We’ve tried everything (within the norms of decency), and yet we still failed to breed some form of romantic relationship within the batch. We have all formed all sorts of strange surrogant relationships– Amor Fati is my surrogate mother, and why not, when she makes me sandwiches, fixes me coffee, folds my clothes, and rebukes me for my immoral ways. I am Tits’ surrogate father. When he declared that he wants to get married next year I rebuked forward:
Me: Anong ipapakain mo sa anak mo?
Tits: Baka by that time may sweldo na sa fellowship.
Me: Pano kung maospital?
Tits: Baka by that time may sweldo na sa…
Me: Pano kung magka-sepsis? Mangailangan ng meropenem?
Hurricane K is our class adviser, because it really is bleeping difficult to mobilize everyone into the bus while 24 people are happily lining up in the pastry shop oblivious that we still have 4 hours of travel to go. Dondee is everyone’s father. He never attended my ballgames, nor scolded me for watching porn, but he is everyone’s father just by virtue of reading his newspaper on the dining table while sipping his morning coffee. And the LQ’s all around, when there didn’t seem to be an L to begin with.
And yet–AND YET!!!–we all failed to… meld two hearts into one. We’ve all been pushing Graciepoopieloopieroop and Marth V into each others’ arms for years on end, and yet–AND YET!!!–they’ve both shrugged away our efforts. Finally while we were all swimming inside the cave Hurricane Katrina declared: “Fatigue! Fatigued na kami, Marth V and Graciepoopieloopieroop!”
“Bugaw Fatigue!” someone astutely pointed out. And who should point this out and hit the nail on the head but… Marth V himself.
Truly we have all undergone Bugaw Fatigue. We have all decided: DNR. Ipasundo na rin sa punerarya.