Give me something to believe in

I'm happy, though. Idiotically happy. The kind of happy a stranger would not be able to resist bludgeoning on sight on a street somewhere.

Still in summer mode, apparently. Treating my classes as infomercials in between the main event, which is really just a screwed up internal clock, and long long long, eminently enjoyable afternoons glued to bed with my sweat. And chocolate at arm's reach. And lethal Mentoses.

I am so happy, I tell Person in between bites of homemade calamari, it's really starting to annoy me.

Person just scoffs and shovels a spoonful of rice down his throat.

Sabi mo eh.

*

Proust is giving me a freaking headache. And so are The People of God and A Theological Anthropology.

Paano pa kaya kung pumasok ako sa Philo? Putchinboots, patayan na 'to!