Thursday, December 30, 2010

Of Popoy And Basha

Naku naman, kung dalawin ako ng malas eh sunud-sunod.
My sister was watching One More Chance when I woke up sa couch.

I immediately cry seeing this scene:


Naalala mo nung ako yung nandyan? O, e diba’t ikaw pa ang nagsabi sakin na kaya baka tayo iniiwan ng mga taong mahal natin kasi baka merong bagong darating na mas okay. Na mas mamahalin tayo. Yung taong hindi tayo sasaktan at paaasahin. Yung nag-iisang taong magtatama ng mali sa buhay natin. Ng lahat ng mali sa buhay mo.

Ang drama lang.

Ako ya gihilanat ko subong kag gina asthma waay mahimo di sa balay. Powtah.


I should probably be jaded by my experience, but I'm not. I can sort of understand how it happened. I'm still hoping that someday I'll get it right and whoever he is, he'll get it right, too. Few wrong Prince Charmings first before Mr. Right di ba? To all my people who've made a choice to hold on to who they are, don't be afraid. It'll come y'all. Our small world may not be ready for us yet, but someday, that part of our lives will bloom, when it's ready to take the risks. *nahks* If it doesn't, there's always the rest of the world.

And, there's always other days and dates, for as long as Madonna lives on.


Puwede ba, wag mong palabasin na ako yung naghahabol sa'yo at kasalanan mo rin na hindi ka nagset ng boudaries?! Ang kapal lang ha. Ikaw na ang pinaka guwapong nilalang. I still have your messages kumag. Bakit hindi mo maamin na kating kati ka lang talaga. That you are just a coward and an ass...

I have an attitude and I know how to use it.


Of Anger And Pain

This is for YOU.


There are definite stages that people go through when coping with difficult and challenging experiences in their lives.

I'm currently on the second one: ANGER.

I have passed Denial swiftly since my personality often refuse to deny general truths and pre-existing conditions.

The question is, how do I cope up with this stage? Believe me, this is going to hurt me too.

The pain you are about to feel will also be my pain, although not too long ago, mine had not been yours. I should have warned you before everything began; I should have told you about my flaw before I let you in my world. Maybe I would not need to do this. To hurt you will not be easy.


It has been written over and over, happy is the person who finds joy in sunshine through a window, bliss in smileys and random text messages, music in the laughter of playing children, pleasure in a borrowed book read over a lazy weekend.

And many believed.

Yet few realized the repercussions of living in the little things. Because just as they are the trinkets of happiness in our every day, they are, when neglected, constant reminders of what is unrequited.

The little things never were important to you, in the same way, I am inclined to think, I never was.

I am angry. I am hurt. And before all the hurting turns to hate, over which I am afraid I have no control, I must hurt you back. You are the reason. Somehow, you have yet to see that.


I remember how, as a child, I used to skip dinner whenever my mother would scold me. It was cruel, knowing how she would later feel guilty about her son hungering the whole night; it was nonetheless the perfect strategy to get what I wanted.

At a very young age, I discovered how pain changes people.

It is solitude in a vacant seat that shows us who and what really matter, indifference in empty conversations that reminds us of the people and things we have taken for granted.

Pain confronts us with the realities happiness cannot. Pain is liberating.

Do not be afraid. It is still I, the one who taught you are indeed a royal prince beyond your imperfections, that you don't have to feel like you have to be perfect, that you're the best version of a charming fairytale hero in your white clothes..



who took me for granted,
who can't seem to understand that mourning over a mother's death was hard enough,
who can't honor a promise made that you can and will wait,
who made me believe that everything will be ok,
who trusted me with your name which, as you said, is too personal,
who really digs men over women but professes being straight to the bone (even if you scream homosexuality),
who entrusted me with your pictures that are not for public consumption,
who exchanged sexual fantasies over phone calls (and always have a stiffy everytime you talked to me),
who believed that you found your match in me since you're exclusively a top,
who met me with this blog since you have yours
who is supposed to heal and treat people, not hurt them,
who played with my emotions,
who is a coward,
who is a liar,

yes you,
just you...

It is still I, I who will hurt when I see you hurt.

This is a cycle that must come to pass.

When it does, I do hope you forgive me, as I would forgive you.


Prolly I'll skip bargaining.
I'm not that desperate.
And besides, you found your "match" right?


Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Of Broken Glass Slippers

Believe me when I say glass slippers aren’t for running. I didn’t and I kept running until the stupid things shattered beneath my feet. And, now, I’m walking barefoot. Just like a child selling flowers on the street. Glass is really cold when it’s cold and really hot when it’s hot. There’s no logical reason for living in a glass house, much less for wearing glass slippers. They really aren’t for running. They’re for fairy tales and for being carried across thresholds by charming Princes. They’re also for the really stupid who don’t realize that glass slippers are a health hazard. Guilty.

I’m nobody here. But, in the real world, I’m a boy trying his best to grow up without completely hurting himself. So, thank you, for welcoming me into your world and for listening awhile to the mindless nonsense that dribbled while using my glass slippers. But there's one thing you ought to know. I am bleeding right now. For my glass slippers were broken. We were running then instead of just walking. Now it hurts so bad.

We have our own glass slippers. We just have to figure out when to wear them.. and when it’s time to take them off.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Of Affirmations And A Much Needed Strength

I am ready to heal my heart.

I'm getting there...

One step at a time. That is how I will get where I am going.


If I can endure for this minute whatever is happening to me.
No matter how heavy my heart is or how dark the moment might be...
If I can but keep on believing what I know in my heart to be true,
That darkness will fade with morning and that this will pass away too..

Then nothing can ever disturb me or fill me with uncertain fear,
For as sure as night brings dawning, my morning is bound to appear...

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Of A Great Woman And A Loving Mom

When I was a young boy, there were three words that my mother said to me each morning, five days a week, nine months a year for 6 years....RISE AND SHINE, she would say. It meant we were to get up for another day of school.

If I had known then, what I know now, there would have been about five words I would have said to her each time.  My mother didn't have the benefit of a good, solid education. But, she was the smartest person I've ever known. She didn't have a diploma or degree from any school are university. But, she had a PhD in life and yet another, in love.

Many had said of her that she did too much for us, her children. It was said that perhaps she loved us too much. But, I ask of you, just how can you do too much for your children and even more, how can you love them too much? What people seemed to forget was the circumstances surrounding our life at home when we were coming up. She had to be both mother and father to us. Yes, we had a father there, in body. It was mama who did for us, it was mama who watched out for us, it was mama who calmed our fears.  It was mama who said that one day things would get better for us, that the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't an oncoming train. She was right.

What I remember most, was my mama sitting up all night in a hardback chair...quietly weeping, quietly praying for me throughout a miserable night after i had an operation. THIS...was my mother. I've often thought the highest praise you can give any woman is to say she is/was a good mother. This being the case, my mother was the very personification of a good mother.

She loved us unconditionally and her entire life was devoted to us, right to the very end. Sure, she had faults, just as we all do. But, she admitted hers, while so many others find themselves faultless. She's be the first to admit her faults...she was so very humble.  For the first time in the 24 years of my life, I'll face Christmas without my beloved mother. It will be difficult, to be sure.

She taught us how to laugh, how to love, how to give comfort, how to live our lives morally and there at the end...mama showed us how to die. I comfort myself in the knowledge that she is with Jesus, and her sister who was so tragically killed nine years ago...something she never was able to recover from.

She no longer suffers from crippling arthritis, diabetes, heart disease, high blood pressure, eye disease or other problems that I can't remember right now. But, despite it all, my mother's faith in God remained unshaken, she believed on the Lord with all her might.

Finally, someday I too must pass from this world, just as we all must.  Somehow, someway, I just know...I just know that I will hear that sweet, familiar voice say 'rise and shine' and I will turn to her and say...
Thanks mama, thanks for everything.

 I love you Ma.

*I will be on a hiatus for the time being. Let me grieve for awhile... See you soon.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Of Flaws And Imperfections

He doesn't have to feel like he has to be perfect
He doesn't always have to wear the perfect clothes or put on the perfect scent
Because in my eyes he would be the most beautiful man in the world
His so called "imperfections" are what entices me
When he says the wrong things or does something embarrassing
that is when I know he is real, he's not just another "one of those"
I accept him for everything he is, good or bad
His "flaws" do not make him look bad, they define who he is
They make him unique
Which I love
I love so much.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Of A Long Talk And Some First Impressions

Yes, you.

You who make my knees jelly and hands sweaty.
You who unleash the herd of mammoths in my tummy.

You who blows my composure with a mere laugh.
You who inspires me to devise poetry in seconds.
You who ensnared me without a warning.

Yes, you.

Just you.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Of Depression, Sickness And Morning Sex

There is just so much depression and bad luck that a person can take. For two nights last week, I literally tossed and turned in bed, making me lose sleep and grow these eyebags to humongously bloated sizes. Plus, I suffered from anxiety attacks wherein I almost felt like I was being haunted in broad daylight.

Fortunately, my luck has changed its course. (Whew.)

The start of the week, well, I thought I was doomed to another long and miserable workload wherein bitching and ranting will most probably reign and my "cussing" skill (can't get it out of my system), honed to it's best.

But sheer patience, determination, kapal-ng-mukha and a lot of prayers have made me cope with these problems. The top three need-to-do-badly's in my weekly task have now been struck out.

Sometimes life's good. Sometimes life's bad. And sometimes, I just don't know what it is.

But let me impart a gold nugget of wisdom I have gotten from this learning experience: IT WOULDN'T KILL YOU TO TRY.

Remember that.


I've caught something. *Ah-chooo!*


I hate having colds because of the stuffiness in my nose, making it hard to breathe through my nostrils and thus causing chapped lips because I have to breathe through my mouth or die from lack of oxygen (as if my brain hasn't suffered enough from oxygen depletion).

Having said that, it's also hard to eat because I can hardly chew, swallow and take in gulps of air all at the same time. Sigh, not being able to eat already makes me sad. 


I had sex for breakfast. Ang saya.

Nakamasid ako sa may bintana ng aking opisina na tanaw ang kahabaan ng Ayala Ave. habang nagdedeliryo sa laswa ng mga kaganapan.

I leave that to your imagination. =P

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Of Closets And Correspondences

Some weeks back, I met this guy, Jeff, online (I've actually changed his name, obviously, because he's specifically requested I would not "out" him, and I'm feeling sympathetic). We exchanged messages for a while and then eventually agreed to meet up to see if things sparked.

He ended up being a pretty nice guy, a guy I wouldn't mind knowing socially, though there were many flashing red lights for me: He's a Mormon (and I haven't met an unmarried sexual Mormon who wasn't some sort of psychotic, and then there's the whole no alcohol or drugs or caffeine bit). He's a closeted Mormon (which makes sense, not being closeted would make him excommunicated, but still--closeted guys are tricky enough without the extra hang ups inherent with Mormonism). He's a rather conservative (which is pretty much my diametric opposite), and went on a lengthy rant about how he hates that homosexuals are fighting for "special" rights, like marriage, etc. when they don't need any "special" rights (I really shut so much of this particular conversation out, as I didn't feel like entering a large argument at the time). He hates the color orange (I've two orange shirts of which I'm quite fond. I'm still that shallow).

Anyway, we decided we'd meet again and continue getting to know each other better, blah, blah, an urban gay speak it usually meant quite the opposite, so I wasn't surprised that I never heard from him again.
Except he's just begun e-mailing me again, expressing how he'd lost my number (heh) and that he was also scared by my honesty about my sexuality. He's struggling with his identity as a gay man vs. his identity as a good Mormon and wants someone he can share his feelings with freely as he's confused about his life.
Typically, I encourage kids to stay closeted while they're minors if they live in a home environment that is more likely to condemn them than accept them. On the flip side, I'm not very fond or accepting of gay adults who are closeted. Personally, I think that an adult has the power to create their own safe space and they should take responsibility for being true to themselves. I can understand the fear of losing your family's love...but how can a person feel their family really loves them if their family doesn't really know them? This guy's thirty-two. He doesn't have to worry about his family beating him or kicking him out of their house. He does have to worry about a religion that is very harsh towards homosexuality (while purporting the opposite amongst themselves). That just opens a whole other can of worms for me. I don't get the religious types who still follow along dogmatically to a religion that condemns their very being.

I don't get it.

I want to be a good person, be there for this guy and help him become a person who is more capable of accepting himself for who he is. I don't know how I can do this without counselling him heavily to come out of the closet and let the change that brings come. I know the unknown is a big scary, but I'm of the opinion that bottling your identity up is far more harmful to yourself.


I got back to him, very brief:


You can trust that I won't reveal your sexuality to anyone. At the same time, if you were to be my friend, and ever spend time with me when I was with other friends, I'm not sure the same should apply. If we were to meet only with each other, that would be one thing. I'm very understanding of your personal quandary in trying to make a sensible balance of a life as a gay man in your background. I understand how hard it is to think of the possibility of family, church etc. finding out who you really are and rejecting you. But I don't think you'll ever feel truly comfortable in your own skin by leading a double life--I think you end up causing yourself more confusion and personal harm in the long run. And by no means will we be having sex? If you ask, I'm gone.

His response:

Thanks, that was a really sweet note. You still sound like a nice guy and we should hang out. Thanks for being so understanding. Sometimes I just want to be with someone I can feel safe with and trust and be able to talk and stuff. You seem like a nice guy. 

Yawn. I'm a nice guy? I fucking hate that. Yes, I can be nice, but I tell you now, if you think that's my driving personality trait, you should really try to know me better, because you're sans clue.

At any rate, I plan to keep our friendship and my status as understanding friend on a via e-mail and YM's only basis for the forseeable future. I think I'm just as capable of talking and dispensing understanding and advice thru writing as I am in person--and that will take away the risky possibility of my irresistable nature adversely affecting him.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Of Books And Love Affairs

It's supposed to be a nightstand, a small table beside my bed. Pero obviously mukha na syang bookshelf. Kawawa naman yung picture frames, wala nang silbi.

My love affair with books are like my (pseudo) past and future relationships. A totally blinding realization for me when I had the chance to sort my books last night. Like dealing with men, I’m not one of those people who can casually pick up a book and leave it anytime, not caring if they’ve finished reading it. Hey, I'm a financial analyst, I should have the patience of a proofreader.

It takes a lot of effort for me to find a book to read: cruising it at the bookstore, eyeing it on the shelf, walking nonchalantly, giving it a small smile as I pass by.

When I finally summon enough courage to approach it, I go tentatively, studying the cover, perusing the blurb, flirting with the first page. Sometimes I can get very daring and read an entire chapter. Scandalous! The clerk eyes me disapprovingly behind the counter.

When the plot clicks, I get this rush, this giddy feeling. I have to rush to pay so I can go home and get into bed with it. I spread its pages apart and dive in. I am enthralled, passionately reading all night.

In the morning I wake up and it is lying tenderly on my chest. Not just one for a nightstand.

When a book is really good, I keep it forever. It occupies a very special space in my bookshelf, in my life.

But once in a while, I get a book that starts out good but starts to turn bad. I have made a bad judge of cover.

I find it hard to abandon a book. I usually stick with it to the bitter end. I am co-dependent that way: even though I derive no more pleasure with it, I cannot untangle myself. I am bound to it.

I try to negotiate with it. Another few pages I say, maybe it will get better.

But it doesn’t.

I can get really violent. I will slam the book close in disgust, or throw it physically across the room. But in the cold light of the morning, I am ashamed when I see its cover bruised, battered, lying there forlorn.

A friend may see the book and ask me what happened. An accident, I say, the door...

But even though I carefully consider each book I encounter, most often, I get this feeling, like it wasn’t meant to be. You know the kind: you have fun while it lasts but when The End comes, you part ways amicably.

Just another by-the-book affair.

I try to remember why it didn't work out. But my memory of that particular story only comes in bits and pieces. I realize it doesn't matter, I've already turned the page...

Of A Caffeine Addiction And Some Realizations

I just realized that you'll never really learn to appreciate a nice hot mug of steaming coffee unless you've been out long in the cold. I used to think that the idea of a hot meal or a hot drink is so cliche. I mean, food of course, would be better if served hot, unless it's ice cream. Thing is, it all seemed the same to me before. Until that morning. And I am wondering why and how, in the face of the whole cornucopia of things urgent and pragmatic stirring my life around, would this stand out to claim my awareness, like some pathetic and dismal version of stopping to smell the flowers.

I've had coffee every morning for most of my adult life. I get a headache if I don't get my caffeine fix. Now I'm seeing coffee in a different light. It used to be something I had to have so I could function properly in a 24-hour period. Now suddenly, I realize it can be a source of comfort and in the exact second when I found myself freezing cold and despondent for it, it was all the world for me.

I wonder if there's the slightest chance this could be done with people... I mean, see them in a different light. Or maybe, just as it happened to me and my coffee, we are left at the mercy of a spontaneous, unguarded moment that gives way to profundity.

Well, unfortunately now is not the time to dwell on it. Yet again, this champ falls victim to the tyranny of the urgent.

Some other time then... some other place...

Monday, November 15, 2010

Of Missing Shoes And Some Parental Orgies

I am having really weird dreams as of late.

Last night there was a woman with a major facial hair problem. No, it wasn't that she was a man masquerading as a woman...she really was a woman.

Then there was the dream where I was caught by my mother having sex with a guy and decides that everyone else is going to sleep in that room with me. Why? I have no clue.

Then there was the dream where I couldn't find my shoes. That was the entire dream. I can't find my shoes.


So, what do these dreams mean? Beats me...

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Of A Random Flirt With A Fasfood Stranger

1 in the morning.

was too sleepy but feeling hungry. hauled myself to nearby fastfood.

got my food and sat across a fairly cute guy.

caught him looking at me. he smiled.

i picked up my food. sat next to him.

me: i don’t know if you’re one of those guys who need an excuse to sit with strangers but if you are, let’s agree on the medical fact that eating alone is bad for your stomach. or liver. or spleen. i really don’t know. but one of them should be right.

he turned beet-red and laughed self-consciously.

me: you don’t have to worry about me asking you for your number or where you live. i don’t have any intention of invading your life. i just want to sit next to somebody here and now. nothing more.

after a while we were talking animatedly. when he offered his number, i said no. it was more fun that way.

and i remember wondering why someone told me sometime ago that i come on too strong…

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Of Whining And Self-analysis

After working for a good two-thirds of a fockin fortnight, I find myself completely out of whack. My laundry has gone up to a near unmanageable pile. The fridge is near empty while the pantry is full of trash masquerading as food. Almost all of our provisions are in the fockin red. And if not for my dear bestfriend, there will be no decently cooked food in the house. Heck, we probably won't even have water! Gah.

I have to schedule my clients' appointments all within a week's time cause each one of them is overdue. I am once again unable to keep up with my inbox. Bills and receipts, notices and return stubs are waiting to be filed soon as they come out of their individual envelopes. Ironing clothes has become a thing of the past. My car is a moving dustbin. And if not for online banking, I will probably be late paying each and every one of my bills each and every month.

How one can I live like this, I have no idea. I can't. I can't sleep very well with all these nagging me at the back of my mind. And could I be any more deprived? Hello... I work 13 fockin hours per day, for Pete's sake! I am inadvertently in limbo until I have all these fixed and in place so technically, I am not even getting anywhere or having anything accomplished. And you know what the funny thing is? I'm in this rut because I believe I've been working! Catch 22? You tell me.

I know, I know. It's a tough life and the way things are going, I should be thankful that I have a job and of course I am. How can I not be? It's just that I also wish we could always eat the right stuff, you know. That there aren't days when we have to settle for what we can throw together in a jiffy because that is all that we can manage. Or else we can always opt for the default... eat out, which is easy but not nifty. 2 weeks ago, I had some time to cook for my closest friends, which was a weekly task before I have this current job. I will not forget the look on their faces... the look of satisfaction on their faces until the final desert... made more outstanding in my mind because I know I haven't cooked for them in quite a while.

I long for mornings past when I'd wake up but I didn't really need to get up... I had time to reacquaint with myself. I had time to plan the day without finding myself finally getting caught up on the 24th hour. I had time to get on my dogs' nerves... and then laugh afterwards. In a nutshell, I had time to feel something... something else... besides being exhausted. That was just last week. I fockin miss that.

I am trying to remember if in my recent past I have wished for this, or at least for the part of it that was obviously appealing. We never do see the bigger picture, do we? We're never smart enough for that. We always seem to miss seeing the part where it says 'difficult' and I take my hats off to that part in the human spirit that will keep refusing to see that it has indeed become 'difficult.' I keep forgetting that our smallest decisions become vast by implication. They will always encompass our whole lives.

And yet tomorrow, we are going to Binondo ... something I have never done for the past 5 years or so to gratify my tummy's longing for chinese food.. Ah life... you ole bugger!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Of Melanie Marquez And The Pearly Gates Of Heaven

Melanie Marquez and Saint Peter meet at the gates of heaven.

MM: Where am I?

SP: Welcome, Melanie.

MM: Oh. My. God.

SP: Not exactly. But you will meet Him inside.

MM: Wa-what? I cannot be dead. I am one of the last living Ms. International na buhay!

SP: Unfortunately, the plane you were riding crashed.

MM: Oh no...we had a planecrash-ed?

SP: (Nods solemnly.) But the good thing is, you have reached the very gates of heaven. You are in a far better place. Now, tell me in order to gain entrance to heaven, have you been a good and faithful servant?

MM: Servant? Of course not! My beauty is not like a maid, muchacha noh! Don't forget that I am a long-legged Ms. International!

SP: Ah, but it is wrong to belittle other people based on their status in life. It is a sin to judge others--

MM: I know! Because others are not a book, diba? That's what I said to Kris Aquino. I told her kapatid ko pa rin si Joey. We are one and the same!

SP: What I am about to ask you will merit your riches stored here in heaven. So, what other good works have you done while you were on earth?

MM: I think I am a good woman. I am a success because I don't middle in other people's life. Even if inaaway nila ako, I still won't stoop down to my level. I have always lived to my principle, "We are lovers. Not fighters."

SP: What about vices? Do you smoke, drink, gamble, use illegal drugs?

MM: No! They are making issues about me becoming a drug user and pusher! But they are liars! Tingnan nyo nga ako, ang payat-payat ko just because I am a model! no more no less!

SP: (St. Peter's confused.) Would that be all?

MM: I also don't kill animals. I don't eat meat. I'm not a carnival.

SP: Now, before I grant you this one-way ticket to eternal happiness since your name is here in the Book of Life, I have to ask if you have any qualms regarding your untimely death? See, we have been receiving some negative feedback on our surveys, so if you have any grievances, now is the time to say so.

MM: Well, it's not so bad here. I think it is worse-r to end in Hell. I think I will get sunburn-ed there! Hmm...and besides, matagal naman na akong semi-retarded eh.

SP: Final words?

MM: I only have three words to say, "Big Angel is here!"

Monday, November 8, 2010

Of Notes and Octaves

I'm missin' my babies...

This is Mika, my comfort buddy when I'm down and lonely. He needs tuning now, I think.

And this is Louise, the ever so dependent french horn when I feel quirky and all that jazz...
(This picture was taken gazillion years back when I'm still in high school. Hence, the over-sized suit. hehe)

I'll play with 'em soon. I think it's about time to come home.

Of Relationships And The Lack Of It.

People often ask me why I‘ve never been in a relationship. Why I’ve never committed myself into a lasting romantic engagement. Why I’ve never had a “boyfriend”. Let me attempt to encompass in this short narrative the answer I’ve waited 24 years to tell. In a lot of ways, I don’t necessarily think that the answer is complete just yet, but let me share with you what I have so far. Before anything else, let me hazard a disclaimer. My thoughts are mine, share in them as you wish; but if you choose otherwise, no offense will be taken. And vice versa.

A wise person told me once that a person could grow a week in a year or a year in a week. It was always awkward for me being a kid. I always felt that I was older than I really was. I got a long with the older kids; I listened to older music and generally felt I was older than my “body”. Oftentimes I’d wish that I’d sleep at night and then wake up an adult. Kids from broken homes can probably relate. It’s that pressure to “catch up” or to “deal” and adapt to things that make us grow up faster. Meaning to say, that even if I had gone through the normal “kid” stuff like XMEN, Batman, Voltron and The Visionaries, I still felt out of place. Its strange really, because while I enjoyed these “kid” things as a kid, I was conscious that they were for “kids”. Did I loose you yet? I thought so. Basically, I grew up all too fast and was exposed to a lot of things at too early a time in my life…too early. It’s a well-known fact that people reach a point in their lives where they are “awakened” to reality; it’s just a matter of when. Now some would easily translate this to the time they found out that Santa Clause was fake or that the Tooth Fairy was actually mom. Mine was when I found out that not all moms and dads stayed together.

My turning point was when I saw that Love didn’t work out the way the books or the movies said it would. The prince didn’t always rescue the princess, and sometimes the evil witch did win. I realized that Love was actually just a word that people use, it wasn’t magical, it wasn’t special, it was just a word. I realized that some people didn’t even say it all that often. I realized that some people said it a little too often. Love had become a Hallmark card, a popcorn movie, a story and a song. Love was reduced to a commodity. But as the theory says: “for every action, there exists an equal and opposite reaction.” Instead of losing hope in the whole Love thing, I figured that Love must’ve had an unadulterated version of it before we people screwed things up. Love isn’t just Romeo and Juliet, Tom and Katie, Brad and Angelina, Pgie and Regine; I realized that if my picture was limited to Shakespeare, Neruda or even Wong Kar Wai, much less to the most recent love team, then my doubting “love” would turn out true. I didn’t want that to happen. As much as I wanted my doubts about love to be true, I knew in my heart that there was much more to the word than the feelings you get when he looked back. Love was more than the text messages of sweet nothings. Love was more than holding hands or even kissing. Love was more than sex. Love was more than a trial and error effort to find a “match”. I knew that there was more to Love, but still I doubted. I was jaded by the experience of this so-called Love falling short. But I was out to prove my cynicism wrong.

So I made I vow to myself not to drop the L word unless I lived up to its original definition. Reading a lot of things, you more or less get a picture of what different people say about love. I read a lot, but no poet, novelist or even blogger pictured love clearer than this author: “No greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for a friend”. I was never one to spoonfeed so you’ll have to look for the author up yourself. Call me unreal or even preachy…but I couldn’t find a more perfect definition or picture of what Love really is. Then we go to my story. I realized that being in a relationship is no joke. Dealing with your own life, soul and heart is hard enough, bringing another heart into the picture is almost dangerous. Fun, but dangerous. Don’t get me wrong here, I’m all for taking risks, trying adventures and even making mistakes; but I’d want to do that on my own first before I bring another person into the picture. I’ve had my own slew of “things” (not flings), that always almost ended up in a relationship, but as I look back I’m glad it didn’t. Why? Because looking back, my motivation wasn’t Love, it was loins. I wasn’t out to love someone, I was out to satisfy myself. To fill my need. Like a parasite that clings on a nother to feed its own cravings. That wasn’t love, that was just selfish. I could’ve easily fallen into that trap for the sole reason that it was that…easy. Like a game to be played. Except, I almost didn’t realize that this “game” was played with hearts not tokens, with emotions, not toys. Love was, is and will never be a game.

The reason for not being in a relationship is my choice, because I feel that the only time I can actually be in one is when I’m ready to say “I love you”. The only time I’ll be ready is when I’m willing to put my life on the line. The only time I’ll put my life on the line, is when I know that he’s the one for sure. The easiest thing to do nowadays is to commit to something half-heartedly, the hardest thing to do is to withdraw when you realized that it was a mistake. I’m a big fan of Love and Relationships, in fact, I talk about it a lot (too much actually) with my friends, but at the same time I take it seriously. Heart issues are serious issues. If I’m not ready to be in a serious relationship, then why be in one at all? To get the benefits but not work for it? To eat an expensive steak dinner and not pay for it? To get a degree but not study for it? To take the easy way out? I’m not that kind of man. When I love someone, its full throttle. It may take time, and a lot of effort, but I’m willing to take THAT risk. I’d want to be the man that my man deserves; ready to commit, ready to fight and ready to die for him.

Until I’m at that point, I must focus on the fine tuning. When you love someone you want to offer him the best that you have, it may not be perfect, but it’s the best that you have. That’s what I’m working on now. I wouldn’t want to offer him anything half baked. There’s a lot of room to grow, in fact the growing never stops, it wasn’t until now, that I felt grown enough to even begin looking. But recent events have accelerated certain courses. I can’t fully say that I’m ready to drop the L word just yet, but I know that I can begin my real quest. A search that may or may not lead me to “Him” but it’s a search. Dating someone will NOT tell you if you’re ready to Love that person, it will just open up a possibility…but the bottom line is you guard your heart.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Of Gossips and Randomness

Earlier, a friend of mine lived out one of his fantasies when he hooked up with a hot guy he had been admiring for a long time. When they were through, he gathered himself together and said his farewells. As he headed out the door, he added, "This was really fun. You know, if you ever want to do it again, that would be great."
My friend's trick looked up, squinted and responded. "Uh, no," he hemmed. "I'm good."
And there were witnesses.

How do you know if you're going on a date or if it's just two friends who haven't seen each other in a long time getting together for dinner and a movie?
And if you question why that line is blurry to me you have a lot to learn....

Mixing business and friendship -- I hate it.
You have to walk that fine line of trying to be their friend while closing out a business transaction. When it crosses that line of having to take a stronger business line than a friendship line is where I get scared. I hope they realize that I'm not trying to jeopardize the friendship but just complete out on what they promised and to do it in a timely manner.
So I read a book last night and giggled myself silly as I read each haiku. I insist on a sequel.

But I guess this is just more proof that I may be gayer than I originally thought I was...I found the page numbering system of spelling out the words rather than just the number to be kinda cool too...I'm into this whole art direction thing now for some reason. Maybe I'm just nuts....

Anyway...get this book...steal it from's a total treat...
A certain hunk actor, PP, went to Edsa Shang Hotel with a "guy friend" for an overnight stay. Another guy came in, a not-so-well known art director from an advertising agency, and came in as a guest of the PP. Question is, what would you do on an overnight stay in a hotel with two other guys with you? Mind you, the suite has only one queen-size bed.

How the hell did I know? Lo and behold, my sister took the call from PP telling that he'll receive a guest. She's a lobby attendant ^_^

Tsktsk, if you're telling the whole world you're straight as any man can be, then by golly-bejeezus, be discreet and play the part, will you?

That's all.

Back to your daily grind.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Of Flirts and Sexual Temptations

Isn't it so hard to turn away from sexual temptations when it's already laid out in front you?

I can try to flee away from those that make me stumble. I can try to turn a blind eye on those that make me fall. But when it's there in front of me, winking and flirting at me and coaxing me with that nice grin, I just can't help but dumbly follow.

I'm sooo not doing well with self-control lately.
What a great thing to do on a weekday. Sheesh, I'm such a slut.

Where are you, Determination?

Hohumm... sinong free mamaya? (hehehe)


Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Of My Unapologetic, Introverted Self

Since I am bored here at work, let me talk about myself a little bit more...

I consider myself to be a private person to the point of being an introvert. For some people, it may seem impossible that I am introvert considering how talkative I can get and the tendency to perform and be a ham at the drop of the hat. It doesn't help that I have a tendency to push for what I want and speak thought easily. Well, to set the record straight, I took a personality test couple of months back and found out I am an equal balance of both being an introvert and an extrovert. Yes, somewhat, schizophrenic if you ask me.

So anyway, yes I think I am an introvert. Bow. End of this entry..

Seriously though, even talking about it like this makes me uncomfortable. I am private in the sense that I've learned to vent and express my true uncensored and uninhibited thoughts to close friends, family and people I absolutely trust. As much as possible, I try to keep my mouth shut when I see or hear things I don't like or consider dangerous or distasteful. I'd like to think that over the years I have been able to do my own pruning and managed to learn how to conduct myself better among people I have to get along with or must show my good side to in order to live in an unchaste environment. This is of course, is not to say that I have perfected the art of being classy and smart enough to keep my chin up and my nose clean. Life has its snags and there's no way to avoid them.

I write these thoughts because lately things have taken an interesting turn in my life. You know what they say, when the flame is too hot or the fire is on, one can see the true colors of people. The tension and the pressure make for excellent ingredients to getting people into the hot seat, messing up, revealing their true sentiments to others and well, basically, cracking their own codes.

I've been cruising along all this time and simply enjoying what I do. I look myself and realize how much I have learned and experienced, and how much more I want to learn and make out the experience. Time passes when I'm having a good time. For that, I am a lucky duck.

But then of course there are issues that give me bad vibes. Like when people who I sense have a secret hatred or dislike for me. I know I haven't done anything to them but they just seem to resent me. Blame it on anything about me. I have strong features. I'm straightforward and I don't sugarcoat my words as often as they would like me to. I am friendly. My hair is fucked up sometimes. The list could probably go on.

To that I say this: My parents never taught me to apologize for being myself. I was raised to believe myself. I was raised to believe I could be anything and do anything I want as long as I never step on people to get what I want and don't forget to treat people as people. So it follows that they taught me never to feel sorry for being different, for being like this... For being gay.

Perhaps this is where the extrovert in me emerges. Put me in a cab or ask me to talk to janitors and the security guards and chances are, I'll found out more about them than you will. Put me in a room with a president, senators, celebrities, social figures and watch me talk to them like normal individuals who have a lot to share about their experiences. (If you don't know me well and are reading this blog with a raised eyebrow in disbelief, let me tell you, I've been tried and tested.) My family has raised me not to be shy--but to be assertive and articulate. No pa-cute annoying smiles, shrugging of shoulders and fidgeting allowed. No, sir. My dad is very strict about that. When I meet people I say, "Hello, nice to meet you" in a clear crisp voice with a matching handshake if the situation calls for it.

I know I'm not supposed to let these things get to me. In fact, I've been dodging this issue for a few years, months, weeks, days already. For me, it's like a big elephant in the room that no one will talk about(myself included). I know it's there. I sense it. Sometimes it's more powerful than other days. It's an annoying thing that I know I shouldn't have have to lose sleep over or feel guilty about. I am me and they are who they are. And besides, I'm having too much of a good time to be fixated on it.

I guess I just want to write about it now to vent. When it comes to work, I've learned the importance of friends. It's a good thing that despite the things that peeve me, I have managed to make a lot of them. I should probably just keep reminding myself not to expect too much of those friendships. If by some of stroke of luck, I find friends for life, then well good. If not, who's to say I didn't give it a chance?

I'm not, and I won't be sorry for my gracious self.

Of Physical Attractions and Intellectual Stimulations

A recent lengthy conversation with a good friend of mine had brought some questions to mind. Both of us often engage in long chats because we watch the same movies, like the same series and reality shows and meet at a certain level of commonality.
And that made me shift to my "love-doctor" mode and ask, would it be better to be physically attracted to a person of the opposite same sex or be intellectually compatible with him?
... and we're amazed by the fact that I'm not even thinkin' about SEX. gaaah!
He told me, "sure, if you get both, then DON'T LET HIM GO! But if you have to choose between the two, which one priority would outweigh the other?"

For certain, being physically attracted to a person can bring you goosebumps, cheesy smiles, touchy-feelies and all that butterflies whenever you're around him. But then, having that same intellectual wavelength can keep you entertained, fascinated and growing in knowledge even for hours and hours with just sitting, talking and sharing thoughts with that person.
If I were to choose between the two extremes, I honestly wouldn't know which one to choose either. Would I go for the trophy guy that I can parade to my friends or would I rather have someone to actually converse with during dinner?
Well, I could say it's not the outside but rather the inside, or what's "up there" that counts. But let's all cut the crap and admit it, even though we can claim that "LOOKS doesn't matter," it does...even to the littlest extent. (Who'd want to be with someone they can't even look at? Forgive that moment of harshness.)
I would end this entry to leave you with some brain candy to last you awhile, and get back to me with your thoughts, alright? As for me, well tonight just before drifting off to my own planet, I'll just have to pray to God and beg him to give me someone who'd fit right in between. *wink*

Monday, November 1, 2010

Of Needs and Wants (In anticipation of a new love, whoever that may be..)

I want you to fall for me so hard, that you become scared to lose me. I want you to dwell in my existence; where a day without me would feel incomplete. I want you to fall as hard for me, as I’ll fall for you. I want you to remember me always, and I want you to chase after me when I push you away. I want you to pull me back when I’m trying to leave. I want to feel the reflexes of my own words. I want you to keep me grounded when I’ve done wrong. I want you to be relentless. I don’t want any constrictions in my chest, but the bones that shapes our interest. I want you to fall so hard for me, that you realize you’ve never even felt this way about someone before. And if I left, I would want every thing we ever shared to make you remember me. I want all the things we did, said, and never got to; to make you remember me by. I want to know you’ll fall so hard for me that if a song we shared came up on the radio; it would make you have this sudden sharp pain in your chest. And in those fleeting seconds, I hope you know how much you fell in love with me and how you can’t live without me. I hope then, you’ll come chasing after me. It’s selfish I know, but I want to be the only guy you have your eyes on. I want to be the only guy you actually fell for. I actually want to be the guy you end up with. I want to know you’ll fight for me.

Of Writing and Purpose

Just another unknown out of millions letting out everything i can't. I guess here is where everything that I'm so unsure of goes as well as anything I so happen to stumble upon. Just maelstrom of thoughts and emotions, a bit of mindless writing, and a dash of nonsensical feelings.

You’ll find poems, short stories, shorter stories, longer stories, articles and things I think are cool here. They will probably be dark, quirky and weird, and I think you’ll like it.

I decided to use this page as an introduction to my writings. I write about many different subjects. But all of those things, usually have to do with a feeling, or something happened recently, that I cannot get off my mind. Emotionality plays a big role on my virtual stage, I use things that I find saddening or happy to pull at a reader's eye, to draw them in, and not let them go. I also try to make my posts, or anything I write about, applicable to something in life. Love, relationships, forgiveness, regrets. All of these things find a place in my writing, they enter and exit as would a breeze, but they all manage to find their way on the front page, time and time again. I don’t know how much anyone cares about what I think, but I do like to write. So if someone does actually like this, thank you for reading, and keep reading. I will try and pique your curiosity on a daily basis, or as frequently as I can.