Saturday, July 29, 2006
Kundren Bashflacks
So it's a Thursday night, and we're out looking for some place where we can get drunk, because Thursday night is the best time to get drunk in eLBi. Our eyes light up when we find a place that has drink-all-you-can beer for a hundred bucks. Our lot starts getting drunk, and we start talking about anything and everything on our minds. One of my friends pulls me aside and we start talking about each other's friends. As the phrase "small world" subtly implies itself over and over throughout our conversation, he then shifts to talking about her. He starts talking about how her being heartbroken makes it the ideal time to go for it, and even adds that he used to like her, but he sees more potential in me (alcohol blurs your senses and your memories, so when you attempt to recall your blurred sensory details the memory itself also gets blurred in the recollection process, and as a result you hardly remember anything if you remember anything at all, so I apologize if I cannot remember verbatim anything he said).Flashback to the time I heard her closest friend tell me more or less the same things.
Flashback to the time she borrowed my glasses for part of an evening, telling me I looked better without them (something that, coincidentally, her closest friend told me too).
Flashback to the time I danced with her during one of the best nights of my life.
Flashback to the time she and her best friend invited me to share an apartment with them, which I declined because I liked my personalized dorm room.
Flashback to the time her barkada and I tried those Better Than Sex chocolate cakes in LB Square just to find out how good they really were.
...
Maybe I'm making too big a fuss about this, but screw it. Besides, you just finished reading the entire thing. *big grin*
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