Mind’s Eye View

I don’t even know how to start this.  I have been through all the stressful book-diving, the wit-chucking memory work, the repetitious megalo-boring recital of legal mantras, the endless sessions drinking vats (yes vats!) of brewed coffee and the occassional iced mocha, the gazillion-ashtrayfuls of burnt cigarette butts, and the rest of the completely un-cool things associated with law school, and here I am.  What?  Uhmm… before that, Let me retract:  The coffee and cigarette things? They ain’t really THAT uncool. So, There.

<< Tough luck, stoopid!

Now what?

I mean, FINE, law school is over since March 2006.  Five years (yes, Five years in a span that should normally have been only Four) of hard-earned rejection and the "you-are-just-not-good-enough, idiot!" brand of teaching at Ateneo Law.  Whew. Finally over.  Uhmm,  before going on, let me thank Dean Risonar of CorJesu  for the privilege of experiencing some compassion when I was starting to think everything of or pertaining to law school should have been renamed "Shit."  People like you rule, Sir!

So, all that shit is over now. Ah-huh.  And, yes, the pre-bar review sessions? They were such a pain in the ass, literally. And what about the pre-weeks? Well, what about them!?

Oh, yes, the bar exams came and went like… my hair! What the…  F*ck… my hair! Damn, those Minoxidil vials and booster pills better work lest I start wreaking havoc over the metropolis with my… balls of hair! They’re clogging the sink, damn it! Damn it.

Anyways, I dunno if you’re starting to get it, but, yes, I do need a shrink. And soon please.  People say I should start keeping myself busy, like starting a multinational firm and becoming a serious threat to Ayala, or something, but, hell, nothing beats a full, spanking luxurious crown of hair!  Nope, I don’t mean something like Pilita’s gargantuan coifs! PILITA! That b*tch just can’t stop sticking to her own  hellishly turkey-jerky brand of lameness. I pity Philippine Idol for such a gargantuanly sorry fate.  But at least she has the mane!

Oh. Where was I?  Oh yes, a full mane is a lot of reason to be busy.  And the shrink, you ask?

Okay.  It’s not like i’m saying a shrink can do the stunts of Fanny Serrano or Ricky Reyes, who, by the way is my favorite fag, and bring me to full-hair salvation.  For Chrisssssakes, they can NEVER bring back my healthy hair follicle count. No, it’s not like that at all!  I mean, a shrink could at least convince me to stop worrying about my hair and start up a multinational firm and become a serious threat to Ayala.  Or MAYBE, he could convince me to channel all the negative energy "about my hair" and help me start to cook up ways to wage vengeance against Ateneo Law!  Or MAYBE, he could hypnotize me to thinking i’m some sort of "Lawbivore" (noun, [Lö' bē-vör]) that preys on nutty law professors and law deans. What do we know, cranked up professors and gassed up deans would make for a sumptuous meal to a hardcore "Lawbivore." From what I heard, "Lawbivores" (noun, pl. [Lö' bē-vörz]) just looooove icky stuff! Bleeek!

I mean, here I am, stressed out to-the-max, depressed, hating my erstwhile law school to the marrow, and worrying about my hair!  What could be worse!? That’s about the same feeling as freakishly cuddly Mahal trying to look catty-bitchy like Paris Hilton!

Shame! If only I had that glorious mane, I would be at Watson’s anytime, digging the latest inventions in Hair Erection Science.  Hell sure, If I had IT, i’d have nowhere else to go but right on the Erectile Hair bandwagon!  Call it the new wave in Phallus Worship.  It’s almost like a cultic phenomenon, you see?  Take to the streets, look around, be a witness: multitudinous heads a-sporting vertical, horizontal, or diagonal columns, beams, locks, of hard, gloss- or matte-finished, hair! And the hairstyles? Think anime! And the colors? Aaaargh!  I could walk out on the street anytime and turn green in no time!  It’s called The Alopecian Agony.

<< Aww, shucks! THIS (and that one below)
is my crowning glory. Sad. Sad.

But you know what? I think I realized that there’s really no use ranting about my gradually "emerging" scalp and whining on how awesome a ride it would be on the Erectile Hair Bandwagon.  You know why?  Because, maybe, I have no choice. 

HELL NO! That’s crap! You can tell me, "get a life, brutha! Be satisfied with what you’ve got!"  But when the time comes, and I can DARE say it’s coming fast, i’ll tell you, "Shut up, bitch, THIS (points at head) is what i’ve got! I got no hair! Hellooo!!!!"

Man! While that day is still far off. I’d like to think this blog entry would be a sort of record  of my once glory-mane days.  "There WERE quite a few strands stuck up there, honey… before they all went down the drain."  You know, people hardly believe you when you say things without that shit called evidence. Hope this counts as one, and with my sad pics up there to bolster it. It’s sometimes a good thing to get diverted to such nonesense as "hair loss" rather than think about the something as friggin scary as the upcoming Bar results. (F*cka-a-doodle-doo!) And, just in case, I’ll keep banking on the vials of Minoxidil and hair booster pills.  You know, just in case.

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