#i miss cuddling with them in a****'s basement watching whatever stupid thing one of us has become obsessed with

[plant-dad-sulu]

not to be sentimental on main (sideblog) but i would kill to live near my friends and get to hang out with them every day sitcom style

[swaps55]

@joufancyhuh​ tagged me to share my 5 most bizarre/interesting animal encounters. 

Given I’ve spent so many years around horses, I could write books just about those experiences. But I curated a few, even some that don’t involve horses! This was fun and I wrote way too much. 

Tagging @citadelsushi​, @shadesofmauve​, @dearophelia​ and boy I wish @w0rdinista​ was still around because I know she’s got good ones. Have good stories to share? Please join in and tag me! 

1. The Klutzy Friesian

When I was in college, I had the coolest summer job. I worked in the Breeds Barn at the Kentucky Horse Park, dressing up in costumes to ride and show off how diverse and amazing horses can be (historical accuracy very doubtful, but we made it look REALLY cool). This included a desert princess costume for the Arabian. A Spanish Conquistador for the Andalusian. I wore Peruvian attire and held a glass of water while scooting around on a Peruvian Paso. I don’t know what the costume for the Missouri Fox trotter really was, but it looked cool and that horse was a blast. But the most awesome thing I got to do was dress up as Joan of Arc and ride a Friesian. His name was Tom. In addition to being drop dead gorgeous, Tom was also a Good Boy. Eager to please, perfect manners and an all-around doll.

Each of the horses used in the “Parade of Breeds” show we put on twice a day has a script. You come in as the announcer plays your music and starts your narration, and you perform for the crowd. Now, Tom’s script was a little different from the others, in that instead of trotting or puttering into the ring, you dashed up the chute at a dead gallop and charged into the ring. While wearing a cape and a chain mail hat. The goal was to be epic. Which isn’t hard with Tom. I mean, look at him.

Except, Tom was a laid back dude who had done the same routine for years, and wasn’t always super into charging into the ring. He needed some extra time to warm up and get PSYCHED for his big entrance, which usually involved galumphing around over a grassy area outside the chute, behind the bleachers where the audience sat. 

Well, one day in particular, the skies were clearing up after a good rain. Ground was wet but serviceable, show would go on! I was tasked to be Joan that day, so I donned my chain mail (not pictured) and flowy cape, saddled up my trusted steed and off we went to warm up. We were the last horse on the show list that day, so we were alone as I was getting him riled up, waiting for the horse ahead of me to finish. 

But it had been raining, right? And the grass is wet. Poor ol’ Tom hit a wet patch, lost his footing and went nose-first to the ground. 

Tom is a big dude. So when he hit the deck, that meant about 1300lbs of horse tumbling in a glorious black somersault, with a flash of red in there somewhere that was me in my cape and chain mail. 

Keep in mind there is no one back there to notice. Except the people in the bleachers watching the show. Who stop watching the show and start taking pictures of us in a heap. 

Tom gets to his feet, stands with his head hanging like, “Sorry boss. I done goofed.” 

I frantically grab him, run hands over his knees and legs to make sure he hasn’t hurt himself, straighten up my chain mail, then swing up – somehow, even then I didn’t do well climbing up on a horse from the ground unassisted – and ask him to move to see if he’s lame. With tourists still taking pictures. 

My script is starting, by the way, and they’re expecting me in the ring RIGHT NOW. At a dead run. 

We take a few steps. Nothing ouchy. Ok. Let’s GO. Tom and I hit a dead run and fly into the ring, no one the wiser except for the people who had their cameras ready. Nothing hurt but our egos. 

Tom was the best.

2. Revenge of the Breeds

The same summer I had my adventure with Tom, we also got a lot of rain. A lot of rain in that part of the world meant lots of white clover grew in the fields. All of the Breeds Barn residents got turned out around 4 in the afternoon and didn’t come back in until 7am, so they grazed on that stuff all night. What’s the big deal with white clover? Well, it makes horses very…slobbery. Ok, no big deal though, right? So you had a bunch of slobber faces to saddle up half the summer. Gross, but not that interesting.

Well, would be, except that these horses knew their routine really well, and all of them shared a mutual “doneness” when it came to constantly being gawked at, poked at, petted, etc. But because they were all Good Ponies (except the Gypsy Vanner, who was a dick, and the Arabian, who was shit-for-brains), they had to find petty ways to occasionally vent their frustrations.

Enter the white clover.

Every show we did that summer while the clover was in season, each horse we took into the ring would very patiently collect an entire jaw full of slobber. We’re talking green, slimy, gross buckets of slobber here. After each show, we would walk our charges over to the rail so visitors could come up and pet them, ask questions, and otherwise just get close to a horse. It was the best part of the show for me, because many of these people had never touched a horse before, and I got to share with them something I dearly loved.

Each one of these fuckers would choose that magical moment to open their mouths and let it rain green goo.

I did SO much explaining that summer about how it was because of the clover. They don’t mean it. They really like you! They’re showing you they like you. 

It was on purpose. Each and every time. 

I loved those horses so much. Even the shit-for-brains Arabian, which is a whole other story. I miss that job.

3. The Free Bird.

My old house in Kentucky had a fireplace that I never used, because it involved a chimney stove insert that was not up to code and too heavy to bother moving. At some point the chimney flue must have come loose or whatever it is chimney flues do, because birds would occasionally find their way into my chimney, and if they were REALLY determined, into my house. On the most memorable occasion, my 2 worthless cats were the only ones home. My dog was also home, however she was young and crated at the time and does not factor into this story (though she definitely does in the OTHER memorable bird occasion.) 

This house also had a spiral staircase, which is super cool to look at, but really not very functional save for one thing: it was the perfect place to feed my cats and ensure the dog didn’t get into their food. Each cat had her own step. Every day when I got home from work, the two cats would already be sitting on their step, in front of their bowls, demanding dinner. 

On the day of the bird incident, I come home as usual. Find everyone in their usual spots. Except this time there is an interloper. 

The goddamned bird that snuck into my house through the chimney is standing on the step ABOVE Cat #2. Both cats look at me. Yowl. Look at their bowls. The bird – who is essentially offering itself up as dinner mere inches away from Cat #2’s head – continues to do bird things and poop on my spiral staircase. The worthless cats did not so much as acknowledge the bird exists.   

I had to corral and chase the damn bird out of the house myself, which involved a feather duster and accidentally getting it stuck in a closet, without any help from nature’s bird killers still mad that they haven’t gotten dinner yet. 

One of these cats is still around and being a worthless grouchy cuddle slut to this VERY DAY. 

4. The Shithead Squirrel.

Same house. Same cats. Only add another cat. And the dog now has free house privileges during the day.

I had a cedar house. I loved that house. You know what else loves cedar houses? Squirrels. This one fucking squirrel in particular. Do not talk to me about squirrels. I hate squirrels. I loathe squirrels. All because of this motherfucker.

I had a basement garage, which means one side of the one story house was as tall as a 2 story. Naturally, this was the side of the house this asshole squirrel decided looked homey. I had noticed small holes chewed into the siding before, but it was in an unreachable spot that was kinda dangerous even with a ladder, and I didn’t have the money to hire someone to really fix it.

Until THIS ASSHOLE. This squirrel chewed its way into the siding of my house. Yanked out the insulation and tossed it on the ground to make it nice and homey. Peering around the corner from my deck I could WATCH him sunning his stupid face though the hole, enjoying the world from MY HOUSE without paying any fucking rent.

Well, the wall was also the wall of my living room. All the animals in the house could hear the squirrel in the wall. Imagine three cats and a dog all huddled next to the TV, staring at the wall.

That little fucker better not chew through the drywall, I thought.

The little fucker chewed through the drywall.

I came home from work to find all four animals huddled around an ACTUAL HOLE IN THE WALL, where this squirrel undoubtedly stuck his head through, saw four sets of teeth and made the first and only good choice in his miserable life. I had chicken wire and a block of wood screwed to the inside of my wall until I could get a contractor out to replace a bunch of the siding and insulation. It was the biggest check I’d ever written in my life and I hope he was STILL IN THERE when they sealed it up.

5. The Killer Chicken

YEARS ago, when I first got my mare, the barn I kept her at had all kinds of non-horsey animals running around. Goats, peacocks, peahens, dogs, cats…and chickens. There was one chicken in particular was a stealth master and a real hate on for humans. You did not go into the second barn alone. That was his domain. And if you did? Take a fucking broom. Otherwise, as you would walk down the aisle, beyond the echo of your boots you’d hear a skittering. Stop. Turn. Just a chicken. Minding its own damn business. Fine, right?

Turn around, keep walking. More skittering. Until it got close. Then there would be mad skittering, as this killer chicken would close on its prey and send you running for your damned life out of the barn, out into the open, away from its domain and its hate and its wrath.

When two people were present you’d never notice it was there. But when you were alone. You were prey.

[mukamibabe]

How about the real wife actually does manage to leave? And the fake wives are getting real touchy to the S boys? Maybe they see their real wife having fun some where, what would they do?

whew this was a long one, but I loved it so much. thank you so much for this, anon, i had a lot of fun writing this one!! but it does get really dark in most of them,, so just beware of certain triggers and stuff!! love you guys ❤❤❤

Shu: 

• he let’s her leave, and doesn’t force them to stay. it hurts, but he assumes it’s the best thing for the both of them

• he’s so depressed after it though.. like you think he was bad before?? this is like.. 10x worse

• honestly you might as well just call him dead because he doesn’t respond to anybody, and he doesn’t even react anymore 

• once his fake wife starts getting lovey-dovey towards him, he’ll allow it

• at first he wasn’t sure because maybe his real wife just.. was not serious, or something, he doesn’t know.. but he decides to get closer to his fake wife; after all, she’s the only person he has left.

• he’s not happy about it, because he really doesn’t love her, and he doesn’t want her to know that, because that hurts, but he’ll convince himself it’ll help him feel better, and he’ll be able to distract himself from his ex-wife, as long as he pays attention to his only wife, now.

• visibly, he looks better, he’s more talkative, and actually seems happier.

• but then he sees his ex-wife in public, and everything falls apart

• he doesn’t want to feel helpless and desperate anymore, so he’ll observe her for a little bit, before approaching her, the anger already flowing through his veins

• oh, how much he’d like to kill her right then and there.. he asks her how she’s doing, but his tone sounds cold and heartless, and it probably scares the shit out of his ex, even if they don’t show it

• their conversation probably doesn’t go well, but it doesn’t last long. shu’s the first one to turn away and leave, heading back home to his wife

• if she allows him to, he’ll probably take it out on her, sexually 

Reiji: 

• he acts like it doesn’t bother him, and that he doesn’t care, and that he never cared about her in the first place, even though all of those are lies

• he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s hurting, as he himself doesn’t even want to admit that

• so he doesn’t force her to stay, but he does consider killing her

• like.. he hasn’t done it yet but he gets so close to snapping and his temptations to murder her almost drives him insane

• the amount of times he’s had to stop himself from going any farther is scary- even for him

• he’s cold and stays away from his fake wife at first, ignoring and refusing to allow her do anything else to him

• after all, she is the reason for his real wife leaving him, so he’s actually pretty harsh with her

• however, if she’s asking for sex, he’ll give it to her. he’s honestly surprised with himself but he’s going to be pretty rough with her, whether she likes it or not

• he’ll use her for all his sadistic needs, but if he’s actually ..missing his ex wife, then he’ll be affectionate towards her, in hopes it’ll distract him from thinking about his old lover.

• he goes out in public with her whenever he can, kind of hoping that his ex would notice, and be even more jealous

• hopefully his ex isn’t somewhere isolated and around other people, because once he sees her, the thought of killing her completely invades his mind

• maybe he’ll even offer to take her out, as he still remains composed and friendly on the outside

• honestly though, for reiji’s situation, death is inevitable. he will make sure she dies, and if she doesn’t die, then everyone and everything she cares about will, one way or another.

Ayato: 

• honestly i don’t know how she would’ve gotten away, but that’s talent-

• he’ll go for a couple of days without her, and within those couple of days he get intimate with his ���fake wife’

• he doesn’t mind it, either. if that’s what she wants, then sure, it’s not like it bothers him because apparently his ‘real wife’ doesn’t want him anymore

• he’s actually in denial about it all though. he didn’t do anything wrong, she did by choosing to leave him

• so then he convinces himself he’s better off without her, and she’s trash anyways

• he does feel kinda stupid for marrying her, though. not good on his self esteem but that’s why he has another wife (not.. really but whatever)

• he does everything he can just to make his ex wife jealous. whether it be spoiling them, being very touchy with them in public, he’ll do literally anything

• …he even considers having a child with his fake wife

• so yeah.. once he sees his ex in public he instantly wants to leave, but his body wont move

• he can’t help but watch her from afar, clearly enjoying herself

• this causes him to get more and more upset, so he basically ends up stalking her

• he wants to kill her, and suck her dry, but he can’t bring himself to do that. not because he still loves her, but he wants her to suffer

• so he’ll leave signs of like.. that he’s around, but he doesn’t reveal himself

• for example: he now knows where she lives

• he’ll do things like eating her food that she was saving, he’d move things around, possibly even steal them or throw them away, idk you get what i mean though 

• from an outside view, he looks like the typical crazy ex but it’s not because he wants her back

• it’s because he wants to slowly drive her insane just like she had done to him

Kanato:

• again. if she actually manages to escape from him, she must be very smart and/or talented

• the only way for kanato not to kill them or hurt them bad enough to not leave is by doing it suddenly, making sure he has no absolute clue about it

• because other than that, she’s not leaving.

• but say she hides it well, and kanato never finds out until she doesn’t come home one night

• needless to say, he flips out

• he’s screaming, crying, throwing things around and destroying anything and everything that gets in his way

• this is where his fake wife comes in

• he’ll get mad at her first, probably calling her something very vulgar and degrading, and refusing any sort of contact she tries to give him

• but after a few days.. he just lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he holds his bear tightly against his chest

• he’s so sad.. why would she leave him? he didn’t do anything wrong.. he loved her..

• his mood swings happen a lot more, and his tantrums are SO much worse

• sometimes though, when he’s missing what he used to do with his lover, he’ll just use his fake wife to replace her completely

• if he has to, he will go as far as making them dress in the same clothes, he’ll style her hair the same way, maybe even trying to force them to alter the way she speaks or something..?

• he now relies on his only wife to comfort him, and expects a lot of sweets, kisses, cuddles, whatever. he only wants her company, now

• but then when he sees his previous s/o and he completely loses it, whether they’re in public or not

• first it’s just a few little tear drops falling from his eyes, but then he’s screaming at the top of his lungs, you could hear him miles away

• he yells at her, calling her various different names, and insults her with everything he can think of

• depending on how she reacts to it, he’ll kill her right on the spot, even if there’s people around; he really doesn’t care anymore.

Laito:

• again.. she’d have to be really sneaky and make sure laito has no clue AT ALL

• because once he knows about it, he will keep her down in the basement, and won’t let her out. ever

• but like i said in kanato’s thing; we’ll assume she somehow managed to keep it all a secret

• in which that case; laito doesn’t really think much about it at first

• he thinks she’s just taking a break, maybe, and that doesn’t bother him, he doesn’t mind

• he goes on for days, and days, waiting for her to come back, like a dog waiting for it’s owner

• he’s not even sure why she left, either, so he’s really confused, and for the first time since.. well, his childhood, he feels powerless.

• now, he feels like he needs to feel in control of everything once again, refusing to let his ex wife have the pleasure of knowing how hurt he felt

• so if his fake wife does come on to him, then yeah, he’ll do it, and he’ll have her convinced that he loves her more than anyone else in the world, returning back to his previous self

• he kind of goes on like.. a sex rampage, though, like he’ll get all the girls that are desperate for him, and he’ll play his game with them; he’ll have them convinced he’s madly in love with them, only to eventually reveal that he doesn’t love them, and never has

• it’s sick but.. so is ex; .. at least that’s what he thinks

• when he sees his ex enjoying herself, he’ll take a similar approach to ayato, and basically become their stalker

• except he’s much more.. revealing about it

• he doesn’t care if she sees him, in fact, that’s what he wants. also, it’s even better if she has a new boyfriend because the first thing he does is kill him, right in front of her.

• then he’ll kidnap her, and treat her like she’s nothing, calling her things like a slut, a whore, bitch, ect.. 

• and then that’s where the fun begins

• now his ex lives in his basement, starved and malnourished, so weak she’s unable to move

• basically, laito just taunts her, torturing her, both.. sexually and mentally

• lets just say he doesn’t regret having that extra wife. he’ll show his ex wife how much he loves the woman that she had been so jealous of

Subaru: 

• he’s in denial a little bit, still clinging onto that tiny bit of hope that she may come back 

• but when she doesn’t.. he’s a lot more aggravated than usual. he’s much more destructive, and gets upset even at the tiniest of things

• but his temper isn’t the only thing that’s changed; his self consciousness and insecurities get so much worse, even to the point where he questions whether he should still be alive or not

• he’ll lock himself away, not wanting to get anyone else involved with the issue, knowing that he could possibly kill someone in a fit of rage

• the first time he comes out of his room is because he’s literally starving and needs blood

• he planned on just finding someone off of the street or something, but his fake wife had offered herself to him

• and as much as he didn’t want to drink from her (he felt bad for her as soon as they had gotten married) he couldn’t help it; he was so thirsty

• other then that, he doesn’t interact with her, because he knows he’ll hurt her

• he says it’s for her own good, she shouldn’t want to get involved with a monster like him

• when he sees his ex wife out, having fun, he’s hurt, but he laughs. 

• he knew she could never love someone as horrible as him, and he’s stupid for falling for it

• he watches for about a minute or two, unsure whether he was glad to see a big smile on her face, or if he wanted to feel jealous

• after convincing himself to leave, he never looks back. it hurts, but he doesn’t want to think about her ever again

• so, here’s to new beginnings with his new wife.

[tikilimawmaw]

BRB

On the rare occasions that I care about my news feed, some things actually get my attention, aside from cute puppy gifs and stupid political fanaticism like wtf. Anyway, a “friend” shared this blog post about UPLB--my dear UPLB--and how uh-mazing that place is. I mean, I get it; it is a mystical, magical university (but not in a Hogwarts way) and, well, who could resist writing about, or instagramming it?

I apologize. I’m just at this point in my college life where I see everything under gray clouds, and I don’t mean the silvery kind. I mean dark, nimbus, let’s-do-relief-operations-after-this-storm, gray clouds. I hate that place, but every Monday when I return to the apartment there I’m always looking forward to walking the streets of Elbi. It’s weird.

Anyway, what I’m about to do is kind of a parallel narration according to the places described by the author/blogger. It’ll be a whiny, age-inappropriate sulking about how bad I feel in that wonderful place, but hey, I don’t know how to properly feel anymore. I need to do this.

(1 Baker Hall) The only fun I had in Baker Hall was Elbikon. Seriously. For one thing, the interior is very old--wooden steps, dramatic windows. Nothing wrong there; someone’s doing a splendid job on preservation (except that the temperature rises over unbearable degrees). Here’s the problem: the string ensemble of UPLB practices there. I hear violins, and I hate that. I hate missing the violin. It’s a piece of me that just doesn’t fit perfectly anymore when I try to get my shit together again. I mean, it fits, but not exact-o.

(2 Carillon Tower) For four years I’d lived in the same dormitory and every time I needed a jeepney ride, I pass by the Carillon Tower. It’s peaceful there; I hang around on my own and no one disturbs me because everyone else is too busy cuddling with his/her SO. It’s too peaceful actually, that all I could think about is that a pool of blood is too obvious at the foot of the tower. Besides, the gates are locked. No potential here.

Backspace. BACKSPACE.

(3 Student Union Building) Sigh. SU. Where do I even begin? Oh, wait, I need to get a number before I begin. Approximately 56 minutes before I get called. LIES! It’s like all you want to do there is rush in, get things done, rush out. But you can’t. Because you’re queued. The bathrooms are okay, I guess. I thought that SU was supposed to symbolize the university embracing the student, making them feel welcomed and that they are free to do whatever hell they want (bleargh). That’s funny, because I feel more welcomed by the river behind it. 

(4 Trees) I have this theory that the trees in UPLB are majestically large because they feed upon the souls and hopes and dreams of thousands and thousands of students, on-time and delayed, every semester. This may be only in my head, but I honestly feel like my energy is always drained when I’m there. Maybe that’s why Thursday is drinking day: so students can at least carry on through Friday and the weekends without feeling like shit. Me? I drink Mondays. And Tuesdays. And We--

(5 DL Umali) I don’t think I’ll ever walk the stage of DL Umali with pride and confidence ever again. I used to be a student achiever: college scholar and honor roll, promising GWA. I shake hands with the dean; I get a certificate. Now, I’m just a probationary student with nine failed units and one INC that all happened in one epic semester. Epic fail, that is. 

That’s not all. Our org holds our annual exhibit in the gallery at the basement. And I haven’t had any WIPs for a year. I can’t stress enough how I lost my will to draw. Recently, art has only been a way to calm me down. That’s great, right? At least I still have it. God.

(6 Nihon Koen) I think I’ll be seeing this torii regularly starting Tuesday. It’s a fun way to travel down from the UHS, where the psych is in TTh 2-5 pm. 

UPLB Tip #562: There are desperate pervs in pretty decent bathrooms. DO NOT give in to the temptation no matter how much of your life you’ve given up, because you can get sick. Or pregnant. Or worst, videoed. Besides, his dick was tiny.

(7 Thai Pavillion) Hang around this exotic gazebo every afternoon before dusk if you want to ogle at fit people stretching, and jogging, and basically all other things you don’t have the energy for, a.k.a taking care of your body. Plus, they have dogs. Dogs are one of the reasons I don’t let go.

(8 Freedom Park) Again, a haven for healthy people: F-park. Fit park. Food park. Fuck park. Whatever you wish: it’s Freedom Park. Here’s a tip: unless you’re a Jesus person, don’t sit on the benches alone. Or at least have the guts to say “no, I don’t wanna hear about the five things that I need to know to be saved.” And besides, sitting alone on a bench in front of a lot of parked cars for a few hours is creepy. There was this one time I thought this old guy in his car was actually watching me. I could take the attention but that just sounds really slutty. Try sitting at the grandstand instead. 

(9 Mariang Banga) It doesn’t matter what religion or cult you belong in: Mariang Banga is real. Ask permission before picking a flower, apologize for stepping on grass, always appreciate the weather no matter how insufferable it is, because she has power over this land, you mortal. (I still think she cursed me with a hole for a heart and a jelly for a brain.)

(10 Palma Bridge) There was a time in my early college years when Palma Bridge was called Sperm Bridge but I won’t give any hints. Get it? Hint? Like, odor? No? How about “call of the void”? “High place phenomenon”? Urge to jump? Still no? Good.

(11 Molawin Creek) This river is the same river I was talking about. It actually runs pretty far. In one of my stupid adventures pre destructive semesters, I tried to discover what was behind my then-dormitory. You guessed it: a forest. Hah okay, the river comes after it. There was this spot that I liked--clear and cold water, decently dry rocks, some shade, no one else around. Bathing naked was fun. But on my next adventure, I got lost, so uh-uh I’m not going back. Or will I? (I conclude that these adventures comprise a death wish.)

(12 Park behind humanities) Behind CAS Building is this construction where we get rubble from. And the mound of gravel that was never removed served as another seat for our tambayan, where I always feel so awkward. 

(13 NCAS) One question: how the hell can I get on the NCAS rooftop? Ideation aside, a top view of O-park would be nice. 

(14 Office of the University Registrar) Soon enough, the registrar will not include me in the list of officially enrolled students because ma’am, I am tired. I need a break. And probably my TOR.

(15 Hum/CAS) Pretend to be a younger batch if you look the part. I always do. It gives the illusion that I’m still full of hopes and dreams, and it’s a good excuse for asking about things that I should know. The three CAS buildings and Physci are the good places to do it. And Copeland gym. 

(16 Two roads diverged by O-park) Lots of walks to clear the mind // Beware acquaintances, tell them you’re fine. // Groups of friends walking, pretty intimidating // Cross the road, the other side is empty: your thing.

(17 Gamma SIgma) Yeah, well I always thought it was a shade for the CSB. Sorrynotsorry.

(18 Heritage Tower) My happy memories include playing UNO with my friends under the Kwek-kwek tower and reading the ridiculous vandals like “Jherehmie luv Ehllah 4rvr 24″. I have nothing against Jherehmie and Ehllah, but come on, that tower was [awfully] repainted. I miss the times when I don’t suddenly stop and stare at nothing while I play UNO or sing karaoke with my friends. It’s awkward; I catch myself doing it. Nope. Nope.

UPLB Tip #847: It never hurts to be observant. Get really observant until you’re almost being a stalker. But not really. There are always patterns for everything, and you just really need to be good at knowing them. For example, your crush. Your crush has a schedule; on TTh he walks out of this building at this hour, on WF he enters another. Where does he live? Which jeepney does he usually ride, kanan or kaliwa? Observation, not stalking.

(19 UPLB Gate) I’ll be back, I promise.

(20 CEM...thingy) Forget that weird piece of artsy nonsense, that buried building at the back with the swastika is the mystery. I never bothered to know the history, but hey, it’s dark, wet and eerie--must be zombies. 

(21 Raymundo) I always dub this as “not my turf”. Since I’m not familiar with it, I also have adventures here (just to be clear, adventure meant walking and exploring, nothing else). I’ll miss rolling under the gate after curfew and deciding where to eat (usually takes around 15 minutes).

(22 Never-ending bridge) Again, with the bridges. Look, it’s a long way down but the aesthetics are great. There’re these pretty purple (or were they blue?) flowers and a thick canopy of ferns and broad leaves. Die pretty.

UPLB Tip #1036: Don’t shut everyone out. Ever heard of “don’t burn your bridges”? Yeah, well if you’re that kind of person who possibly needs to utilize people in the future, then go. But geez is that all there is to connections, the utility? What about just having fun conversations together, and lunches and dinners? IMHO, the people you meet at your later years in college are more likely to become “colleagues” than “friends”. Unless he’s the one. Squeal.

(23 Forestry route) While the torii is my way down, this road takes me up to the psych.

(24 UPLB) I hate my house. I hate my school. I just want to be in between, in the journey. I know I’ll get to the two points at some time in my life but not now. A view from afar would be nice. “I’ll be there,” I would say, “just give me a moment to catch up.” I’ll be right back.

Welp. That was awfully long. So here’s the blog, again. Vivid pictures, beautiful words, I am nothing. 

Edit: She’s on Tumblr. OH NO.