Loser

refers to grade-conscious freaks. They don't miss their assignments, have a year's supply of quiz pads (1/4, 1/2, 1 whole), and hate Physical Education classes. They're the reversals of boys who bring beer and girls who breathe make-up. Too afraid to retaliate to tirades and insults, they believe that walking into the guidance counselor's office will be the end of life.

"They're just good in memorization," said the teacher who identifies herself as cool. "They ace their exams, but they won't succeed in life."

"The real champions are those who know diskarte."

And perhaps she's right. Maybe they're plain losers with above-average memory skills. Because after two decades of study, you still can't define what that word means. You're hopelessly hunting for and enjoying pieces of reaffirmations, wishing that one day, you suddenly bump into a street sign, leading you to a landscape of nipa hut beside a rice field, in front of a mountain, below the yellow smiling sun.