Weak and Lost

Never had I felt this way before...

Two nights ago I faced that one friend who cared for me and asked me about the test I took as I told him about it months ago. I almost cried because somehow I felt someone cared about me personally. Not that I don't appreciate my communications with you about my status right now but it felt better to have someone just hug me and be silent about it. I felt a little relieved that there's someone who can just embrace the truth with me without saying anything. Don't worry, I trust this person a lot and he promised to just forget what I said while we're away from each other. He's a very dear friend, outside the closest friends/bestfriends.

Truthfully, I missed our silent moments. Those times when we just hang out and not talk about anything or just talk about something nonsense.

Just hours before writing this letter to you I felt so alone in my chamber. I felt that there's emptiness in me. I don't know why but for the first time I don't feel inspired despite all those hangouts with friends and family. There's a very big space inside my soul as I searched for answers. And right now I'm lost.

I can't see the earth I'm stepping unto nor the path I'm leading to. Fogs are all over me and even the slightest light I saw weeks ago vanished into thick clouds of the cold and gloomy surroundings. All I could sense right now is the virus inside. It's killing my dreams that every night my sleep is so dead. It numbed me. It took the happiness I was saving all along and I don't know how to get it back.

Before, I've been the pillar of most of my friends including you, I think. Now, the strong column I have and everyone has been holding onto every time we need it was destructed. Every piece of it is slowly blown by the wind I couldn't stop. The strength I was holding was gone and all I can do is watch it stripped off me. I am weak now and I don't know where to get the strength I had before.

I don't know where to go. I don't know what life will lead me to. The virus has taken over me. And now, all I could do is weakly watch while it's taking my senses away.

I'm afraid... I need a hand more than ever... I need a shoulder. I need myself back...

I am Afraid to Love Again

Yesterday, while listening to the mini-seminar that a church-woman was saying, I was enthralled by a declaration she made about the sacrament of marriage. She said that marriage is only for a man and a woman. But she didn't stop there, instead she stressed by saying "Take note: Marriage is for a MAN and WOMAN ONLY."

I didn't know what to think about her saying such. Is she against us? The idea pierced me and it took my bones into shivers. I didn't realize that in this modern world, there are religious "educators" like her who are so close-minded. I can't blame her. She's just saying what she's thought about.

Later on I saw lovers. They are heterosexuals. I could see in their eyes they're so in love or so I thought. Then the idea of LOVE came back again. It's like a shadow following me ever since I gave up on it. I never realized how romantically un-loved I am for the past months.

Although it's not a big deal for me. I dug into myself as to why until now I haven't shared my romantic love at all. Maybe it's the fact that I have loved and lost a partner. I invested on the relationship emotionally to the point that I lost my emotions for my friends and family. Truthfully, I lost my appetite for their love and I searched for another.

The second time I entered in a relationship was not because I loved the guy but because I wanted to feel how good it is to be loved. I didn't succeed. We were both engulfed to the idea of just having a relationship. It ended short-lived.

The third was a gamble I bet a little. No, I didn't bet at all. I let it flown away by the wind. I acted as if I was getting into the relationship and was hoping I could something out of it or I could love again same way I loved before. There was only one quarrel. I remembered telling my bestfriend that it might be it! He might be the one I was searching for. Sad thing was he didn't think same way. He was thinking of his past love. I was left but I didn't leave.

I didn't leave him because I thought he was my bad karma. I thought if I can be with him as a friend I can make amends of the bad things I did before. Or maybe I still can find the guy in him I longed for the past years in my life.

However, right now I just realized that despite those thoughts of love, I fear love. Love is like an unknown idea I had brushed off a long time ago. It's like a pitch dark room that all I can hear is a monstrous sound coming out of it. It's like a plane flying with only one wing and anytime can crash and burn. It's like the ocean where scavenger creatures live waiting to eat the hell out of me.

Certainly, I'm afraid to love again because of all the circumstances in my life. I'm afraid because I'm still selfish. I'm afraid because I'm still in the thoughts that no one would love me back.

Now, I'm swallowing every advice I had given to my friends: "Just love and expect nothing in return." It's a cliche but I think it's always true that the truths you say and advice are the hardest things to do.

I'm still afraid to love. Maybe my fear will wear off once there's someone who'll see me as a lovable person. As long as I see myself as the exact opposite of that, I know no one would ever try to love me. But at the moment, I'm still enjoying the love of my family and friends... and myself...

Activism to Positivism

Back in college I could say that I was one of those "slightly" activists. Slightly for the reason I didn't go full time in fighting for what I believe in. Yes, I went to lots of fora, political discussions and even a protest rally against the budget cut for education especially for the state colleges and universities. I even debated with the anti-leftists and carried the principles of leftist but that's not the point  of this entry. The activist in me was just awakened by the article I've read in PDI's Young Blood column.

I remembered when the rage in me was so strong that I hated the government (that time with PGMA) to the point that I couldn't contain it anymore, that I had to learn more things about the controversies that the regime was into, including the scandals of the past administration. I was not sure why I felt that way until I left college. I was one of those struggling students. I had a scholarship but it was not enough to sustain everything. There were meals I skipped not because I didn't have time but because I needed the money left in my pocket to print the research paper to pass the subject. There were also times when I looked at those students who just wasted their parents' hard-earned money with loath. I envied them for they could afford the education they wanted. At the same time I pity them because they're lost and didn't have goals like mine. But above it all, I was ashamed of the government that couldn't support its citizenry by all means, and that included me and thousands of students crawling their way to get a degree and thereby getting decent paying job. This shame grew into rage.

Maybe my stomach was just almost always empty that's why I seek something to blame to. Or maybe I was too idealistic of what the world should be according to the way I wanted it to be- a peaceful, happy and contented society. Or maybe I haven't seen the real world yet from the corners of the academic edifice.

I left school without a degree but with an earnest heart to finish it and share what I learned even though I didn't like nor dislike what I studied. "Sapat lang" as I put it. Here came the real world! The world of truth where everyone is so busy. I raided Makati City to find the decent job everyone wanted. I fell to the same hole that a lot of my friend fell into. It's a hole where money is abundant as well as stress. The call center world.

At first, I said that was just a transition period. I just needed money to complete the paperworks for thesis. Until I woke up one evening and realized I was already tied to the corporate world of the slaves. It was hard at first  but I eventually got the hang of it. I was ashamed because I had to swallow everything I said back in college. I knew some of those I spoke with bitterness were mocking me already. Just imagine an activist that hated USA he believed that it's imperialist and fascist now serving the country through its BPO companies. Hard isn't it?

In time, it grew upon me that governments, politics and society must not be viewed as a systemic problem at all. I thought all of us are part of this all. However we deny it, in one way or another, we contributed to the bigger problem of our own society. We separate ourselves from that bigger picture once we see something wrong when in fact we rely on this. That being written, I turned the page and immersed myself into it knowing that I might see it with a different hue. I was right. The view now is lighter and with positive colors.

Today, I started saying that being one of those who had the same flame of activism must continue to be activist but this time the war will be fought with tranquility and respect. I started with myself. Then, maybe I can share it to my friends and then my community. This may sound a joke but I wanna do my share. Let's do our share.

P.S.

I got my degree and marched with my hand-woven "Sablay."

The Mass

Today, I heard a mass in the most memorable church of my love life. This is the very church I first entered with my first guy. The very church where I promised that I would take care of the person beside me. And the very church that I took refuge to when I felt lonely the most. But today, I felt fearless and light-headed when I stepped into its tiled floor thinking that I should seek forgiveness from God, the only being I'm accountable to...


It came in like a surprise when the homily was about the "happiness" of the life we're leading to. Of all the places I would be preached of the most evasive but fulfilling happiness, I would get it from the place where I laid my happiness a long time ago. The priest spoke of happiness as if it was contentment. As if it was success in life. As if it was heaven. But he took it back by saying that life might squeeze us so that all that will be left is hate and sadness. It's our decision then if we seek for that sweet revenge or drink the "nutritious" juice of happiness back again.


My favorite part of that homily was "We are unhappy because of what we've done to ourselves only, nothing else."

On My Mind

It's so wonderful to see a sea of people clamoring and racing against each other whilst in the busy day of Divisoria. Yeah, it's Christmas time and everyone has money to spend for everything! But the euphoria left me wondering how on earth could these people splurge at the end of the year when they are struggling so hard after the holidays. Maybe my friend was right about the concept of seizing the moment.

Everyone is in celebration and doesn't want to lose the momentum. While the air of happiness and celebration is around, they tend to ride with it and just enjoy.

As for me, I am seizing the momentous part of the holidays deep down my thoughts. This will be the first time I'll celebrate the holidays with peaceful and solitary mind because this year is the turning point of my life...

The Fight

Today, I was informed of the war I have never realized that I already am fighting probably for several months now.
It's the war nobody would dare to get into. The kind of war that has a lose-lose situation.
It is said that even if you fight, the war will continue until it'll consume you.
The only effective strategy is to be strong for yourself.
Today is a new day. Like I was born the second time...

Memoir of a Gay-sha

Memories are our way of keeping the past alive. Some are so painful we never want to visit them again. But a memory can also be a gift, something we can open again in order to fill ourselves with happiness. And sometimes a moment becomes a memory the instant it's happening because it is so true, and so pure and so significant you want to capture it forever.


This is the exact words from one of my favorites TV series characters- Kyle XY.
Disclaimer: The writer of this blog has no proprietorial rights to the picture nor to the quote above.

Itim

Pasakay na sya ng motorela (isang klase ng sasakyan na pinapatakbo ng motorsiklo) nang sumalubong sa kanya ang wari'y hilaw na bati ng mga ka-baranggay. Napaisip sya kung bakit parang may kakaiba sa mga ito ngunit dahil mas iniisip nya ang patimpalak na gaganapin sa Lunes, hindi na nya ininda ang mga ito. Mataas ang hangad nya na mapasama sa mga pinakamagagaling sa Matematika sa kanila syudad. Kakaunti lang kasi ang may lakas ng loob na suungin ang laban sa mga numero kung ikukumpara sa ibang asignatura sa mataas na paaralan.

Sinipa ng drayber ang pedal at biglang tumakbo ang makina ng motorsiklo. Naglabas ito ng usok na kumalat sa gilid ng sasakyan. Kasabay nito ay ang isang tanong na nagdulot ng pagtataka sa mukha nya, "Kamusta ka na?," sambit ng isang ale na noon lamang sya kinausap. "Okay naman po," inosente nyang sagot. Bakas sa ale ang pagtataka. "Di mo pa ba alam ang nangyari sa tatay mo?" kumunot ang nuo. Umiling lang sya na punong puno ng tanong. "Patay na tatay mo." Mahina at malungkot na sambit ng ale.

Unang pumasok sa utak ng binatilyo ang posibleng biro ng ale. Pilit nyang iwinawaglit sa isip ang nasagap na balita sa gitna ng byahe. Lumipad ang kanyang isip sa kung saan. Gumaan ang kanyang katawan ngunit unti-unting bumibigat ang kanyang ulo. Ibinababa nito ang kanyanng buong pagkatao pabalik sa katotohanan ng buhay. Mga kalahating oras ding binaybay ng sasakyan patungo sa bahay na tinutuluyan ng pamilya ng binatilyo. Ngunit ang paglalakbay na iyon ay waring isang dekada ng lahat ng alaalang bumalot sa isipan nya.

Ang kanyang ina ay tulala, namumugto ang mga mata dala ng labis na pagluha. Madaming tao sa bahay. Noon lang sinakop ng mga kapitbahay ang antigo at walang lamang bahay na iyon. Nakakapanibago. Nakakasakal ang dami ng tao. Tila wala nang natirang hangin sa loob ng bahay.

Hindi naging madamdamin ang kanyang pagdungaw sa bangkay ng kinilala n'yang ama. Walang luha. Walang hagulgol. Ni walang kaunting iyak na namutawi sa kanyang bibig. Isang di maipaliwanag na tingin lamang ang kanyang naibigay sa amang hindi nya nakilala nang lubos at hindi sya kilala.

Isa lamang ang nasabi nya sa kanyang ama, "Sayang di mo na mararanasan ang inaasam mong maginhawang buhay. Sayang dahil hindi ko na maipapakilala ang tunay na ako pero sana maintindihan mong di ko sinasadya ang maging ganito."

O[Bar]MG!

Last saturday, after a very tiring trip somewhere in a nearby suburb, I, together with few of my friends, catwalked in a very familiar yet strange place for me. Maybe because it was a long time ago since I managed to enter such a place or maybe I haven't acquainted myself yet to the fact that, in one way or another, I have to visit there to widen my thoughts of the place.


That was the second time I entered O Bar. A very cold place but very warm in welcoming its guests to party and meet random warm bloods. At around 10PM, I knew only few has the heart to sustain the loneliness of the place since the real party starts by early midnight and ends at near morning. We found a certain niche upstairs and had three drinks which were covered by tickets. Not until we felt that the meager number of guests were not enough to uplift our spirits did we decided to tread down the ground floor. And alas! It was fully packed with different faces.


I checked every single soul in the smoky chamber not hoping to find someone who'd dare to take a look on such a mere usual face of mine but to observe. I saw two guys in one corner whispering at each other as if gossiping. Then, another guy is holding his beer bottle while caressing the music with his own bodily dance. At the mouth of the room were a few minding their own business but it's evident that they're looking for something or someone.


And my eyes were stuck into a rather familiar face. I couldn't remember him but something's telling me I know him. Maybe he also wore a familiar face, I said to myself. He was in the darker part of that room just smoking  and drinking while checking on every person passing by the center going to the bar area. Is he waiting for someone? Or is he also bored in his place and just wanna hang out? Looking at his gestures, it can be inferred that something's bothering him. I don't know if it was that someone he's waiting for or if he's just eager to see the world within the four corners of the famous O Bar. I was not quite sure.


I was intently staring at him hoping to completely see his face. Then, his eyes were drawn abruptly unto me. I was caught off guard and didn't know what to do then. I should have taken my eyes away from him but I couldn't. It's too late. And besides I didn't know where to pin my attention to. Thus, I stared. For a moment, I felt a connection between us. It's something I have never felt before. As if I knew him and he wants to know me. Then, he swayed his face and tried to reclaim himself from the same half-humiliation. I felt shy by then.


Although we stared at each other for a few seconds, I knew he was curious as I was. Curious of the reason why I stared at him like that. But he brushed off the curiosity. Me too.


I danced for while to ease up my drunkenness and release the alcohol lurking my head. Like him, I also swayed through the music. Felt it. Romanced with it. And finally, I was able to gather myself back and out I went to breathe only to find out he was also there. By this time, I didn't mind him anymore.


This is one of the most peculiar yet strange nights I had with so many unfamiliar faces. This is one moment when catching off guard is a usual thing. This is one of the moments we experience in an entertainment nook such as O Bar.

Just Thoughts

I'm not sure what to write today, so I decided to put some random thoughts which I supposedly post in my FB status. I changed my mind.


1. Can we just blend in our society and not create a new one within it? I hate secluding myself from the rest of the world when, in fact, we're part of it. There's nothing that we can do unless we conglomerate into one island, build our own country and fuck each other just like what we all think every second of the day. Let's stop acting like we're being discriminated all the time. We are the reasons why we're being banished by a lot of anti-homosexuals and homophobics. Some say that in time, the society will accept us. I say the society will only accept us if we accept the reality that we're not different from everyone else and that we follow the norms.


2. Maybe, the reason why gays can't be accepted wholly because they are defying the moral standards of the society. People like loud, successful and principled gays but not sex-addict ones. Sex plays a vital role in everyone's life and abuse of it is viewed as immoral. In the first place, sex is created basically for reproduction purposes only. It is formulated as very "delicious", delightful and appealing to encourage everyone to reproduce so as to preserve the species. And now, gays are giving a new and, somehow, unacceptable meaning to it- pleasure and undivine.


3. We can only give so much reason and debate about something for so long. In the end, it's what we believe that will eventually get into us. We will all go back to the basic moral fiber of our society and however we try to bend the truth and justify every turn of events, it's us we're accountable for. We transformed sex into something emotional, physical and a form of exercise because we're in denial of the fact that we're breaking the rules, our own beliefs and that of our society as a whole.


4. Yes, it is true that not only the homosexuals are responsible for the global HIV pandemic but that doesn't change anything. Actually, it didn't change most of us because the virus is still spreading the speed of light. I'm not questioning those who are infected or those who initiated the spread. I'm questioning everyone of us who carelessly and continuously practicing sex without thinking of any responsibility. When are we gonna take responsibility and set aside the itchiness we feel between our thighs? When are we gonna wake up? When all of us are already infected and slowly dying? Let us try to think. And please don't mistake my take on this as discrimination to those positives because I, myself, don't know if I have the virus in my system. I just think that we should act what's right. I'm acting it now for four months already and will continue until I have the emotional strength to get tested.


5. It's always hard to get respect when you're forcing anyone. Respect is the kind of gift no one is willing to give easily. It's the only thing a person can gain in no other way but proof of respect. Respect to thy self and to others. Respect is the one thing that a lot of homosexuals neglect to gain because they are devoured by their pride, ego and self-love.


I do not wish to aggravate anyone through these insights. Rather, I encourage everyone to think about it. Let it sink into your gray matter and let us hope it hit the right notes in you. The above opinions have been held into my mind for so long because I know it might offend a lot of people like me. I'm not saying I'm living up to those opinions but I'm trying. I own the responsibility for whatever these opinions may cause and I will try to answer every question be thrown on me. However, spare me from defending my own thoughts for I have nothing of purpose but mere understanding of the complexity of our kind.


I, also, am trying to find ways on how we're going to make everyone understand what we really are. Those who came before us have already succeeded in lifting our tag as mentally sick. Our task, now, is to make everyone else accept that we're not different. And everyone is responsible of making it come true. Unless you only think and take care of your own happiness, which is understandable in any way possible.


In conclusion, I would like to leave a note that says:
"The moment we stop aspiring for the greater good is the same moment that we lose our humanity, thus leaving us as mere homosexuals." -GB, Aug 23, 2010

Mickey Mice

It's Ondoy's fault! Everything has changed after that freaking typhoon hit Metro Manila. The flood that drowned the place to oblivion has caused the migration of all sorts of organisms from down under to the upper level of our apartment. Yes, those little and almost cute mice crawled their way up to my room. I already managed to exterminate the first inhabitants (except myself, of course) of my room but then, the second tenants made my room a cheerful habitat.


First, I used those sticky traps. I bought six pairs to make sure everyone is caught. It smelled sweet and seems appealing for a hungry organism. In a matter of two hours, two of them were already struggling for their lives and be free again. Fortunately, the glue in the trap is so convincingly strong they're unable to escape the inevitable death. Hahaha! I laughed. But when I look into their eyes, I saw pain. They're begging me to let go of them. No! I shouldn't pity them. They ate my Toblerone. They crashed into my favorite Vietnamese instant noodle soup. And they devoured my pistachios. Revenge! Criminals must pay. Justice must be served. And death is their sentence.


Perhaps, they learned their lesson (the deadly way) because even they're starving already they didn't dare to step onto the trap just to have a bite of the delicious chocolate bits I garnished on the trap. Hmmmm??? Damn you intelligent mice. You don't have the right to get that intelligence! It's for us only. Hahahahaha! Hayz... Crap trap.


Blame it to the food I store or left open but they're already getting into my nerves. My second remedy? Ready made bait. According to the product information printed on the box, this poisoned rice grains will slowly kill the rodent by dehydrating them. It is said that no fowl odor will be emitted since the bait will dry up the dead mice's body. Whoa! I never realized I was able to understand that. Well, after painstakingly researching on the effects of the chemicals, I deciphered everything. Hahaha! But wtf??!!! I didn't realize that they still can reproduce that fast! These mice must be so horny every second of the day. Damn sex life they have!


Because of the bait's failure, I decided to look for another way of killing every single mouse partying around my room whenever I am asleep. There's this one poison that takes effect in a matter of an hour. They won't have the time to rethink of eating the bait nor reproducing. Unfortunately, it's not available in the market anymore.


But wait there's one more! The ELECTRONIC RAT AND COCKROACH killer! Dahduh!
I met this killer just five days ago. I was strolling around the department store when I heard the salesman on a microphone calling out the mallers to be his audience but it was only me who obliged. It's a plug-in device designed to irritate rodents and cockroaches and other insects. I requested the salesman to explain how it works. When he mentioned about the radiation, my ear dinged. What radiation? I asked. He held my hand and had me hold a piece of metal. Then he pulled it towards the device. "Nararamdaman mo ba, sir?" "Ang alin?" "Di ata naka-on." Then a slight vibration became stronger. Whoa! Vibrator, eh! This must be interesting...


Sadly, I can't afford it yet. Not now...

Salamin, salamin! Sabihin sa akin!

Isa sa mga pinakakainisan kong bagay sa mundo ay ang salamin. Bakit kamo? Eh kasi isa itong malaking pagpapaalala sa mukha ko! Buti sana kung may naaaninag akong konting kagwapuhan sa tuwing nananalamin pagkatapos maligo. Oo, tuwing pagkatapos lang maligo kung manalamin ako. Kainis!


Pero kung tutuusin ang salamin ang pinaka-sandata ng mga tao laban sa kapangitan. Ito kasi ang walang kasinungalingang bagay. Ang bagay na magsasabi sa iyo ng totoo mong itsura. Maliban na lang kung bulag o di kaya'y nagbubulag-bulagan ka. Ito rin ang nagsusumigaw sa tuwing may makikita kang dumi sa mukha o sa katawan mo. Ito lamang din ang makapagsasabi sa 'yo ng walang pag-iimbot kung ang suot-suot mo'y hindi bagay sa 'yo. Hamakin mong dahil sa salamin naisasaayos mo ang tabingi mong make-up. O kaya naman ay ang magulo mong buhok. Ang salamin ang unang makapagsasabi sa 'yo na may mali sa iyo.


At kahit anong deny mo sa salamin, wala kang maitatago dito. Pwede mong takpan ang bahaging di mo gusto pero pag nasilip na ito ng salamin, wala kang magagawa kundi tanggapin ang katotohanang may ayaw ka sa kung saan mang bahagi ng katawan mo. Pero namamanipula din ang salamin lalo na ng mga gumagawa nito. Kaya kasi nitong i-bend ang katotohan. Kaya nitong palakihin ang bahaging maliit o di kaya'y paliitin ang malaki. Minsan naman may mga salaming sadyang nababaluktot ang tuwid. May mga salamin din kayang baguhin ang kulay. Meron ding kayang paghati-hatiin ang katoohanan. Eto yung mga salaming kung hindi maganda ang pagkakagawa, eh sinadyang gawin para dayain ang mata o kaya simpleng gawing palamuti lamang. Gayunpaman, nire-reflect lang nito ang kung ano mang nasasagap na liwanag.


Pansinin mo, kapag walang liwanag, wala ka ding makikita sa salamin. Nagkakaroon lang ito ng silbi kung maliwanag sapagkat kelangan nya ang liwanag para merong syang maipakita. Samakatwid, walang salamin kapag walang liwanag.


Naalala ko tuloy si Boy Abunda. Mahilig sya noon sa salamin. Pinapakausap nya mga interviewee nya dito. Siguro gusto nyang harapin nila ang sarili nila para matauhan. Para makita ang katotohanan sa kanilang sarili. Para maipamukha ng salamin ang mga bagay na ayaw nilang harapin. Para matauhan sila na ang katapat nating lahat ay isang kapirasong salamin na hindi marunong magsinungaling.


Sa tingin ko nga, salamin talaga ang pambansang best friend kasi hindi na sinungaling hindi pa pinagpipilitan na sya ang tama at totoo. Ipapakita nya ang ang lahat ng totoo. Ikaw na bahala kung tititigan mo ito o ipagwawalang bahala.

My Last Letter to A

Dear AR,


It has been two years since we shared the first same-sex relationship we ever had but it seemed like just weeks ago. I know I already have talked about all sorts of stories about us and all the emotions I had when we're together. Not until today that I realized I haven't moved on completely from you.


There was this one dawn when my bestfriend told me that he thinks we still love each other. I never reacted for I didn't know what to say. I was digging for answers inside my memories. Still I had no comment at that time. Several months passed. Your birthday came. Still I was thinking of that thought.


I slightly detached myself from every strand of connection or anything that would remind me of you to think everything over because I knew there's still something holding on to me. Until I answered my question. Yes, I still love you.


This came after thinking over my past two unsuccessful relationships after you. They never caught my love. I was ready then when they came but theirs never reached to the same point where we ended.


I know that this may sound so futile and pathetic but I never ceased to believe that we could be together after I ended everything. My breaking up from you was not actually intended to really break up but a stupid test I had in mind. I took the risk of losing you the moment I called it off. You obliged and never decided back.


I was in agony for several days and for the first time since 8 years ago, I cried. I cried for all the sad reasons in the world. I drank til I lost my sanity and just sleep it over. But every time I woke up, I was still in pain. All in all, ours never came easy but went away the hardest.


I just wanna say that I had been happy with you. You made me feel the best person in world.

Remember the song you sang? "There's a boy in my mind and he knows I'm thinking of him."
I wish you could still sing that song to me...


Right now, I'm letting go but not forgetting. I always remember. The pain never came back and only sweet memories. And every time I remember us, there's always a little smile in my lips.


Thank you.




More Love,
GB




P.S.
I know that ex's must not be befriended. I believe otherwise. Hope someday we can meet and date as friends, no malice whatsoever.

Sexuality is Fluid

These are the very words my all-time (pero hindi na ngayon) love had said while we're drunk in a bar somewhere in Quezon City in one of the gatherings with my college friends. "I can be like you anytime I wanted to." he added. Although I was so surprised and astonished on his revelations, I kept my excitement from escaping my mouth which at that time was dying to feel his very pink lips. "I would be pursuing you in case you decide to become one of us!" I whispered to him with flirty tone and a touch on his biceps. "Well, you've got me already. No need to pursue." Aaaaaw! We, then, laughed out loud. Good thing the music is louder than us. And NO, nothing had happened after that...


For a moment, I thought that sexuality is driven by so many factors. It is not defined by what you prefer to indulge into nor accentuated by the sexual encounters you've scheduled.  It's as complex as the intricate interconnection of life and laws of nature. Maybe this explains why some straight guys like to crossover from heterosexuality to homosexuality and back again. But according to academe sexuality is an orientation. So how do we explain crossing over of these guys? Simple, sexuality is fluid. It can go back and forth as explained by my psych graduate friend. Therefore, sexuality can defined by decision? Not quite. Still, it's more than that.


"Ang pagiging bakla ay isang desisyon!" exclaimed my officemate-friend. And I added, "Yeah, sexuality is a disposition of life."


My all-time love should have decided to become like me and be with me, and then after he can decide to go back again, so I thought.

First Encounter, Last Part

Dear FB,

I'm writing this because I feel that I need to let go of the memories we've shared and those nights we made more than satisfactory. Those nights were memorable not because I grew some sort of feelings for you (we're relatives, right?) but because those were a stage in my life. A chapter that turned everything upside down. It confirmed a lot of things in me and widened my perspective. But it created some questions that don't need answers anymore. I already agreed to leave the questions behind. Anyway, you're not answerable to me anymore. And your wife and child don't have to learn the things about your past.

First, I ask your forgiveness for I pledged (although not utterly but silently) I would keep everything in secret. That I would archive it and eventually delete from my memory. But it became like a virus replicating itself inside my head until it's beginning to infect my emotions. I just needed to let it out of my system.

I felt we're always in the same page. You knew how to treat me. I know how to react with your bursts. For some reason, we knew each other more than anyone else. This might be the reason why your instinct drove you to me. This might be the reason why even the length of time we're apart, you somehow still know me and I felt I still know you.

But it was a long time ago and I think everything has changed. I'm not the same boy you toy around when you wanted. I'm, now, a guy who can make a guy reach the heavens! I'm not the same tame sheep who would follow everything you'd say. I can make my own moves now. I can even command you during a heavenly tour.

It has been years and we part our ways. You are leading a life every man would've wanted. A family or your own. A woman you wanted to grow old with and a child/children to take care of. I am happy for you. In fact, I'm ecstatic! Just kidding but I really am happy that we've moved on without making any fuss about the past.

I realized that everything were just for lust. We're both young then and our curiosity we're at sky high. The urges we're so strong we couldn't fight it but go with it. Admit it or not, we enjoyed every sigh, moan and kisses. Again, it was a long time ago. I don't want to feed those memories with the emotions.

Lastly, this letter will be the only memoir of those nights. I'll push the button to archive it in my own memory...Zipped and archived.

GB

Last Flight With The Butterfly

I never knew that was the last time I'd ever see him again. He was beautiful. His beauty spells that of serenity and pure kindness.

I remember the first time I saw him. It was a very rainy night and I felt very cold. It seemed that the happiness was stolen from every corner of the world and all was left is loneliness. No warmth within the smiles of the passersby. Everything is just so sad. Then he came out of the busy crowd. He was not smiling but his happiness radiated.

However happy he was inside and no matter how glad I was to see him, I knew then that something was going to happen.

Each small step I made was like leaps away from him. Silence has engulfed both of us while we're together treading the empty streets we used to dream about. I never knew what to say for it was my last flight with him. He would never come back to me. Never ever.

He stopped... I stopped but I was ahead of him. I was always ahead of him. I was with him but in the future.

He was now. I was tomorrow.

I was the architect. He was the builder.

But he became tired. I became more aggressive. I became faster. And I forgot he was holding my hand until he let go of me.

I looked back but I didn't see him anymore. Not the one I used to know. Not the very person I met in that gloomy afternoon when it all began.

His hands were open, waiting for me to go back and hold it again. But I saw there were hands holding his feet tightly. He couldn't walk with me and I knew if I went back I would be stuck with him to the present and, eventually, to the past.

I uttered the words he dreaded to hear. The words I long kept. "I love you." He couldn't say these same words. He didn't have the strength anymore. He was already consumed by his own weakness.

Then, his face fell. There was darkness within it. The same darkness I saw in death.

Then, the monster in me overwhelmed my soul. It's growling. It's angry. Angry at him. He who conquered everything first... I tamed. With him I felt the most wondrous moments I thought. To him I created the future...

I forgave... I bid goodbye... To him... to love

I was flying, now, without a heart.

On My Brother's Graduation Day

I decided not to attend my brother's elementary graduation day sometime nine years ago. Not that I hate the heat of the sun but I just didn't feel going.

So, I was wandering in our nearly deserted village (a lowly and poor one). There's this one neighbor of ours who was very fond of showing of his lean body every time we go swimming in the beach. We're actually playmates when there's nothing to do during weekends. We usually swam and dive the depths of the boat hulls, and play the hide-and-seek sea version. I liked playing with him because I usually get wet! Hahahaha! We always played in the water. Even taking a bath together in the nearby pump. Yes, he only wore skimpy briefs. It's like I wanted to put soap all over his innocent body, scrub him and eventually cleanse him using my hands. What a slut mind!

After, walking in the beach, I sat down on a bench near the intersection of the roads going to city proper, thinking of what to do in a boring summer vacation. Minutes after, I saw this "favorite" guy and signaled that he'd sit down with me. I obliged. He began talking to me about the "wholesome" adventures we had. I must admit, I was not listening to him but he ignored it. Until he was talking about DICKS! And of course, it deviated my mind-trip back to him. He looked at me intently while he's talking about his barkadas' cumming sessions and I thought he saw my eyes widened. What the F?! Why is he talking about those things. I didn't say anything that would lead to such topic. But his intention was revealed the moment he put his hands inside his briefs and started to play with it.

My heart pumped fast that I could not breath comfortably. I hesitated to believe what he's doing. I knew he's up to something but I didn't know what to do. The place was too public to do such a thing! OMG! I couldn't just panic around and let myself in in that place.

So, turned back, stood and walked towards our house. Good thing, my brother is having graduation and I, on the other hand, is completely alone! I was murmuring "Don't go after me." about 10 times. When I reached the gate, I heard his footsteps. Okay, this is it. He'd like to play with me and I'm getting wet again...

To be continued...

Crybaby

The first time I cried, as in super cry with all the "uhog" (mucus) and river of tears, was when I was seven years old. Maybe I've been emotional since then but rarely cried. I always kept my emotions inside my blood vessels and heart. True that I've been a silent and timid, and even slightly effeminate as what my cousins described me, but I just shrugged everything that's been happening around me. My escape from all the turmoil going on inside my frail body (I remember this description from the first fubu I had, hahahahaha! sorry EJ for mentioning you here) was always the wild and corruptive slum environment. Yes, I've experienced to live in a slum and squatters' area for about four of my primary years.

It was fun to be with all the kids in our community. There, you'd find all sorts of children. From rugby-boys, snatchers and prostitutes to nerds, altar boys (ooohh, hot boys! ahahahaha!) and, of course, gays. As for me, I only mingle with the good boys because I already learned that people will be able to tell who you are merely by the type of friends you hang out with and I have to always give good impressions to my family and relatives. We always liked to play the usual games that require 1000 calories, which includes hide-and-seek, habulan-taya and patintero. Sometimes, we do the bahay-bahayan but I always played the part of the middle child and I didn't do any chores at all. The whole baranggay (village) is our playground and sometimes it was not enough so we included the Manila Memorial Park where we had our pseudo-picnics with all the veggies that we picked from our neighbor's semi-garden. Too much of that; I'll post an entry about that next time.

Going back to that dreadful "cryola" event. The story in the previous paragraph is, actually, the result of this event. A day before that big event, I was searching for my Mama in her quarters but couldn't find her. Yes, at the age of seven or even younger, I was already separated from my mother and guess where? In a very popular orphanage in Manila. No, I'm not an orphan and wasn't at that time. Both of my parents were alive, though my Papa passed away about nine year after this. After that long search for her, I decided to go to the playground in front of our classroom and had a swing. I liked sitting in a swing merely because I haven't experienced it before. It gave me tranquility and time for myself. Imagine at the age of seven I was already a loner!

It's nearly dark and, still, something was bothering me. I missed Mama and only her. I wanted her to embrace me from my loneliness and kiss my forehead before I sleep. It was that time that I felt so awkward about the world and it seemed that the human civilization was conspiring against me. I felt something was wrong. Then, someone tapped my shoulder. I hoped it was Mama, I could even imagine her at my back but the voice was different. It was our house mother- a guardian in what is called dormitory in an orphanage. She asked me, "Bakit andito ka pa? Kanina pa kita hinahanap? Saan ka ba nagsususuot na bata?" (Why are you here? I've been looking for you?) I just stared at her and I saw that she felt something about it. I thought she was thinking, "What the hell is going on with this shit kid?" Then, she tried to hold my hand but I didn't allow her. I walked away with disappointment.

After that night, I did the usual routine- taking a bath but this time I enjoyed it because I took a bath using a hose in front of the church. I just enjoyed being alone in my open-field bathroom in front of that holy infrastructure. And I was doing it (bath) naked!

While I was in the classroom learning those stupid English words, somebody knocked and called our teacher. She looked at me so as my teacher while whispering something. Minutes after, I was sitting on a teacher's table inside the Mother Superior/Principal's officel crying my heart out. The reason? I was about to decide my own life at the age of seven!

I really didn't remember how they started that litany but what I understood was that I needed to choose one of my parents. It was not clear to me but everything made sense when they already laid down the scenarios. If I choose my Mama I would be living in that hell dormitory where my housemates were retarded, rugby-boys and children from hell. I have nothing against these children but living with them was like a purgatory on Earth. I was not even mature enough to absorb all those shit plus I have parents or even a group called FAMILY! For Pete's sake, I couldn't stand those so dirty restrooms where shits were all over the walls. My bedsheets smelt like garbage because the drooling retard really liked to bathe it with his ever sour saliva. And those snatcher-bastards made my days so sickly. Our very large room which felt like a very big oven where those Jews were roasted by Nazis, added all the horrors. Those nuns who were hypocrites and hobbies include constant gossiping. The never ending novenas and rosaries we pray. How could they torture us with this activity when, in fact, they should be taking care of our childhood? They were penalizing us by forcing us to kneel for hours of constant repetition of those prayers. And I should not forget the house mother who looked like the devil's wife and treated us like we're her slaves! Oh yes, I thought of these things even when i was seven years old. I didn't like it there.

I knew Mama would be disappointed if I choose Papa over her. I didn't want to choose him because I longed for my Mama's cuddle. Those moments when she'd just stare at me playing with those little garbage I snatched from the trashcans. I remembered the day she took care of me when I got ill. I thought I would miss all the motherly care. That's when my tears flowed from my eyes like the water from Angat dam that was released from the reservior. Then, a small sound was echoing inside me saying "Let it out!" That tiny sound became loud and seemed to choke me. And there was I, crying out loud. I thought of words to say while crying but my vocal chords were not able to engineer those words. I wanted to curse the Mother Superior for bringing my family into a mess. I thought she broke my family. She brain-washed my mother that it's no good to stay with my father!

I didn't remember how they tamed me from crying. All I could think about that time was I would be taken away from Mama. That they would take away my childhood-growing in a happy, complete family! I saw my older sister across the table looking at me and crying but her mouth was mum. I knew she wanted to rescue me from the emotional death I was enduring. I knew she thought who I'd choose. I thought she could see it in my eyes. And she's mad at me for that.

I didn't remember how I said my decision because it was too painful for me. It's like I hit my head with a very big bang. I left that room still crying but a little bit of comforted. Somebody hugged me but I didn't even care because all I could think about is a loss. I thought that my life would end up the same whoever I chose- a messed up childhood. I was not wrong...

And I chose my father and went to that slum area thereafter. I had independence from the retards in that orphanage but I missed my mother so much. The pain didn't stop but I outgrew my longing for her and accepted the fact that I could never see my family whole again...

A New Day Has Come

Today, I made a promise to myself while strolling in Mall Of Asia. It's something I haven't done for the longest time I remember. I already thought of it last night but it seemed impossible for me to keep it after an emotional turbulence has calmed down but, alas, I was able to still feel the urge of doing some things in my little unknown life even after the turmoil I was into. This maybe a sign, hence the changes I wanna do for the better.

First, I'd be more conversant and more inquisitive. You see, back in college, I always listened to people. Hearing, digesting and concluding on the ideas, thoughts and emotions of my peers, friends and clients (means those I counselled) became more of an obligation before. I was not able to listen to myself and be heard by most of these people. Thus, when I got out of college, I became more of myself. For almost four years after college I became more self-centered, which I haven't done ever since. I want to go back to that wonderful stage when I learned a lot from other's pains, sorrows and happiness. So now, more of others, less of myself.

Second, I know I already expanded my horizon and met almost everyone. Hahaha! I meant all sort of people. You might be surprised but I already traveled from Luzon to Mindanao but not for luxury nor business nor work, of course. I'm yet to become a travel whore who can afford lush hotels and lustful vacations. My second promise is actually more on knowing the people I already met and had meal, sex and/or kisses with. This maybe impossible but I'm planning to meet again every face I've met since I developed the so-called sex-life, oh sorry, social life.

Third, since PNoy promised transparency, I also promise to become more transparent of how and what I feel. Don't worry I only intend to show the positive emotions. Occasionally, I can be the bitchiest bitch but I promise that my intentions of expressions are of good.

With these in mind, I, now, bind myself to the Unbreakable Vow! Waaah! This is it. No turning back. Can I just breathe the long last air of my old self? Woah! Hayz... As if may naniniwalang masama ako! Chos.

I, G, has bound myself to the above-mentioned promises. I will carry out these promises to the best of my ability. And if I shall fail, I will nail myself in a cross upside-down. Sorry. Okay, if I shall fail I hope everyone of you will forgive me and give another chance.

Thanks.

First Encounter, Part 1

While writing this, I felt like vomiting. I just had my second stick of cigarette but I still felt like smoking hundreds. My fingers were shaking so I had to slowly push the keypads to completely translate that night into a coherent story.

I still don't know what may happen after revealing the darkest secret I haven't shared to anyone but God. Read on...

He is a relative.

My before-bed scene started with the thoughts of the bikini-ed R-rated-movie actor I saw that morning. I was thinking of him beside me naked and embracing my entirety with his warm arms. I remembered I thought us kissing and making out. It lasted for as long as I was still awake until I fell asleep.

Then, suddenly, something tickled on my thighs like a warm breathe. I couldn't make out of that thing nor imagine what it was. Slowly, fingers treaded through my toes, pulled it and eventually folded my leg. But it was not the ordinary pull. It was a caress I've never encountered before. I must say that it felt great and orgasmic.

When my leg was almost completely folded, I felt that warm something again sandwiched between my skin. It was the penis of "B", served hard and steamy. He pushed his thing then pulled and so on. Then, he searched for my hand. At this point, my heart was beating three times the normal not because this is my first encounter but because I was afraid.

I was afraid that someone might catch us. I was afraid because I could painfully lose my virginity at the young age of 12. I was afraid because this might confirm the doubts about the true me.

However, he was able to maneuver it as if he can see me in the absence of light. Next thing I know was were kissing. Not just the usual kiss but a kiss I couldn't imagine he could do. His tongue toured into my mouth and commanding me to do the same with his.

He wrapped his arms in me just like I imagined it with the actor I saw in Bulgar (local tabloid). And the rest was a tasteful work of lust.

Honestly, I felt good and bad at the same time. But I think I enjoyed it because I craved and did it more with him...