Experiment for a fanfic I'm going to make. ~_~
You have an exam. Your final exam. You wake up an hour later than you wanted, all because the air was cool and it was so comfortable. You blame the weather, but you love it, so it's fine. There's nothing to eat for breakfast, which is both a blessing and a punishment. Breakfast makes you sick in the mornings, but no breakfast will leave you hungry. You reach a solution. You will eat at school.
Thankfully, you don't go through your usual morning sickness afterwards. No urge to barf and shit, no feeling of miserable suffering, no chills. Thank the heavens. You haven't studied at all, and you're still not in panic mode. Languidly, you flip through your book, scanning the earlier lessons for equations you have yet to memorize. Bingo. Time for the exam.
Easy, is what you tell yourself. Most of the questions are pretty decent. Just flick through the possible answers, pick a logical solution, and encircle it. Yeah, right. You go through all the items efficiently, half of which you answer by the ever popular guesswork, and the other half you haphazardly solve for. No biggie. You're passed harder exams doing the same thing.
As usual, you are the first to leave the class. Every exam's a race for the door, and you always win. After all, without the usual competitor, it's as easy as eating pie. You realize, belatedly, that it's raining. Hard. You have your umbrella with you, but it proves to be rather useless. Manila is a very annoying city. It takes a few minutes of rain to get ankle deep water. You hate it, but your priority is to get home as soon as possible. Water every where. Ankle deep flood as far as the eye can see, and you have to cross the long stretch of river to get where you want to go. With a sigh, you head off to traverse the slush that was Manila's flood. Sometimes, you wonder why you insist on wearing shoes and socks when sandals are more effective against floods. More's the pity.
You hate the rain when you're outdoors and under it. You love it when you're kept dry enough to appreciate it. This time, you hate it with a vengeance. Rather, you hate what it does to you. Manila's roads are usually slippery, and the tiles of the stairs to the train station doubly so. You wince as you slip and slide, and flail your arms often to keep on your feet, not on your bum. You succeed, but you're annoyed. Your shoes are soaking wet, your socks slushy, your feet uncomfortably numb. You'd let yourself get soaked, but you have a book to protect.
Fortunately, the train you snag is mostly empty. Tiredly you take a seat and cringe at the trail of muddy footprints you left behind. Your umbrella is also making a mess. You're a bastard, and everybody knows it.
The train stops at your station. You get out, slip and slide to the stairs, and stare down. The trip down is stressing, especially when it was twice as slippery. You nearly fall, but keep your balance. You trudge on, keeping focused on the trhought that getting home is important. You'll be home soon, no worries. The public transport you choose is half empty too, and you pick the seat with the least fat people. Amused, you watch as more fat people choose the seat with the most fat people already. Your own line is pretty okey, no squeezing. You take pity as a woman squeezes her way through the other seat. You move to the right, expecting the woman besides you to move so the poor woman could transer. No go. The bitch is a dense, inconsiderate hag. You shrug it off and try to enjoy the ride. The wind is whipping your hair to your face, hopelessly tangling it. But it's cool, and you are reminded why you love the rain. The bitch's knee is leaning on your thigh, so you shuffle and discreetly push it away. Too heavy.
You observe the people around you out of boredom, and you watch plaintively as the chipper driver drops a few coins into a donation box. You wonder, vaguely, why poor people are more generous than rich ones. Rich people are misers.
The bitch then takes the moment to doze off, while her knees are still leaning rather heavily on your thighs. Pain crawls up your back, as you fail to sit straight. The man on your right is pushing your torso to the left, and the bitch at your left is pushing your thighs to the side. The man is at the edge, no place to move. It's understandable. The bitch, however.... Roughly, you shove her knees away. She gets the point, and moves. The idiot falls asleep again, and the cycle starts. You sigh and bear the torture for the next ten minutes more.
The jeep stops, and you get down, walking uncomfortably in wet shoes. You head for the tricycle stand, and take the trip to your house. It's uneventful, and undoubtly boring, so you take the time to once again psychoanalyze your newer RP characters. Yay.
Now here you are, bitching at your blog, mentally whacking yourself for failing to replay the day's events, and the words you had thought of earlier. And you haven't even been awake for seven hours.
You are Yukitsu.
Bows and Arrows
~ Yukitsu
Thankfully, you don't go through your usual morning sickness afterwards. No urge to barf and shit, no feeling of miserable suffering, no chills. Thank the heavens. You haven't studied at all, and you're still not in panic mode. Languidly, you flip through your book, scanning the earlier lessons for equations you have yet to memorize. Bingo. Time for the exam.
Easy, is what you tell yourself. Most of the questions are pretty decent. Just flick through the possible answers, pick a logical solution, and encircle it. Yeah, right. You go through all the items efficiently, half of which you answer by the ever popular guesswork, and the other half you haphazardly solve for. No biggie. You're passed harder exams doing the same thing.
As usual, you are the first to leave the class. Every exam's a race for the door, and you always win. After all, without the usual competitor, it's as easy as eating pie. You realize, belatedly, that it's raining. Hard. You have your umbrella with you, but it proves to be rather useless. Manila is a very annoying city. It takes a few minutes of rain to get ankle deep water. You hate it, but your priority is to get home as soon as possible. Water every where. Ankle deep flood as far as the eye can see, and you have to cross the long stretch of river to get where you want to go. With a sigh, you head off to traverse the slush that was Manila's flood. Sometimes, you wonder why you insist on wearing shoes and socks when sandals are more effective against floods. More's the pity.
You hate the rain when you're outdoors and under it. You love it when you're kept dry enough to appreciate it. This time, you hate it with a vengeance. Rather, you hate what it does to you. Manila's roads are usually slippery, and the tiles of the stairs to the train station doubly so. You wince as you slip and slide, and flail your arms often to keep on your feet, not on your bum. You succeed, but you're annoyed. Your shoes are soaking wet, your socks slushy, your feet uncomfortably numb. You'd let yourself get soaked, but you have a book to protect.
Fortunately, the train you snag is mostly empty. Tiredly you take a seat and cringe at the trail of muddy footprints you left behind. Your umbrella is also making a mess. You're a bastard, and everybody knows it.
The train stops at your station. You get out, slip and slide to the stairs, and stare down. The trip down is stressing, especially when it was twice as slippery. You nearly fall, but keep your balance. You trudge on, keeping focused on the trhought that getting home is important. You'll be home soon, no worries. The public transport you choose is half empty too, and you pick the seat with the least fat people. Amused, you watch as more fat people choose the seat with the most fat people already. Your own line is pretty okey, no squeezing. You take pity as a woman squeezes her way through the other seat. You move to the right, expecting the woman besides you to move so the poor woman could transer. No go. The bitch is a dense, inconsiderate hag. You shrug it off and try to enjoy the ride. The wind is whipping your hair to your face, hopelessly tangling it. But it's cool, and you are reminded why you love the rain. The bitch's knee is leaning on your thigh, so you shuffle and discreetly push it away. Too heavy.
You observe the people around you out of boredom, and you watch plaintively as the chipper driver drops a few coins into a donation box. You wonder, vaguely, why poor people are more generous than rich ones. Rich people are misers.
The bitch then takes the moment to doze off, while her knees are still leaning rather heavily on your thighs. Pain crawls up your back, as you fail to sit straight. The man on your right is pushing your torso to the left, and the bitch at your left is pushing your thighs to the side. The man is at the edge, no place to move. It's understandable. The bitch, however.... Roughly, you shove her knees away. She gets the point, and moves. The idiot falls asleep again, and the cycle starts. You sigh and bear the torture for the next ten minutes more.
The jeep stops, and you get down, walking uncomfortably in wet shoes. You head for the tricycle stand, and take the trip to your house. It's uneventful, and undoubtly boring, so you take the time to once again psychoanalyze your newer RP characters. Yay.
Now here you are, bitching at your blog, mentally whacking yourself for failing to replay the day's events, and the words you had thought of earlier. And you haven't even been awake for seven hours.
You are Yukitsu.
Bows and Arrows
~ Yukitsu