Excuse my literary flair

Having not yet removed a trace of sleepiness thirty minutes into waking up, I dreaded the thought of having to take another school-bound commute. I was feeling more sick than before. I was feeling worse, even, after having to endure the colds for more than a week. I doubted if I could swim today, with many bubble floats in the wings - maybe I could cheat on it once, because I know I wouldn't like the feeling anyway. That caused my colds in the first place, not to mention muscle cramps.

Stuff just happened, though. Maybe I got myself too deep into thought during the past few days, with the occassional uneasiness over the very things I'm doing. I found myself alert about things. I asked another question in Philosophy 2 class, and it didn't spark a debate, but it was still, in the words of Sir Marollano, "a valid question". I wondered how atheists would ever achieve the best form of existence if Kierkegaard thought it was supposedly being in contemporaneity with Christ. I was alert - I couldn't have thought of that before. Or maybe I was indeed beginning to grow up a bit.

That announcement was a little bit immature.

Sociology class came, and it was oddly warm in a classroom known for being one of those freezers. Abigail barely got enough sleep, as she was in between reading her notes for Statistics class and taking some shut-eye. And she wasn't chatting with anyone - or it could be because of that quiz on Statistics, but nevertheless it seemed as odd as the temperature, every little bit of it. It was still the same things, though - we find ourselves answering the same question at the same time. I did leave the room after reassuring her that she'll be fine in that quiz. Only catch is, though, that guy who reassured isn't any confident in his math skills.

I enjoyed Literature 1 class a lot, as I found myself relating my experiences to the story we were reading. I was also enjoying the story - Paz Marquez Benitez' Dead Stars. Why would Alfredo go "neighboring", Miss Wright asked. Lingering occured immediately. He wanted to linger around, simply said. Julia Salas was obviously somebody he liked even though he isn't supposed to. He could have loved her, even. In between stickers and Eena's constant moving of her feet, I was finding myself in another zone, one which seriously took me away from last night.

Last night was something.

Somewhat thankful, apparently. Something was proven. I could have been tossed aside like before. I shouldn't have made comparisons. But I couldn't help but do it - it was looking like some kind of redux to me. But thankful, even if somewhat - totally unexpected.

Apparently, I was selfish, somebody else said. Why that, that quick? It isn't supposed to come in that early. I was looking like some villain, admittedly. In limbo, apparently. Confused over what to do next, that's what's happening right now. I couldn't breathe by then.

Last night was something that threw me off the window. I coudl've slept at ten, but instead I slept at eleven, with a million thoughts running through my head. I slept quickly, though.

Well, today I tried to move on by trying to look at something else. But last night I realize I'm more grounded than ever. You feel attacked, and yet nothing has happened. You check things out and it seems too cold to you. It's begun to freeze, actually.

All I wanted to know is what is actually going on. But they were right, in a way. If something did happen, it's irreversible. I went ahead, and I didn't consider anything much. And it's gone totally one-eighty on me, and as much as I want to keep my head up and swim, well, it isn't going like that.

What have I eaten? I'm not exactly like Alfredo... or am I?

And your responses...

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