Hellooooooooo.:D

I actually don't feel like greeting all you random boogers (nice and soft and white and sticky boogers, that.:D) since I just woke up in the wrong side of the bed at the wrong time of the night in the wrong house of a friend with goddemnitall, mosquito bites flecked on me arms. HRRRRRRRRRR. EEETTCCCCHHHHHHH. FUCK. I AM HUNGRY. (Not again?o_0)

Hoooooooooo, I feel so me and not so me. Been going places, parties, meeting old people, new people, dropping dead stinking drunk every morning, my head wandering in a haze of the ethereal dimension--of physics and philosophy again, that by no amount of blogging would capture the quintessence of my thoughts unless I plant my derriere on the computer chair and start writing with the same frame of evanescent streams of consciousness which otherwise left them all musings floating into the forgotten regions of cerebral garbage in my head. They are so fleeting, so ephemeral, so vague, and yet captivating and alluring and ominous and portentous, like an alarmingly lucid dream portraying the transmundane truths and answers ever sought by man, then just like a dream, leaves you unwittingly dumbfounded and blankminded with a poignant pang of penetrating enquiry--all of that transpiring in less than a minute of absentminded noetic mental expedition. One week without writing required me to become more garrulous and open to immediate persons of insanity. Which is not good.

I fell in love for one day, actually yesterday to put. With a crazy buffoon. Wide curious eyes. Pouting lips. Laughing trip. Surreal kisses. And then he had a large belly. And I lost interest. HAHAHA.XD (Shet, ang babaw ko. Then again the ex I'm supposed to meet this semestral break is pot-bellied too, not to mention, "short, fair, and nevermind"--the diametric concupiscence for the tall, dark, and handsome humdinger.) Which reminds me, may bagong girlfriend na ex ko!X0 Hindi ko matanggap! Hindeeeeeeeeeeee! Ang kapal magpaasa tangina, kala mo kung sinong namimiss ka tas may bagong GF! SHET! By the love of Aphrodite I curse him to turn into a...... chicken!XP (Sumpa ko to, ano ba, wag nang mangeelam.)

And about my grades... I'm on the President's List!XD HUZZAH!XD Mind, that's a notch higher than the Dean's List. (Apparently Deans are subordinate to Presidents and them campus Presidents are subordinate to the national political executives (President / Prime Minister; Hooo, PolSci!XD) upon which you can syllogize that the national President's List prolly includes exceptionally gifted and talented chipmunks like President Double-you Bush and President Estrada and David Blaine and Justin Timberlake.) And I have an average grade of 1.33!XD WOOHOOO! To think, I didn't even lift all ten fingers, idiomatically speaking.:p

Academic
English - 1.25
Mathematics - 1.0 (My heart is still in Math. Sniffle.)
Araling Pilipino - 1.50
Political Science - 1.75 (And I thought I'm going to fail this subject!)
Latin - 1.25 (And this subject!XP Midterms anyway.)
Information Technology - 1.25

//correction: 1.0 pala ako sa Araling Pilipino! :p Now I have an average grade of 1.25!:D

Non-academic
Scuba Diving - NYA (Not yet available.o_0)
CWTS - NYA

Hmmm. I miss alcohol. Tres Cepas!XD

...hamboring, boring entry.

Book Review: Perfume by Patrick Süskind

How exactly is it to narrate a whole novel by the mere olfactory sense (nose) alone? When we're mostly accustomed to read and picture the scenes of a storyline by which they are described by the sense of sight, hearing, touch, this book practically restrains that wont and harbors onto the very overlooked sense of smell. Yes smell. The novel reeks of scenes from Paris, with a protagonist named Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, a subfusc man born with the absolute olfactive gift for sniffing his way from survival to deification. He is so unremarkable at first, people even fail to notice he exists. He distinguishes things and people and places by smelling them; he can walk through the dark, find lost things, see beyond the panoptical (i.e. walls, as of clairvoyance) by simply pointing his nose and sniffing the collective "essenses" of the picture to his mind. He became a proficient perfumer, the alchemist of scents, and even extracted the pure scent, the essence, the soul of whatever thing or person he desired whereupon at the end of it all, he was seized by a prodigious threat that would demean his already meaningless life all together: he cannot smell himself.

The novel is a quest for self-identity. It's only through his scent that he could define himself as all things are definable by their scent alone, and nothing else. And so he conjures to create the most potent scent ever made in human history--the scent to be someone other than who he really is, of course, as he is scentless.XP He creates this scent, this identity--the scent of mixed rotten cheeze, sour milk, sweat, vinegar, urine, etcetera--to smell like everybody else and assumes the position of a somebody, at least someone that exists when you bump onto it. (Spoiler.XP Ok, I'm gonna shut up now.) And then he creates the scent of a god. (This is where it gets exciting!XD) Then upon his death execution by garroting (due to multiple murders), instead of arrousing hatred from the thousands of spectators, he arrouses an orgy, group sex by the thousand. AHAHAHA! (Oo, tama na, spoiler na masyado.) And the rest is up to purchase the book or not. All I can say is, you cannot, by all means, you cannot die without reading it. It's a different experience altogether, smelling your way through a story, I mean. I suggest you read the book excerpt nonpareil of remarkable plot, characterization, and writing style.

...I shall return! (omfg. Cliché.:o)

Word did you say?

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