“The truth about reality is that there is no truth at all.”
“What kind of writing is this?” pagalit na asiwa ng aking propesor sa literatura na nakatitig ng masama sa akin at nakakunot ang noo.
“Sir, I believe you said that this subject respects the idea of free writing and I am only living on your philosophy that’s why I wrote that.” sabay turo ko sa hawak niyang papel na kanina lang ay binabasa niya.
“Well. But is this the real format? Is this what we have discussed? It lacks coherence and what you have written doesn’t mean anything much to me! I’ll fail you for this.”
At pakutya niyang binasa ang hawak niyang papel sa buong klase.
“Sir.” sabay tayo ko “did I just tell you that I am writing just to pass this subject? The heck no. I am writing in order to make a difference that you or anybody from the academe haven’t done in the duration of their professorial tenure. This is innovation, sir. A great leap forward from the humdrum and traditional way of writing, which I think is very obsolete nowadays to be applied in this generation. I only used a post-modernist approach to splatter those abstract yet unified thoughts inside me.”
“Dapat nilagay mo yan sa paper mo! Mukhang basura itong pinasa mo sa akin and I am not satisfied with this piece John.”
“Of course.” di ko na mapigilan yung tawa ko sa matanda kong propesor. “…how could you be satisfied if in the first place, you haven’t even tried to look at my paper yet.”
Biglang tumaas ang kilay ng propesor ko at tila naguluhan sa sinabi ko.
“By the way sir I am not John, I am Stephen… and what you are holding is not my work.”
Tila naging sabungan ang loob ng klase sa sobrang ingay at tawa.
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