I wasn't supposed to update today, really. I thought I should get home early and do stuff. Well, here I am, obviously deviating from my decision.

I survived Biology class, even if it was still the same old boring class we got used to having.

I survived Filipino 1 class, although my seatmates are still the noisy, annoying ones that they are. I did look stupid, after acting in front of the class (I volunteered, after all). I did find myself getting quiet. We (me, Jason, Ale and four others) are going to work in some midterm report, and obviously it's us and the others. Jason even came up to Ale and asked her to ask Jino to do our Powerpoint presentation, and she laughed and obliged. But nothing's concrete yet.

I survived Psychology class - and our Psychology quiz, that twenty-item piece of paper in which my only mistake was a true-or-false question. Just when it seemed to be really hard, it wasn't any. It came as a breeze. Or, maybe, when we get asked about all of the forebrains, midbrains and hindbrains that we can take, we'll falter to dropping lows. Now I wonder. Jom didn't show up, but Steph did. And I asked a question too many, probably.

What I didn't survive was what I'd love to call a scan panic. In the break between my Biology and Filipino 1 classes, a lot of my blockmates somehow converge in the third floor of the Miguel building. In forty minutes I've seen almost every member of the block, including both the BonoSoc and the party animals, and a lot of drifters. I've seen Malia's snazzy hair, and I've asked Martin about his planned move to Ateneo (complete with the surprise at how quick I learned about that). I even got to see Clarence, but I still haven't told her about whatever that is I've long wanted to say. It felt weird when I was shaking her up the way Jino used to (well, before it became him and Ale), and the moment she began laughing it felt surreal. Really.

So what didn't I survive about it?

I wouldn't tell about it. I promised myself I wouldn't.

So right now I'm having a hard time thinking about what I should write. There's this consciousness that I should be trying to get away from it all, somehow, that maybe it's time to move forward and never look back. And yet I still end up here, doing the same things I've done before. It's going nowhere, basically. It's like you're contractually bound to something - and you haven't signed the contract, at that.

So I did end up writing about it. I almost asked Clarence whether she did read my recent posts, and whether she had reacted badly about it. (Maybe only the two of us understand.) That offline message is still floating inside some server in the SoCal region. But maybe I shouldn't try the hardest to be bothered by thoughts of eyeshadow, or black shirts, or that sweet smile.

Gah, Niko. Back to basics. And you thought I wouldn't do it this way?

Tomorrow, a plot twist you just couldn't, or wouldn't, resist. That is, if you know where to look.