasn't the way it was pronounced and then discovered that I was wrong and I was right, because for the past hour I have been trying to clean out my computer's keyboard. You cannot imagine all the dusty fluff that comes out of the gaps between the keys. I suggest you try it out. It's extremely cathartic.

---

And so, the school year ends. The cuts and bruises and lessons learned are still there, and no one knows if they will disappear, since no one will notice them disappearing anyway. And in my case, the cuts and bruises part is literal, due to biking. Two days ago, I raced against August four times, and won all four of those times. He said that was because he was being a gentleman. About an hour later, he lost control of the pedicab, and I crashed into a gazebo.

It was a fun experience.

Well, he only crashed once. I kept losing control when I drove the pedicab. I even crashed into the sound system. Guia lost control not at all.

Hey, that rhymes.

And then the day after that I biked twice, once with Tram and Menez, the second time with Airah and Menez and Paeng, And Paeng suddenly braked in front of me... and I fell.

As a result I have bruises on my arm and shoulder, and a cut on my face. It feels weird.

The fun thing about getting injured is that you automatically have a funny story for people, and you're absolutely sure that it won't offend any of them.

---

The school year ends, in a way that does not signify that it has been ending ever since it began. The pictures are taken (sadly, before I got the cut on my face), the fair booths have closed, and the children who are no longer children are found to still enjoy volleying a ball over a net. One has to wonder why they enjoy it, and why none of the cars around have volleyball-shaped dents in them. The sun throws caricatures called shadows across the ground, the math grades have been handed out and the Sir Nat students are in various corners of Pisay, complaining and celebrating and mourning, the treasurers chase around those heavily in debt to the class funds, the autograph books fly from hand to hand. The fair days are quiet and lazy and are spent doing nothing at all, which is honestly the most enjoyable task in the world, and which, deep inside, is the sole desire of every student after three days of exams. The periodical test results are posted inside the SHB's halls, and the students either take efforts to check them out of take efforts to avoid them- who wants to spoil the last days of the school year? (34 ako sa Physics perio! bagsak ako sa Chem. perio!) Classmates who will forget about each other over the next months, or when the new school year rolls in, or not at all, chat about concert plans and memories and
throw insults and inside jokes at each other. Questions that had never been asked are asked, friends that could have been but never were are salvaged, and classmates who fall off bicycles are rescued and asked if they were all right. Despite the silence of the days that stay in spite of the loud music, the students are at complete ease, and they make special efforts to let everyone know that they are not. These last days, everyone knows, are only escapes, temporary refuges from pressures that will never be abated and from expectations that will never be met.

And so, the school year ends.