Sexy Sunken Garden is Eyeing the Gorgeous Malcolm Hall

I’ve heard a bunch of fabulous, wacky, eccentric, inspiring, rip-roaring, stirring, romantic, astonishing and breathtakingly sexy stories about UP. Some of them reached my pristine ears through classmates’ hearsay, uncle jokes, and mommy gossips, while most parts of that incredible world succeeded in spoiling my unspoiled and absolutely untouched 15-yrs.-old-high-school-girl-hormonal mind, through the flood of late night secret confessions spilling throughout social media. Those stories did not just undressed and ripped me off my innocence, they also raped my mind to deviate from the safe and unconventional and transition into the dangerous and liberating. Because the stories, which are palpably frequently frowned down by society, while they did bombed my virgin thinking, did not hurt me at all. Rather, it was a sweet feeling. I convinced myself that I should really study in UP, if I wanted more of this “it’s-uncomfortable-at-first-but-it-gets-sweeter-later” feeling. I remembered praying to God, Allah, Buddha, Loki, Freddie Mercury, Thor, John Lennon, Han Solo, Fernando Poe, Jr., and friends, in desperation to pass UPCAT.

From what I’ve already read, so far, most stories and confessions take place in the Sunken Garden – the holy ground, the arcane soil, the second sexiest place in UP (next to Lagoon) where every kinds of sessions take place. I was beyond elated when a friend called and invited me to their group’s play rehearsal for their final project on the dearest UP Sunken Garden. I was finally going to behold that pretty place!

The UP Sunken Garden is a wide, sparsely, verdant ground and the soil is, well, really sunken, as its name suggests. All around us were trees, standing tall and luxuriant. My friend’s rehearsing group and I were at the end of the Academic Oval. At our left was the Vinzons Hall and in front of us was the College of Education. I distanced myself from the group to take all of UP in, to breath in all of its glory. I breathe in its fresh and pure atmosphere, slightly mixed with a nuance of human sweat.

I put my earplugs on and clicked Bon Jovi’s Living On A Prayer.

“We’ve got to hold on, to what we’ve got. It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not.” Dear Lord Bon Jovi. Please, please, make me pass the UPCAT.

Soon I was tapping my feet on the faintly lush soil, like an idiotic boy band fan girl. And then I saw it, gracefully standing there, just at the opposite side – UP Malcolm Hall, College of Law. It was quite far, but it doesn’t matter. I raised the volume up.

“Ohh! We’re halfway there!” Bon Jovi screamed. “Ohh! Livin’ on a prayer!”

Malcolm Hall was even more gorgeous up close. I was star stricken. She was even lovelier than the pictures I’ve been obsessing with for months. I was even more determined to get into this school.

Bon Jovi asserted again, “Ohh! Living on a prayer!”

I came back to my exhausted friend’s rehearsing group in high spirits, high hopes, and high expectations.

                Now that I’m in UP for 6 months, (Yay! Thank you God, Allah, Buddha, Loki, Freddie Mercury, Thor, John Lennon, Han Solo, Fernando Poe, Jr., and friends), I’ve already witnessed some of the fabulous, wacky, eccentric, inspiring, rip-roaring, stirring, and astonishing moments around UP and most of them are thankfully immortalized through pictures and journal entries. I’m yet to witness the romantic and breathtakingly sexy ones. For now, I’m just enjoying the moment (We all should). And every once and a while, for every 2 or 5 hours of vacant time, I would always find myself sitting on the lush grass of the dearest, ever arcane Sunken Garden, observing people, drawing in feelings of insecurity, anxiety, and solitude, and then having to embrace and accept all of them, all at once. I would gaze at the ever stunning Malcolm Hall, sparkling with thoughts of Law School. And then my eyes would wander back to the Sunken people, undressing themselves, ripping, and throwing everything off on that holy, eccentric and incredibly sexy ground.



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