The Taglibog Saga (Chapter Two)

"So Dark Ages mo na ulit?"

Ito ang reaction ni Dodong nang malaman niyang split na kami ni Raizen. Si Dodong ang isa sa mga una kong ka-tropang PLU, at sa loob ng mahabang panahon na kami ay magkaibigan ay alam na niya ang istorya ng buhay ko.

At tama nga ang kanyang agam-agam. Wala pang tatlong linggo ay balik na naman ako sa dating diskarte. Tambayan ko ulit ang Malate at doon ay nilabas ko ang lahat ng angas at libog na inipon ko sa loob ng buong linggo. Uso noon ang mga Dark Rooms. Ito ay isang madilim na bahagi ng isang bar kung saan malayang nakakapagparaos ang mga clubbers kasama ang kanilang napiling partner. Wala pa naman akong nakitang nagkangkangan sa loob ng masikip at napakainit na lugar na iyon, pero ang blowjob, magsasawa ka talaga.

Doon ko nasaksihan kung paano nagpapalit-palit ng bibig ang burat ng isang binata sa sampung lalaking nagtake-turns sa pagroromansa sa kanya. Sa Dark Room ko rin naranasan magsenti sa bar counter. Bangag ako ng umagang yun, nakaupo at nakatingin sa bintana para abangan ang pagsikat ng araw habang lahat naman sa aking paligid ay umuungol, kumakadyot at nagmumura habang nilalabasan sa sahig (o sa bibig ng kanilang partner) ng semilya. Yung katabi ko naman ay panay ang lamas sa aking katawan. Gusto yatang maka-iskor pero hindi ko ito pinatulan. Lumabas ako ng bar na tuod at tila wala sa sarili. Shit, ganun pala ang pakiramdam makakita ng walang habas na babuyan.

Naroon rin ang #salsalan sa MIRc. Tambay rin ako ng chatroom tuwing walang magawa sa bahay. Madalas ay naghahamon lang naman ako ng away sa ibang chatters o kaya naman ay nangkukupal ng mga ads para sa SEB sa main room. Paano kasi ay walang nag-uusap. Lahat ay naghahanap ng sex. Minsan sa sobrang buraot ay nang-gago ako ng ad ng isang chatter. Hindi ko na matandaan kung ano ang ad niya, pero tandang-tanda ko na pinagkalat kong apat na pulgada lang ang kanyang ari.

Kahit hindi pa naman kami nagkikita.

Malimit ay nagpapalit ako ng chat handle para lang mag-ingay sa main channel. Sa halip na kalibog-libog na nickname ang aking gamit, nagiging taonggoy o kaya naman ay boyburnek ang pangalan ko. Sa loob ng isang oras at mahigit, puros flooding ng ads sa paghahanap ng lakatan, kuto o kaya naman ay saging na saba ang nababasa ng mga ibang chatters mula sa akin.

Ako rin lang ang chatter dun na nagsabing nilalabasan ng tamod na kulay green o kaya blue o kung minsan naman ay rainbow colors para lang magpapansin sa iba.

Naging adik man ang mga hirit ko sa #salsalan ngunit ang kapalit naman ay ilang mga kasama na hindi ko tinalo sa chatroom. Naroon kami bilang tambay at ang gawain lang namin ay mangkupal ng mga chatter na naghahanap ng SEB. Kung sumasapit naman ang mga pagkakataon na talagang naghahanap ako ng aksyon, mas mabilis pa sa alas kuwatro kung ako ay makipagkasunduan sa ibang tao.

me: Place mo pare?
malibog-na-chatter: Dito sa Vito Cruz.
me: San sa Vito Cruz?
malibog-na-chatter: Malapit sa AKIC
me: Tara trip tayo!

Hindi pa uso ang trade pictures kaya't maaring idaan sa stats ang deal or no deal. Sa buong buwan ng Marso at Abril ay naranasan ko makipag-trip sa isang abandonadong apartment sa may San Andres Bukid; Sa katabing-bahay ng barkada ko noong high school sa Hulo; at sa isang tripper malapit sa Legarda bago pumasok sa trabaho. Ayus nga eh, may partner siya noon at wala daw siyang pakielam kahit mahuli pa kaming dalawa na may ginagawang himala. Naranasan ko rin dumayo ng Pateros galing Project 6 isang madaling araw ng lasing upang maulit lang ang pagniniig namin ng lalaking sumalo sa akin sa Mister Piggy's. Siya ang nag-uwi sa akin noong mag-away kami ni Raizen sa ikalawang pagkakataon.

Sa sandaling panahon ay nasulit ko ang pagiging pakawalang malaya. Subalit nakakapagod rin pala ang paulit-ulit at walang sense na pakikipag-sex sa iba't ibang tao. Wala man sa lima ang score ko sa loob ng dalawang buwan ngunit madali rin akong napagod sa mundong pinasok ko. Kaya't nang may nagpakita sa akin ng interes mga anim na taon na ang nakalipas, mabilis ko rin itong sineryoso.

At gaya ng nauna sa kanya, ang aming unang pagtatagpo ay nauwi sa motel at matapos ang isang linggo,

kaming dalawa na.

---

-tobecontinued-

Sapi

Nitong mga nakaraang linggo, sa ganito nauuwi ang inuman ng mga Encanto:

Clubber's Guide, Nakpil, Malate

"Pukingina men, bakit wala sa Che'Lu nito?!?"

Nakangisi lang ang aking utol habang abalang nanonood ng sumasayaw sa aming harapan.

Natapos ang gabi na wala akong ginawang milagro. Kung mayroon man ay si Lukayo na lang ang saksi roon.

Inintay kong sumakay ng taxi ang mag-irog, samantalang ako naman ay naglakad patungo sa aking teritoryo na walang isang dipa ang layo mula sa aming pinanggalingan nang:

"Joms, joms, joms,"

Patay na! Nakorner ako ng mga shofatid!

Ang night out na sana ay matatapos ng alas-dos ay tumagal hanggang alas singko. Dala ng pagkalasing, pagkalibog at marahil ang pinagsanib puwersang playback ng mga naggagandahang babaeng gumigiling sa aming harapan sa unang bar na aming pinasok, sa ganito ako naglabas ng samang-loob:

Siyempre, talbog si Britney sa galing kong kumadyot sa pole. Malibog yata to!

Yep, it was the first time I mounted the ledge at BED and did a pole dancing in front of the crowd. I don't care how shameless and slutty my actions were, I just wish that

Nobody who knew me saw how I shook my booty up there.

The Chickboy Strain

This is what really happened last night.

---

[09:35] Centurion: proud daw ang princesa
[09:35] Centurion: hehehe
[09:36] Centurion: well.. ngayon ka lang niya kasi nakitang ganun...
[09:36] Centurion: ako twice na kitang nakita
[09:36] MuGen: alam mo ba kung ano ang nangyari talaga?
[09:36] Centurion: nangyari na?
[09:37] MuGen: kagabi
[09:37] MuGen: paano nauwi sakin yung chick
[09:37] Centurion: pano nga ba?
[09:37] Centurion: nag cr ako
[09:37] MuGen: yung babae kasi
[09:37] MuGen: lasing na nung abutan natin
[09:37] Centurion: pag balik ko may kalingkisan ka na na chick
[09:37] MuGen: kung kani-kanino dumidikit
[09:37] MuGen: nung una dumikit na siya sa akin
[09:37] MuGen: tingin kaagad ako kay lukayo
[09:37] MuGen: haha kasi kinabahan ako
[09:37] MuGen: tapos nawala yung babae
[09:37] MuGen: lumingkis sa iba
[09:38] MuGen: eh yung mga tangang straight
[09:38] MuGen: hindi marunong umantabay sa chick
[09:38] MuGen: kapag nabubuwal hinahayaan
[09:38] MuGen: hayun, nung tutumba siya nasalo ko kaagad ang siko
[09:38] MuGen: napansin niya, ngumiti sa akin
[09:38] MuGen: hindi ko namalayan
[09:38] Centurion: in fairness joms.. panalo ang ang beauty niya..
[09:38] MuGen: nakasandal na siya sa katawan ko

---

Second to straight-acting men, it is the ladies I hit on whenever I find myself on the dance floor. I cannot resist getting aroused whenever I see curvy hips sway and real boobs bounce to the sound of house music.

The spectacle witnessed by Encantadia at Guillys is just one of the shameless display of lewdness I do whenever I loosen my inhibitions because of the music and alcohol. It was the sexy chick who came to dance with me and had there been no eyes watching us, (especially the girl's best friend) my moves could have been more aggressive. I remember the last time I did swing with a girl by telling her all the sweet nothings I could come up with, I ended up making out - tongue slurping, spit swapping, and cock-boob squeezing - with this fag hag despite being surrounded by gay men inside a bar in Malate.

I bet their eyes were all telling me "kadire" and "ipokrito."

But its just me. The flirting wasn't intentional, I'm just good at making bola.

And despite my tendencies to pull a trick like what Darwin and the rest of the gang have seen last night. I stay faithful to my leanings.

No, I'm not bisexual.


I don't see myself enjoying the mount and hump part when the trick extends up to bed.

---

And when I do end up with a chick in bed. Lemme see, I'll let her take it from behind.

Slipping Malate

It's been a day and a night after some intruding hand had snatched it from my gaping side pocket, but the events that lead to its lost still replays at the back of my head. It could have been averted, had I not lulled my senses with three bottles of Red Horse Beer. However, done is the deed that could make me stop the madness.

Deliverance has revealed the exit from the dark, suffocating and sweaty grounds of the dance floor.

---

Past midnight. Encantadia left Trinoma after a night of stories and jokes passed around the table. The Kondesa finally met the Dukesa - the two gentlemen who became the significant others of the ones belonging to the original five. Their introduction was a pleasant experience. Both guys found a stronger connection to the group. I missed the Dukesa after months of not being able to see him. His presence last night reminded me how his partner, Tagay, had matured and how the friendship among the three of us had grown.

My Gimik Pass for the week hasn't been used yet and I was planning to take advantage of the weekend to sneak into the dancing grounds of Che'Lu. It was a Sunday morning and I am most certain that the place would be packed with gay men. Bored and restless, I instructed the cab to drive me to Malate. The night was young, and I'd like to spend it doing something fun.

Che'lu was indeed packed that night, unfortunately, it wasn't the crowd I was looking for. Gone are the nights when straight-acting strangers would trade glances and smile at you. In their place were kids - lanky, snooty, and broken-armed twinks huddled in groups which included their loud and boisterous fag hags. I felt out of place, really, and to forget how solitary my spot was in the order of things, to satiate myself with beer was the only solution I had in mind.

First Red Horse Bottle.

I scoured the dance floor for a challenger. Even with barely 2 hours of sleep, my mind was in the mood to grind and bend my body. I bumped into several boys worthy as an adversary, however, they haven't seen through my provocations. They were busy tapping, shoving and mingling with their friends instead of looking for some action.

It might be possible also, that my mojo isn't with me that night. I left it in dreamland somehow.

Second Red Horse Bottle.

It was past 1 in the morning. The crowd was getting rowdier and the dance floor had become a watering hall for fairies. I should have gone to the bath houses instead, if it was action I really sought. Maybe the tiled chambers offered more options to meet the guys I sought. But to fuck wasn't really my plan. Besides, it's been more than a year since I entered its naked halls. It was enough that I get attention from strangers and hunt down potential preys that could serve as a distraction until I decide to settle for the one.

Tipsy and on the verge of passing out. I wrapped my big arms around a catatonic kid's lean frame. He never showed any response. He might have not noticed my groping at all.

Third Red Horse Bottle

I stood at a corner mustering whatever strength and degree of control I could impose on my senses. Being there on a sleepless, intoxicated night wasn't really a good idea. I should have headed straight home instead. As I was about to leave and accept my defeat for not getting a worthy partner during my stay, I noticed this particular stocky guy dancing in front of me. He wasn't really my type, but the way he danced provoked me.

The guy appeared to be an interesting target.

I positioned myself in front of him and pretended to follow his bouncy moves. He sensed my approach and began brushing off his fingers against mine. The fish caught my bait and within seconds our sweaty bodies found themselves merging and becoming one. He was a good partner for bending my will and forcing me to accept his dominance. Unlike the previous ones who would cautiously test the waters, he was an outright aggressor. It never felt this good letting a stranger have a total control over the way I moved.

For that alone, I shoved my back against his groin and let him thrust himself until he got tired. Talk about doing a frottage on a club. Four house tracks, several make-out moments, and two discreet sliding-of-one's-hand-inside-someone-else's-jeans and I felt like a slut.

During a break, he asked for my number. Since I wasn't interested to prolong our contact I gave him a wrong one instead. Good thing, he did not insist that I get his number as well.

---

It was already getting late and I have work the following morning. It's time to go home.

Feeling the contents of my pockets, something appeared missing. The lost triggered the alarm. I tried frisking my pockets again and it wasn't there. I was hoodwinked, maybe, by the same person who broke down my defenses. There was a moment of shock and panic, but experience tells that there was no use turning the place around for a stolen phone.

To accept the lost was the only course of action. I returned to my dance partner and hugged him for one last time. He sympathized for my lost and tried to console me the best way he could. Meanwhile my hands were everywhere, frisking his pockets.

He didn't have my phone.

Though he may be responsible for its lost, to achieve the deed required accomplices. However, I had no proofs to support my assumptions so I let things be and charged everything to experience.

I left the bar distraught over losing my phone. It might have been acquired through a friend's generosity, but there is no doubt that its lost speak about the way I take care of things.

And how easy it was for me to accept their passing.

With nothing else to do, (despite finally winning the attention and caresses of the guy I've been exchanging smiles and glances since the boyfriend days) I slipped out of Malate as obscurely as I arrived.

---


The phone has been replaced (and charged to my credit card) Please introduce yourself when you send me a text message. Thank you.

Atmospheric Reentry

To get the attention of someone
considered to be the shining jewel
of the club is the ultimate
ego trip you could have.




Until you realize that
everything becomes worthless
when this someone actually gets you.

---

I could have turned my gaze elsewhere and leave you basking in your five minutes of fame. The skinny long-haired lady next to us is already responding to my provocations long before you came to the ledge. However, my inner nature told me to stay. I cannot deny that I longed for you just like you secretly longed for me. With no words able to describe our feelings, I understood that despite your outer toughness, you sought someone who could match your ruggedness. Others will have their turns touching your body, but I am the only one capable of feeling your soul. As you leaned on my arms while trying to bend your body, I knew that you sought someone who can make you feel secured right at your most vulnerable moment.

Discreet
June 29, 2008

The Comeback

Just maybe,
the reason why
I still insist on my
alone time
and travel across the
sleeping city
to that spot
at the corner of
Nakpil and Orosa
is to find someone
I could lean my head into.

Still it feels good
knowing you can bare your
weakness to someone

a stranger,
who appears

stronger than you.

A Perfect Circle

Threw you the obvious
And you flew with it on your back
A name in your recollection
Down among a million same

It was the closing of September when your eyes first met. At the corner of Orosa and Nakpil in Malate, he entered the bar brokenhearted and yearning to free himself from an attachment which is nearing its end. Across the dance floor, guzzling your Red Horse Beer, he saw you amongst the beautiful men who made passes at him. It was your small, smiling eyes that captivated him. It was your goatie that caught his attention.

You noticed his glances and acknowledged it with a faint smile. Like a shard of metal slowly getting drawn to a magnet, he moved closer wishing that the attraction was the same. Barely five minutes after he arrived, both of you were already in the corner biting each others lips and feeling each other's tongue unmindful of the guests who were probably disgusted by your shameless display of affection .

Difficult not to feel a little bit
Disappointed and passed over
When I look right through,
See you naked but oblivious

Your make out ended in a motel somewhere near Quirino. It was a one-night stand he would never forget. He can still feel your slim body rubbing against his chest and your thick facial hair still brushes his back whenever he imagines of you. You were a hard kisser. His lips were left swollen for days after your intimacy happened. You were a pinner in bed. Had he surrendered to your aggression, he would have received a hard impalement from you that morning.

You were a good cuddler. In your lean arms he felt safe. Between the orgasms, you shared your dreams to his thirsty ears. You made him see new worlds he yearns to find himself in. Believing that your encounter would just last a night, it was a tell-all revelation: That you were a student of law; that you were a high government official at the tender age of 27; that you were someone who made a name and will always be proud to tell it even to those you will cross in bed. Bruised from pincer attacks he received that day, he lowered his defenses for you to peek into his soul. He thought that there was a connection even when your affection was meant to last for just one encounter.

A hug, a last kiss and it was all goodbye. You parted ways without looking at each other's eyes. In two days you will be returning to your home in Bacolod. He resigned to the fact that you will never see each other again.

But I threw you the obvious
Just to see if there's more behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel,
Eyes of a tragedy

Eve of the New Year, restless and seeking for temporal affection, he returned to the same bar only to find you again. Standing next to the ledge, your eyes met. Pleasantries were exchanged and your smiling eyes once again drew him next to you. Unfortunately, things were different this time. Emancipated from all romantic involvements, he stuck with you hoping to resurrect a long dead past.

Revelers passed, admirers checked out. But despite the choices he could pick, he chose to remain with you.

Here I am expecting just a little bit
Too much from the wounded
But I see, see through it all
See through, see you

Hands clasped, he thought you still remember your connection. In his desperation to seek assurance, it was your presence that made him seek no more. "Why would I search for another and let them barge into my locked doors," He told himself. "You are already here and you have seen everything that I keep within."

As the night wore on while God played his music, he noticed that your eyes surveyed all directions. You were looking for someone and he felt your slow disconnection. "Maybe you are with another person," he hesitantly admits to himself. "Perhaps your lover is here and I am just a spare tire you want keep until your company shows up to reclaim you before the dance is over."

'Cause I threw you the obvious
To see what occurs behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel,
Eyes of a tragedy

Past four in the morning, you thought he already left. He bid farewell when he felt the icy chill occupying the space between you. But behind the veil of smoke; of the spectacular laser lights that pointed on everyone's sweaty body; and the booming bass sound from the huge speakers that made the packed club bounce to Rihanna's music, he secretly stayed behind to pick up what is left after dropping him for another. As he looked for a replacement - of someone he could show just to tell in your face that you're not a loss, it was still your image that occupied his thoughts.

Had you told him earlier you were already with someone, it would be easier to accept things as they were.

You brushed each other's elbow for the last time in the near-empty dance floor just as when he was about to exit the club. Around you were couples making out and a handful of revelers pushing each other to the ones they want to get introduced.

"Happy.New.Year.dude." He said in a slurry voice

"We will see each other again. Goodbye." Your eyes, which once captured his lonely gazes on a fiery September night was now pointing at the other direction.

- towards the friends you introduced, which he deliberately ignored just to stake his claim over you.

"It was truly over," he insisted to himself.

You found somebody else.

You don't, you don't
You don't see me

You don't see me

You don't, you don't
You don't see me at all

---

- Three Libras, A Perfect Circle

Another Moment In Paradise (First Part)

Malate is a place where dreams are made and where fairy tales do not end with happy endings. It is a place of refuge for those who mend a broken heart or a shattered soul by lathering their throats with beer and partying the night away with house music until the sound numbs weary ears and the dancing drains energy from exhausted feet. Malate is a home for those who wishes to forget and for those trying to escape the agony of living a suspended life. Yet, despite the sorrowful stories that come out of that place, Malate is still full of promises. Amidst the teeming mass of lonely gay people dancing aimlessly at the center of the dance floor, there are moments when fate intervenes and connects two people who share a common longing.

And perhaps even a common dream.

That promise is what keeps people like me to return over and over to Malate. Even if there are no assurances of a happy ending after the night is over, the thought of a stranger making you feel complete is what makes the whole endeavor worth doing.

I went out last night after a week's absence in the club scene. The choices are tough for I already exhausted myself in the gym that evening and the feeling of weariness is enough reason to go home. However, the lingering thought of an ex-boyfriend suddenly knocking at your door and asking the maid if he could sleep over crept like some terminal fear that drove me to the smoke-filled hall of Che'lu. Running away instead of confronting a hanging issue proved more feasible for someone as broken as me.

Nothing has changed at Che'lu when I entered the bar. The same beautiful people lined its narrow corridor leading to the dance floor. The same effeminate twinks danced on the ledge with their smooth and lean naked bodies and with a plastered smile fit for glossy magazines. The same old house tracks were being played by the DJ. I could say that the scene was getting boring and for several occasions I contemplated whether my age of rage is finally over. You see, serenity dawned to me after the separation and the frustration I expressed through dancing wasn't there anymore.

I was expecting a boring night, which I planned to cut short by 2 am. However, it seems like someone had other plans for me last night. As I moved my body slightly to make it appear that I was dancing, I noticed this tall guy beside me. He looked Caucasian judging from his Surfer haircut and strong jawbone alone. He looked grungie and danced like he owned half of the dance floor. Tipsy, he would move from one side of the floor to the other. He would brush my right arm for support when he crosses in front of me. I never took his brushing as a move to get my attention. However, when our body contact became more frequent, I got what he hinted all along:

He wanted to dance with me.

I granted his invitation with much hesitation at the back of my head. I knew that I could never match his moves and I had an idea where it would lead to - bed. Had the dancing happened when I was still taken, it would have been easy to draw the line that separates emotion from lust. Now that I'm single, things are different. I could do whatever I wish to do.

At the price only my heart would pay.

What made me change my mind was his near-perfect smile. He was far cuter than I initially assumed and his smile blew away all traces of grumpiness that I felt the whole day. His bawdy dancing revealed a very drunken state and whenever I held his arms firmly, (every time he was about to fall) I felt his need for companion, for the night has been hard on him.

"Lasing ka na ah, nakailang bote ka na ba?" I asked.

He just smiled and raised his hand to show his four fingers.

Our dance continued without uttering a single word. Like the other dance partners I had before, there is solace in silence. It's like no matter how the music beats pounded our ears, the unspoken connection between us is what makes our bond secure. The bodily movements were never really important. It is the presence of the other that matters.

"This is the first time I've been here," he finally confessed while Janet Jackson's Feedback blared on the stereo.

"Talaga? What brought you to this place?"

"I just broke up with my ex." He said.

"When?"

"Three weeks ago." His face turned gloomy.

"Lemme guess, you broke up last October 1?"

He never uttered a single word. Instead, he leaned his head on my shoulders. Something tells me that our encounter was a serendipity. Who would have thought that I would meet someone who broke up at the same time I quit my five-year relationship. This was indeed something and our revelations lead us closer to each other.

The music played on while intimacy began to settle in. He was a very aggressive make-out partner. He would gently bite my neck, nibble my ears and still won't give me a chance to return the favor. When he would kiss me in the lips, he would grab my neck then passionately run his lips into mine. No wonder, I fought back with much passion that he would later say.

"Tangina men, ang galing mo humalik."

Much as I would like to stay and look after him (and his bag which he left somewhere near the ledge) time was against us. I already spent my gimmick pass last Friday and what kept me out last night was a "work" excuse at home.

"I thought you're gonna bring me home." He said frowning. Gotcha! My hunch was right all along, this affair would end up in bed if I don't hold back my defenses.

"But I have work at 4 am."

"Ganun? Sige na nga samahan mo lang ako magyosi sa labas. Sabay na tayo umuwi."

I agreed to extend my stay so I'd get to know more the only dance partner I had for the night. It was never my habit to switch partners like others do on the floor. Instead, when I find someone who's worth keeping, I'd stick to that person as long as he wants my company.

We went to a nearby stand since he had one stick left. The whole time we were together, I never looked at his face. The reason was simple, I find him too attractive that I felt that my presence wasn't worthy. Besides, the "market insecurities" that I raised a few weeks ago is something I still need to address. I know he was drunk and he blabbers things that probably he never meant at all. However, when he told me these words,

"Ngayon ko lang narealize ang cute mo pala."

It was as if my stock market rallied to an all time high, financial analysts would claim that I am out of recession.

We walked towards Nakpil to hail him a cab. We still talked about little things that we find interesting. His affirmation brought back my confidence that I started talking to him in equal terms. He might be three years older, but I certainly know that we might have something in common other than our prowess in bed.

"Hey can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?" He replied while putting on his aviator sunglasses.

"What music do you listen to?"

"Hmmm... Alternative and Slow Rock. Ikaw?"

"Seriously?!?"

"Yeah why?" He asked back.

"Listen to this."

I took out my iPod player and let him listen to a track that only few guys know. It's an Our Lady Peace song that I really love. A long time ago, I was so in love with that song that I swore that if anyone digs it the way I do, I'd give myself up because I've learned from my failed relationships how similarity in interests strengthen the bond between two people.

He listened to the song for a few minutes.

"OMG, we really have something in common. Isayaw natin ito men"

At the corner of Nakpil and Orosa streets, he hugged me tight despite the throngs of people around us. They're all gay alright, but at that moment, I felt that I've finally met the man I've been searching all this time.

The plan to go home at 2 am was aborted. I decided to stay with him, have another drink and dance at Chelu like our lifetime only last for one night.

---

Turned on the radio, to find you on satellite
I'm waiting for the sky to fall
I'm waiting for a sign
Though we are
It's all so far
You're falling back to me
The star that I can see yeah
I know you're out there, somewhere out there

- Somewhere Out There, Our Lady Peace

-tobecontinued-

Sunrise Over Malate

Your sunshiny presence
was a speck of light in that most
deceitful of the night.

- Ode to Mister B and Benchboy from Odders who found themselves in the same dancing ground that night which lead me to write about this entry.

---

Malate is a place where dreams are made and where fairy tales do not end with a happily ever after. It is a place of refuge for those who mend a broken heart or a shattered soul by lathering their throats with beer and partying the night away with house music until the sound numbs weary ears and the dancing drains energy from exhausted feet. Malate is a home for those who wishes to forget. And for those trying to escape the agony of living a double life. It is a place where anyone can be what they want without fear of being rejected or ridiculed by a world who sees their existence as a threatening infestation to mankind.

And for the third straight week, Malate has been a place of sanctuary. The thought of its glitzy, sweaty dancing floors enabled me to hold myself together and go through life by looking forward to the night-out the following week. When my emotions get assaulted by my own artificiality, a trip to Che'lu will remind me of the joys of feeling something real. Ironic, isn't it? The flirting which always happen over there re-assures that no matter how I get crushed over and over, my dignity remains intact.

Someone will get swayed by my false pride.

The popoy with the masseur was over and instead of going to his next client, he decided to spend the night with me. For both of us, the temptations of forgetting was much stronger than the call of reality. Having fun and instead of thinking the troubles that lie ahead sounds more appealing as an end for a turbulent month that was about to pass. However, the bond I placed after we did it was too strong to be broken in one night. For the first time, someone's presence became an inhibition for me to follow my usual activities in that said place.

He said many things about his life there. Like me, he is a hardcore clubber who sometimes rely on drugs given by friends and admirers to get him into the groove. I told him that I don't need drugs to get high with music. Aside from being too expensive, I've learned from years of hitting dance floors to let the music lead my body.

It's like being possessed by hard beats as the sound entrances my smoke-filled head.

One difference that sets the two of us apart is that while he kept friends who were regular club goers, I prefer to party without any company. It has always been me all these years. Besides, impressions tell that it's better to get wild when an acquaintance is not present than to impose modesty or risk getting being talked about by those who were shocked by my occasional excesses in the dance floor.

True to his claims of being well-connected, the masseur, who I will call John for this entry immediately went to this cute twink the moment we set foot inside Che'lu. If you're wondering, he paid for his own entrance. Graciousness is not my middle name. They stood there next to the ledge, groping and hugging one another. I sensed that there was something in them by mere observing their closeness and true to my speculations, he later confessed that the twink was a sex partner he met in the club before.

"Grabe, kung titingnan mo ang liit ng batang yan pero putcha ang laki naman ng burat!" He whispered while guzzling his first bottle of San Mig Light. As if I really cared. There was no doubt that the kid was cute, but I'd rather pick a brute that had an average appeal than to settle down with a lanky who would most likely run away or blabber in a fistfight.

Despite my uneasy feelings toward the twink, I noticed that John was obviously obsessed with him. The kid made strong resistance to his aggressive passes so poor John had to move on seeking a new prey. Meanwhile, I saw two effeminate men eyeing on me. I'm with someone, so I just let them stare while I followed John around acting like his escort.

"Tara tanggal tayo ng damit!" He dared when we found ourselves in the middle of the dance floor again.

"Sigurado ka ha? Masyadong maaga pa dude." I said smiling. He was insistent to show off and thus, I was forced to follow him. We took off our shirts and he mounted the ledge when the DJ changed the music. While my companion danced on the ledge, I waddled across the sea of gay people hoping to get a spot on the other ledge across from where he was dancing.

He was not the only one who can have a piece of the spotlight.

---


The night wore on and John, visibly intoxicated after downing a couple of beers swaggered around like he was the alpha male on the dance floor. The three Red Horses that I gulped in successsion did not even had an effect on me. Sobriety had a price and mine was the total renunciation of the right to flirt around. Instead of hounding for cute guys, I followed John wherever he went. At times, serving as his anchor when the raging sea of revelers threatened to toss him around.

My companion had a lot of friends and admirers who greeted him left and right. Though most of them were effeminate twinks, I could not help but feel out of place when I get introduced to them. Had it been a solo-flight night-out, I wouldn't have to torment myself acknowledging people I'm not interested to meet. If I didn't resolve to stick with John, probably I would be dancing with someone who's the one following me instead.

"Pare labas lang ako sandali." I nodded to grant him permission.

As John made his way towards the exit, a midget lady went in front of me. The sounds blasting from the speakers suspended over our heads was getting more upbeat and girl hinted that she wanted to dance. I accepted her subtle invitation by moving closer. With our groins just few inches away from colliding, I went down on my dance partner who was shaking her hips with machine-like execution. With my hands firmly placed on her legs, it was the most excruciating leg bending I have to do. Not only did my butt hurts, but the pushing around by a crowd rushing to leave the dance floor for a beer break meant that I have to keep my balance steady or else I might crush my partner dancing in front of me. The girl, who never had to worry being pushed around had a wonderful time grinding and twisting her body against mine. There were times, I had to extend my arms and create a cage around her so people would not trample her.

Exhausted from the back-breaking dance, the girl took a break and returned to her table while I was left standing alone on the dance floor. Then I remembered John who went outside earlier. Probably he was talking to a friend or maybe, flirting around with another twink. To show up might turn away his prospective partners. However, I realized that ever since we went to the club, I never saw him openly soliciting the attention of others.

I went out and found him in front of O-Bar. He was talking to a thin guy in a manner that would suggest that they were colleagues in the profession. After the guy left, I went beside him to check if he was alright. He gave a reserved smile and invited me to sit on one of the unoccupied chairs outside the bar. Visibly exhausted, I decided to stay and keep him company.

"Mukhang inaantok ka na ah." His eyes were shut as he yawned beside me.

"Hindi. Okay pa ako."

"Okay lang ba tol na nakabuntot ako sayo. Sabihin mo lang kung pasira ako sa diskarte mo ha?"

"Ayus nga yun eh, hindi mo ako iniiwan."

"Heto ang first time na naging responsible ako sa isang tao dito sa bar" I confessed, smiling.

He returned my confession with a smile and leaned his legs next to mine. With our relationship hitting off the bar. He told me the story of the lean guy he was talking to earlier. The guy was also a masseur who used to be under his care when he stayed in Davao for several months. He managed several boys who called him kuya. It was his job to give them clients that would sustain their operations in that city. What worried him is that his collegue had become thinner after several months of not seeing him.

"Baka naman laging nalilipasan ng gutom?"

He never reacted to my punchline.

It was almost four in the morning. As we sat outside Che'lu, the crowd in front of us began to disperse by walking towards J.Nakpil. I tried to gaze into his sleepy eyes who were fixed into the brightly lit horizon. It was my hope that I could get invited back to his place. Now that I am able to see the bigger picture, maybe the reason why I decided to stick with him despite the many potential affairs that night was my desire to close the deal with a fuck that I can consider something more real.

However, signs tell that he wanted someone - anyone other than me.

We returned inside for a last dance. This time, he was intent to go all the way by mounting the ledge again with his shirt already tucked on his pants. ow that I have the permission to follow him around, I mounted the ledge where he danced and stood just behind him trying to follow his groove. As he impressed everyone below with his ability to translate the music into bodily movements, I watched closely, sometimes rubbing my naked chest against his back so that his sweat would be mine. One audience who was obviously drunk went up to dance with John. His hands groped not only my partner's torso but also his friend's who danced beside us. Annoyed at the thought of being violated, John turned around to face me. The timing was so perfect for after nobody took the bastard seriously, he pulled his pants down exposing his bulging tummy and his black bikini brief to the "ewwws" of everyone. As for John, his vision was blocked by my broad shoulders and we danced face to face until the drunk guy was pulled down by an embarassed friend.

John ordered two more bottles of booze on our return and walked naked around the floor to flirt with the crowd. The guys who caught his attention were mostly skinny effeminates. It was the trannies and the girls who befriended me that night. As John flirted with these young men, my hands cupped his right pocket to protect his cellphone from potential snatchers. They proliferated among the revelers and that night alone, I believe that two went home without a phone in their hand. Meanwhile, John's response was favorable, for as my hand secured itself above his leg, he placed his hand on top of mine.

"I'm checking your cellphone. Don't worry, it's just my hand."

Those moments were the closest thing I could ever claim to be our bond.

Daybreak came to Malate but with my partner still charged up, I had no choice but to stay in Che'lu's sweaty dance floor and wait for him to call it a night. Everyone who was left inside was scrambling to find a partner they can flirt, and possibly bring home for breakfast. One of those who finally caught up with John was a guy I tripped long before I met my him. Had it not for trip's friend whom I made out last week, he was the one I was rooting to get intimate with the last time our eyes met.

Wasted, John approached him and his twink friend who was dancing right next to the ledge. Meanwhile I stood frozen just a few steps away watching their next move. The guy I tripped suddenly kissed John, while John began positioning himself to lick the nipples of the twink guy dancing with them. "A familiar posturing for a morning threesome," I thought. With their attention locked into each other, it felt like they had created their own world,

Where I became one of the outsiders.

Scrambling to hold my defenses together, I fixed my eyes to trip's friend who was standing behind them. He was watching the trio intently, who are now hugging each other as their bodies bounced to the beat of sound. The guy who stood behind me was trying to reach out my hand. I took it back the moment I felt his fingers rubbed against my palm. To be honest, he was cute. I could acknowledge his advances to get back at John and his abandonment but when I saw my real trip's friend being so jealous at the trio who's groping each other's hips.

A sudden surge of humanity filled me.

Rekindling old flames was a good idea but who am I to reach out when I decieved him by giving a false cell number last time. Would I look more pathetic if after following one person the whole night, I would end up making out with another one?

I guess there was no escape other than to accept defeat. Much as I would like to appear triumphant in the game I played with John, my feelings lead me to submission. The floor was not mine this time and for once, the wounds of others will cause my suffering.

Such is the cycle of life.

After a quick trip to the bathroom for a last leak, I went back at the trio to inform the masseur of my intention to leave. The sun was already up outside and in a matter of minutes, my mom would be looking after me.

"Una na ako sayo bro. Ingat sa pag-uwi."

"Huh? Alis ka na? O sige ingat. Text-text na lang." He said briefly before going back to his partners who were now touching each other's crotches.

What a life he had. Not in a million years would I wish it to be mine.

I left Che'lu as the last of the vampires were scrambling for taxis that would take them home. The sky was deep blue and the sweet September wind blew from the grassy hills of Sierra Madre and gave a fresh breath of life to those who have given up in their search for affection during the long chilly Saturday night.

Reality finally got hold of me that morning. With flirtmates around, there is no way I can again be free in Malate. How can I forget and move on when there will always be someone who will remind me of the past?

Maybe, I have to leave the place to seek solace elsewhere. I do not know where, but somehow I will manage to thrive when I plant my roots elsewhere.

The first rays of sunlight awakens the real residents of Malate. Life begins its crawling pace as I dragged myself from Orosa to Taft and seek a cab that would finally take me home.

As I raised my right hand to hail the next cab slowly approaching my side of the road.

It dawned to me that it's time to start all over again.

September begins and I am once again free to chart my new destiny.

Tripper

We were four in the table. I was seated near the windows, while next to me sat master Centurion. Across our chair, just beyond the blue plastic buckets where the now empty bottles of San Mig Light were once placed sat the new couple. They were two male friends who have girlfriends, but decided to take a shot in having an affair. I wasn't surprised at all when Centurion told me the news. They had been constant text partners for the past two weeks. They also went out a couple of times, and they already confessed to our master their mutual like for each other. The only thing missing was formality.

Anyway, my head was swirling and I needed something to take the alcohol out of my system. The New Wave music spun by the DJ wasn't helping at all - it makes me want to throw up - especially when some artist made a falsetto sound. Inside the bathroom, while digestive remains were pouring forth liberally out of my throat, the music suddenly turned upbeat. Finally, we're getting house music. There's salvation for me after all.

I returned to my seat feeling much better. The lady next to our table was already raising her arms and her torso was already making ripple movements to follow the beat. Her slender, wavy motion caught my attention. She just triggered the clubber in me.

Within minutes I was already following her movements. My head was bouncing to the house music, my arms were half-raised and my torso was already making some ripple movements depending on how hard and tribal the beat was. We looked we silly definitely - drunk and dancing on our chairs. But this dancing, eventually made us notice one another even if we are, literally worlds apart.

"Tangina master, kung dance floor lang ito, kawawa tong tsik saken." Centurion was grinning while I bragged about my feats inside the club.

"Alam mo ang secret para maka-score eh dapat nagsasayaw ka na may libog sa katawan." Tactless, I was short of telling him that I try not to masturbate when I know that I'd be partying when night-time arrives.

So there. The upbeat music made me a little sober and a little bit hornier. The sudden adrenalin rush did the wonders, and since the new couples were secretly exchanging gestures of affirmation to each other - which made me a little jealous - I turned my attention to the lady who was now exchanging glances at me. It was fun to trip with the opposite sex, especially when you know that you're really flirting with a female and not a tranny.

Last night however was a different case. I wasn't just satisfied with just trading glances with someone.

I was willing to show my friends that even if my physical needs exclusively cater to males, I can pass out as a straight guy and can trip with a female.

And trip I did.

As the story goes, I stood up to pick an arm chair from an empty table not far from us. I placed just inches away from the dancing lady, who immediately acknowledged my presence by asking for a light. In fairness, she was quite beautiful when you look at her closer. She's a chinita with a skinny body and wore a black top last night.

"Okay ka pa?" She asked me, while leaning her head closer to mine.

"Yup ayos lang ako." I even made a thumbs up remark to reinforce my state of control.

"Uy crush ka nung isang kasama namin." As if I'd find her interesting. You, babe, already caught my attention.

We exchanged pleasantries and smoked together, while the rest of the boys kept looking at me. I'm not really sure if their reaction bordered on embarrassment, so I asked them never to bring up what happened the next time we see each other.

"Walang magpapaalala ng kahihiyan kong ito ha." I told Centurion after drinking my eight bottle of beer.

The flirting eventually ended up in a fluke. Though I learned that her name was Abby, (and I introduced myself as Mark) we didn't exchange numbers. I learned that no matter how I trip with ladies, it simply wouldn't work. So at 2 in the morning, the four of us guzzled our last bottle of beer and called it a night. After saying my farewell to Abby, I took the first cab who stopped beside me leaving Centurion and the couple to figure how to get home. I had this feeling that someone will go home in the morning with a sore butt.

The house music and the flirting with the tsik left me longing for more. Therefore, I decided to head to my favorite watering hall halfway across the city. It doesn't matter if I would come all the way from the highlands of Tandang Sora, so long as I will settle my score elsewhere, where the dance floor is a familiar territory.

So at 3 am, despite having to take a grueling forty-minute jeep ride from Agham Road to Julio Nakpil in Taft,

I found myself back in Malate.

Geisha

Para kay PrincheCha Fiona nang minsang ka-text siya habang ako'y nanood ng Memoirs of a Geisha.

The Jomanian rules of Clubbing.

---

1. When nobody invites for an inuman, hang-out or a reunion of some sort, the best course of action is to proceed to Malate when the weekly "gimmick pass" hasn't been used yet.

2. BED is always expensive, while Club Mafia is still a trash. O-Bar is for the fabulous so still, the best watering hole in that side of queerdom is Che'lu.

3. Che'lu has the lousiest dance track list of them all. Not only does the music skips occasionally, they are so obsolete compared to BED/Government standards.

4. However, they have the friendliest clientèle in town. A five minute stay in the dance floor will gain you a new-found "friend." It has been proven many times before.

5. We can flirt with naughty ladies, but we never take them seriously - no matter how gorgeous they are.

6. We can dance with trannies or effeminates, but we never let them touch us. Physical needs command that we seek someone tougher.

7. Therefore, what we seek are the masculines. It doesn't matter if they are goodlooking so long as they have this "animalistic" appeal that we seek.

8. We can dance the way we want, but always put in mind never to take one's clothing, no matter how addictive it is to show one's muscular advantage after a year in the gym.

9. We never talk. We never say "hi," "can we dance," or "you're cute" to get one's attention. Instead, we dance, we look at someone's eyes, we smile and we hold hands. We let them strike first.

10. We never dance with someone who tags his girl friend along the bar, and we never steal guys who already found a partner. We do not want the same crushing situation happen to us.

11. A bottom will always rub their butt against your crotch, while a top, would be glad to rub their crotch against yours. Turn your back from them and they'd be doing a frottage in an instant.

12. Remember that our sole reason for having a solo-flight night out is for us to feel. We can grope, squeeze, dance closely, lean on someone's shoulder and even kiss torridly so long as the partner deserves our affection. We long to be sexual, but rules apply that we can never be.

13. We never entertain people who wants us "to go."

14. After all acts of intimacy has been performed, do remember never to tell one's true name. We never give out our number no matter how promising the prospects are. One worry is enough.

15. Lastly, we never flirt with the taxi driver going home. Such disgraceful act destroys our ego.

These are the rules we must abide. Remember that all we have is just, but a borrowed night.


Yours truly,


The Grand Executor,
Darkstar.

Discreet

You mounted the ledge like a usurper coming from the crowd below. The spot you just occupied was the same corner I was aiming when I went to the ledge an hour ago. Since I was busy trying to make a score with the ladies, I let you take my place. After all, your pheromone-drenched body was a welcome addition to the merry boys who ruled the space we both occupied.

The ladies dancing on the same ledge were slim and gorgeous. They were in front of us. Their hips moved and their bodies twisted, while their boobies bounced to the beat of the sound. I was certain I flirted with a woman and not a tranny this time. You see, I have this habit of mistaking a she-boy for a real chick.

Your presence became a sudden distraction, just when I was an inch close in getting my prized pussy. Everyone was trying to have a piece of you. Even the spotlight turned from the ladies who danced like sluts on my part of the ledge towards your direction, where revelers gathered just to see you bust a move. You know why our eyes were turned to you? Your ruggedness suggested a masculine demeanor, but it was your bulky chest, flat abs and tanned skin that took everyone by storm. In the sea of flamboyancy, a half-naked barako dude like you was the only thing missing before the ship overloaded with gay men turns overboard forcing everyone to sink before getting your attention.

You danced with much so much spunk, while your audience surrounded you with their hands raised up to touch your sweaty torso. I would have done the same, had my pride jacket failed me. You were a sea god out there (where one even made a sign of the cross after feeling your abdominals with his hands) amidst the frenzy of prancing sea-men. Secretly, I desired for your attention; but knowing how inferior my beacon was for you to take notice, I decided to swim on my own, hoping the mermaids on the other side of our sea would still find my presence interesting.

"Naks andami mong fans ah!"

"Hindi naman." Your smile left a trace of inflated ego, while your peripheral glances sized up my attributes that you matched up with yours.

Your audience went elsewhere a few dance tracks later. Perhaps they got tired of worshiping your body, which can never be theirs no matter how they desperately supplicate for your blessing. You were still in your corner dancing, while flexing your biceps for everyone to see. They were firmer and bigger than mine. But with a height that never reached even the tips of my shoulder blades, I appeared looming darkly behind you.

If you were a sea god dancing proudly over a sea of drowning gay men, I was a Titan watching your every move. In my brooding silence, I hoped that my shadowy presence would catch your attention.

And it did, without me doing any work.

You put your hands behind your back to feel if your shirt was still tucked inside your tight jeans, while I, simply put mine near yours pretending not to brush your sweaty fingers. But with every brush, our fingers touched and ran across one another. Soon, the touching gave way to holding. Who would have thought that we could ever become intimate even if it was our mere hands expressing our hidden feelings for one another?

Soon, your patrons returned touching again every part of your lean body. I let them have their way for you have already chosen your mate for the night. While your left hand tried to push away stubborn hands aiming for your zipper. Your right hand was on mine, squeezing my hardness. I tried to reciprocate the favor by squeezing yours but I felt it would simply be inappropriate.

Your objective was to catch other's attention and I don't want to block your way.

I could have turned my gaze elsewhere and leave you basking in your five minutes of fame. The skinny long-haired lady next to us was already responding to my provocations long before you came to the ledge. However, my inner nature told me to stay. I cannot deny that I longed for you just like you secretly longed for me. With no words able to describe our feelings, I understood that despite your outer toughness, you sought someone who could match your ruggedness. Others will have their turns touching your body, but I was the only one capable of feeling your soul. As you leaned on my arms while trying to bend your body, I knew that you sought someone who can make you feel secured right at your most vulnerable moment.

I would have wished for you to turn around and face me. But with all the searchlights focused on you, I was a mere shadow standing behind with my arms ready to catch if you fall. I could have asked you to be mine, but what happens after I consumed you? Would our lives intertwine like when it happens in some gay fairytale? Much as it gets tiring sometimes, truth is, what we had was just a night's dance.

Even our names were unknown to one another.

Maybe someone else deserve you better. Maybe I have become a player who simply wants to gauge how far would my discreet flirting would get me. Maybe you will meet someone who would make you feel more than I am capable of.

With my hands still bound to someone, I know, you will be happier with someone else.

But you know what, I also thought what if you were that someone who could make me feel better? What if you were that someone who would someday give back my freedom? What if behind the mask we both wore last night revealed a person who was simply tired of giving too much?

What if I was letting a chance go, despite how strong our connection was? What if despite how your worshipers waited for you to perform miracles, you were already performing it on me?

Sadly, like all the guys I flirted before you, I would never know the answers...

"Pare ang astig mo."

"Talaga, salamat ha."

"Una na ako sayo. Enjoy mo ang party."

"Una ka na??"

Yup Paalam.

No matter how I wanted to stay longer and no matter how dying I was to keep you company until daybreak comes,

I know where my limit ends.

Had you met me when my heart was still made of wood. Things would have ended differently.

But now that it is already surrounded with barbed wires.

It is goodbye for us.

Even if fate gives us a next time, I know, we will never be the same dance partners we had been at the White Party last night.

---

Touch my body
Throw me on the floor,
Wrestle me around,
Play wit me some more

- Mariah Carey, Touch My Body

Congressman Danton Remoto (Last Part)

"Nasaan na yung mga kasama mo?" I asked Danton after I have returned from the washroom.

He did not answer my question. Instead, he just smiled, raised his two hands upward and made a "no" gesture with his head. I understood what he meant. After all, he went all the way to Club Government alone to seal the deal with its management for this year's Pride March that will be held in front of the club a few weeks from now.

I noticed that his gaze pinned at a group of revelers near the ledge. He seemed jealous at how they strut themselves like the world was theirs for the taking. Danton then asked me if I would go back to the ledge.

"Perhaps, maybe."

Then I saw Dabo swaying his arms and moving his hips, as if trying to copy what Jiban was doing. The dance space beside him was large enough to accommodate two people without the risk of bumping into another clubber.

"Tara dun tayo sir." Before he could say yes to my suggestion, I took his hand and brought him where the party was.

---

That night, not only did I become a dancer, I also served as a tour guide for the congressman, who admitted that it was his first time at Government. Occasionally, some drunken loser would bump into Danton so also had to look after his back and push away those ingrate faggots, who might not be aware of the VIP they were pushing.

Some guests, perhaps as young as a 21 year old would look at Danton, recall where they have seen his face, and like a spark on a cigarette lighter, would wave at him and acknowledge his presence.

"Grabe kilala nila ako." Danton would say, blushing at the exposure he was getting.

And it was the beginning of a long night, where we were able to get to know Danton Remoto up close and personal. We were at the heart of the party and talking about politics was out of the question. Instead, he had fun sharing his fascinations with men. On the ledge were good-looking men of different ages grinding their torsos in a wavy and spontaneous motion. Some of these dancers took off their shirts revealing their well-developed and not-so-well-developed chests and abs for the crowd to behold.

These exhibitionists have been showing off their bodies for ages and their confident attitude is what sets them apart from those who are just contented to watch them sweat for everyone. Had Danton been to Adonis or other gay bars in Quezon City, he would now have an idea between a paid macho dancer performing on stage to a clubber busting his moves on the ledge.

The former do it for money, while the latter do it for sheer pleasure.

Both do it for entertainment.

---

It was already past three in the morning. The crowd was still charged-up and waiting for DJ Bam Del Valle to play the next Diva Anthem on his play list. Jiban's sensual moves, which attracted the crowd's fascination earlier has now inspired everyone in the dance floor that it seems like the party will indeed "bring the house down." His energy was so contagious that even Danton Remoto remarked that his moves were more eye catching than all the naked, muscular men dancing on the ledge combined.

Jiban of course, did not hear our conversation. He was so busy expressing himself, that he didn't even notice the people watching him. To set things straight, he was so smooth, but he knew his limits. No matter how I prodded him to go up in the ledge or take off his shirt like the others did, he firmly said no.

Going back to Danton, I have always pictured him as a flamboyant, witty, and very intellectual gentleman, who is always there to defend my brethren in front of the press. I expected him to act formal and somewhat distant, knowing that he has a reputation to keep in public. Yet at Club Government, he showed us otherwise. As he tried in vain to groove to what the young men understood as freelance dancing, I could not help but express my fascination in his attempts to blend in with everyone. "Express yourself the way you want to be," I encouraged him. Tired of copying everyones moves, he showed to me and Dabo how they danced during the eighties. "Just move your feet here and there, roll your hands before letting your right hand float in the air and let your finger point to an imaginary disco ball" He taught us. "Your party is so tamed, you know that?"

And our party was still tame huh... I wonder if he would still say the same once he sees men kissing one another and making out on the dance floor of Che'lu.

My tropa, which included Tripper, HB and their friend Roy may not be as fab and loud like the other groups that were in Government that night. But to see Danton Remoto enjoying our company and choosing to stay with us rather than to mingle with others who would enjoy his presence more is I think the greatest honor we received. For all the times he has been a stubborn fighter and a staunch defender of Gay and Lesbian rights, only few would have been given the opportunity to know what's on his mind, his fascinations and his plans for the future.

And what's so astonishing about it is that he shared them to men who were just beginning to come into terms with their sexuality in public.

"Alam mo ba sir, may nagtanong na guy sa akin kanina kung straight daw ba ako?"

"Talaga, ano sabi mo?"

"Hindi. Sabi niya sa akin straight daw siya. Rolleyes na nga lang ako."

"Pero alam mo sir, uso na ngayon yun. Mga may asawa o kaya girlfriend, lalaking lalaki pero dahil lang sa internet nagsimulang maglandi sa kapwa nila lalaki."

"Ay correct ka diyan, marami ngang gusto makipag-meet sa akin puro mga may asawa eh."

"I wonder what's your generation looks like sir."

"Very different from yours. I assure you, puro noon effem."

---

There was a time when I avoided effeminates out of fear that I would become one of them or that they would out me in public. Time had allowed me to gradually blend with these men, without compromising my natural inclination to remain masculine. Sometimes, the old repulsion creeps back, especially in very tense sexual conditions. But the more I grow and understand my preference, the more I begin to see that there is no difference among labels,

Meeting the esteemed congressman had made me appreciate what the Odders once said about "Unity in Diversity."

Effeminates and Masculines may have two distinct voices, but will always be one in spirit.

Congressman Danton Remoto (Second Part)

I had a sworn promise a few days ago that I would abstain from clubbing until I have tamed myself not to dance naked on the dance floor. The sight simply is too embarrassing, especially when I have company. However, downing three bottles of strong ice had made me overturn my earlier statement. I was there in Government, dancing in front of Dabo with still my shirt on, complaining as to why the DJ had picked up dance anthems that were too gay for my taste.

Now everyone's attention had shifted from Danton Remoto to this friend of ours we found to be keeping a hidden talent in dancing. For "security" reasons I will call him Jiban in this entry. Jiban was the most uptight among my friends who went to Government last Saturday. While me and Dabo had already positioned ourselves right in front of the ledge, he was still there, sulking in one of the corners. Maybe he was waiting for the right music to get him in the mood, I don't know. Perhaps he needed more alcohol in his system before he could muster enough courage to groove with us on the floor.

At past one in the morning, the DJ must have sensed that the crowd wasn't releasing enough energy to "bring the house down." I never saw anyone putting his hands up in the air - except for that Chinese-looking kid who appeared to be high in E and was wiggling like a maggot in one of the poles at the fringes of the dance floor. Meanwhile, it seems like the effects of alcohol had already kicked in Jiban's system. He came out of nowhere and began strutting his moves in the middle of our circle.

Jiban's good looks, impressive height and his natural penchant for dancing like a real gigolo had immediately caught the crowd's attention. Even I, who never stops dancing the moment my energy reaches its peak levels had to take a break only to be mesmerized by his synchronized and controlled bodily motion. He was like a bamboo swaying gracefully in the wind; his arms reach out to some imaginary fruit, too sweet and succulent, the only thing we could do is to gape at him as he expressed himself in a manner that is contagious to anyone who appreciates the fine art of clubbing.

I could not take the heat of his moves. Besides, the dance floor had become too crowded as everyone wanted to get close and see Jiban in action. So I climbed the ledge to release the energy I got from just watching my very talented friend perform his gigolo dancing. My aim was to take the central spot, only to put Jiban in my place after I succeeded in wrestling it from other shameless exhibitionist like me. Unfortunately, the kid doesn't want to get noticed. He was contented in his own little space still swaying and grinding like he had his own elevated platform. So I was left trying to follow his steps, but it seems like I had already developed my own - which I got from dancing hard house and trance all these years. Two dance anthems later and I have exhausted myself to submission. I went down to take a leak only to see Danton standing beside one of the tables, clapping as I passed in front of him.

"Yaiks, he saw me getting wasted up there! Kahiya" I told myself.

I smiled at the esteemed Congressman and bowed my head to accept his recognition. He was alone, fabulous as ever and was impressed with my performance.

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Congressman Danton Remoto (First Part)

Club Government, Makati City - He is talking to a friend in one of the tables fronting the dance floor. A tall gentleman in his late thirties, had it not been for the newspaper photos of him shaking hands with the parloristas during last election's campaign, I will never recognize his presence just a few feet away from me.

He is wearing a silver rimmed spectacles that bounce off a glint of light, when the strobe lights hit a part of the metallic frame. His curly uncombed hair suggests a person of modesty, unlike the other gay guys in the club who might have spent an eternity sculpting their mohawk-cut hair to catch the crowd's attention. Finally, his trademark striped pink polo shirt reveals his advocacy. He is a defender of rights and a lover of gay men. Many would consider him an effeminate gay guy from an earlier generation. Despite this, I know that he is the man who holds sway of my future.

He passed right in front of me, his hands gracefully swinging in mid-air. Dabo, who was leaning against the table while guzzling his San Mig Light did not see him walk past behind him. Even if it took me some time to recognize him as the esteemed gay advocate from Ateneo, something tells me that we are dealing with a very important person. Might as well turn an ordinary Saturday gimmick into something worth blogging about.

"C'mon, let's introduce ourselves" I told Dabo. "It would be nice to brush elbows with the future congressman,"

My companion immediately agreed to my idea without displaying any signs of hesitation.

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"Excuse me sir, are you Congressman Danton Remoto?" I approached him, feeling awkward of my introduction.

He smiled and extended his hand to acknowledge my presence. Much to my amazement, Danton spoke warmly and did not introduce himself as the congressman. He was so down-to-earth that the barriers between us crashed in an instant. I thought that every gay man who knows Danton address him as congressman - like what supporters do to their candidates. I was wrong. He isn't a representative yet. In fact, the then COMELEC Chairman Benjamin Abalos had declared him a nuisance candidate last national elections for very dubious reasons.

But being aware of his prominence as one of the spokesperson for gays and lesbians in the country, I cannot help but address him as congressman. After all, he is the point person to approach in every national issue that involves gays - like what happened in the Vicente Sotto Scandal. He is also the first person gay men call for help when bath houses are being raided - like what had happened at Sanctum a few weeks ago. For a person who have given so much for his advocacy, I believe that Danton deserves to be addressed as a representative, whether he is in congress or not.

I introduced myself and Dabo as one of the "grassroots bloggers." I came up with the name to let Danton know that we are ready to help him in his advocacy using our minuscule influence in cyberspace. It means that we can lend our blogs to write about him, in hopes that the mainstream bloggers like Manila Gay Guy, McVie and BaklaAko would pick up our entries and disseminate them to their larger audience. However, for Danton, our designation was of no value. For him, what is important is that someone had recognized and made him feel welcome, especially in a club infamously known for the pretentiousness of its patrons.

And so the three of us had a conversation.

We learned that Danton will be running for Congress as the party list representative of Ladlad this coming elections. A presidential candidate, who I would openly support, had assured him of a ticket in his party. Danton revealed that this candidate would be funding his campaign. Good for him. I hope that this candidate wins the presidency, for after he lead the senate into signing the cheap medicine law several months ago, I knew that he would serve the country well.

Our subject jumped from this presidential candidate to Ping Lacson, who apparently was afraid to be associated with gays. "Baka naman may tinatago," I told our guest, while his eyes rolled suggesting an approval in my statement. We also talked about the recent Sanctum Raid, where his name was mentioned in one of the forums where the subject was brought up. He said that he was against the operation of the said blue bar simply because they earned a lot from their operations while remaining a fly-by-night enterprise.

"Imagine they don't have any permits nor they pay government taxes," Danton explains. "How can we help gay establishments that promote such business practices?"

Our thoughtful conversation could have went on the whole night. Unfortunately, it was cut short when a group of gay guys approached our guest. It seems like Danton was getting more popular as the night wore on, so we decided to let others take our place and proceed to turn the heart of dance floor as our group's dancing space.

Dabo and I thought that it would be the last time we would see our congressman.

Later that morning we found out that we were wrong.

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Under 1 Minute

Saturn keeps asking you to be responsible and make sure that whatever you do is in alignment with your ultimate goals, and there’s a reason why he’s asking. You’re moving into a high-powered position, and you’ll be there very shortly, if you’re not there already. As a major voice of authority in the world, you’ll need to be the example of a well-integrated person, whatever that means to you. This week your desire for adventure will far outweigh your capacity to reason, so please be conscious. You can have a great time, spending your money and sharing the fun with everyone you know, but in the end you have to be sure that the way you come off to others isn’t undermining all your hard work. This week you could throw away a decade of labor for a moment of fun. Proceed with care.

Astrological forecast for the week of April 21 - 27, Sagittarius
Notes Along A Journey Blog

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Darkstar: Joms ang tanga tanga mo talaga!

Joms: Alam ko, and I am so proud of my stupidity.

Mugen: Haha Pucha under one minute, nakahanap ka kaagad ng karir pagkapasok mo sa loob ng Che'Lu. Sinong mag-aakalang ganito ka na kabangis ngayon.

Joms: Kaya nga matindi rin ang control ko eh. Alam ko kung ano ang potentials ko... matagal na.

Pulsar: Ano ba talaga ang nangyari. Magkwento ka naman for the sake na may pag-uusapan tayo.

Joms: Ganito yun mga parekoy. Sinamahan ko yung mga tropa ko sa Odders mag-Malate ngayong gabi kasi daw matagal na silang hindi nakakabalik dun. Nagmamagandang-loob lang naman ako dahil sa kanilang lahat, ako lang talaga ang hindi nawalan ng connection sa lugar. In fact, karamihan nga ng mga ka-generation namin ay bathouse at massage parlors na ang pinupuntirya eh. Just for old time sake, I went to Malate and brought them with me.

Pulsar: Okay. Bakit ka sinabihan ng tanga ni Darkstar?

Joms: As usual, balik ako sa dating hang-out. Nagkataon naman na habang papunta kami sa dance floor ay may na-ispatan akong lalaking pasok na pasok sa trip ko.

Mugen: Nagkataon na trip rin niya si Joms. We could see it in his eyes.

Pulsar: Mind describing this guy to me?

Joms: Ordinary guy lang siya sa standards ng marami. Mga 5'6 ang tangkad, payat at kayumanggi ang kulay ng kanyang balat. Naka-cap siya na white at yellow ang suot niyang polo.

Pulsar: So anong nakita mo dito sa binata at bakit mo siya nagustuhan?

Darkstar: Ako na ang sasagot para kay Joms. Gaya ng mga natritripan niya, he stands out among the crowd. Mukhang sanggano. May goatie na, may soul patch pa sa mukha. Mapungay ang kanyang mga mata at sa tindig pa lang ay alam mong barako siya.

Mugen: Yeah. Rugged type ang gusto ni Joms eh, and he very much fitted into his ideal guy.

Pulsar: Gaya ni Bamboo-looking guy at ni boylet from last time?

Joms: Oo. Ewan ko ba, bakit may fetish ako sa mga lalaki na mukhang muslim o kaya naman ay bad boy. Kulang na lang ay bentahan niya ako ng dibidi eh.

Darkstar: Matangos kasi ang ilong kaya ka baliw sa kanya.

Pulsar: So anong nangyari pagkatapos.

Joms: Obviously gusto namin ang isa't isa. Pero dude, I swear, hindi ako sasama ang loob kung mapupunta siya kay Nate, yung isa kong tropa. Nung una nga, sila ang gusto kong i-pair up eh.

Darkstar: Kaso mo, kay Joms siya pumunta. Si Joms rin ang unang nagpakita ng interest sa kanya.

Mugen: To continue the story, nagsayaw sila for around two hours. Walang palitan ng partner yun ha. At mind you, close dancing ito. I wouldn't be surprised if they touched each other's body dahil dun.

Darkstar: Which is what they actually did. Grabe. Ang sarap sana halikan ng chest nung guy. Balbon kasi. Arghhh!! Bakit ba kasi ngayon pa naging torpe si Joms eh.

Pulsar: Is that all that happened?

Joms: Ah eh..

Darkstar: To continue the story. Masikip sa loob ng dance floor. Nagkataon na umatake na naman ang pagiging knight in shining armor nitong kupal nating kaibigan kaya hayun, feeling protected ang lalaki. Sa lapad ba naman ni Joms, literal na binakuran niya si binata habang sayaw lang ng sayaw ang lalaki. Naghubad pa nga siya ng damit eventually eh.

Mugen: Habang si Joms naman ang nalamog sa lahat ng mga dumaraan. Ewan ko na lang, if some guy did that to Joms, hindi rin ako magtataka na lumambot talaga ang puso niya sa taong ito.

Darkstar: Which I think is what really happened. Even toughies would appreciate being protected when they feel vulnerable. It's a human nature.

Joms: How I wish someone would do that to me. Pero sadya atang ako ang laging mahilig tumapat sa line of fire eh.

Pulsar: Any violations you did? Tahimik si Dominus. Something naughty must have happened.

Joms: Ni-lips to lips ko yung guy. Masyadong tense ang aming sayawan eh, bumigay ako sa kanya.

Darkstar: Ni-lips to lips nga, daig pa si Maria Clara sa pagiging mahinhin humalik. Haay.

Joms: Alam ko na hesitant siya sa kanyang gagawin. He's trying to show a very masculine image to everyone eh. Tingin mo ba, bakit naghubad ako ng damit kasabay niya nung nagsasayaw kami?

Pulsar: Bakit nga ba??

Joms: Dahil ayaw ko siyang mapag-isa sa gagawin niya. Isa pa, I don't want to appear na subordinate sa kanya no? Even if my chest, I think, is still sagging, my shoulders and my back could compensate for my shortcomings.

Pulsar: Now that we have established that something happened. Did it end up elsewhere?

Mugen: Unfortunately no.

Darkstar: Sayang. Chance ko na yun para may matikmang bago.

Joms: I already violated the Awakening agreement. At least man lang, I could avert a greater disaster by doing the almost impossible by ending the intimacy right on the dance floor.

Darkstar: Gusto ka talaga nung guy Joms. Sumunod na sayo palabas, pinisil pa ang etits mo para ipaalam sayo na gusto ka niya makasex.

Joms: Kaya nga diba pinisil ko rin ng pasimple yung sa kanya para malaman niyang trip ko rin siya. I can bring him to the nearest motel if I want to. Kaso mo nagpaalam ako na may work pa ako.

Darkstar: Nagsinungaling ka nga eh... Kung di mo ginawa yun, I can give him our best. I'd make sure he will never forget us.

Joms: And as the price, I might... get attached.

Pulsar: Good thing you are aware of that.

Joms: Sa mga nangyayari sa akin at sa buhay pag-ibig ko, I have all the right in the world to look for someone who could make me feel. Namimiss ko na ma-infatuate, ang masiraan ng bait dahil sa isang tao. Let's not talk about Phanks, pero kapag nasisiraan ako ng bait sa kanya, it's because I worry. It's not because I am intoxicated with infatuation.

Darkstar: Let's not delve into that aspect of your life. Chill dude.

Pulsar: Love and lust are two different matters. The only problem is, you pretend to be tough, when you know, only a thin wooden wall prevents you from crashing into someone else's life.

Dominus: It was very disappointing. But I am proud that you exchanged your earthly desires for your higher goals. It was extremely close, but you managed to get out in one piece.

Joms: I did. I even sealed everything by giving him a fake number. I swear, I won't think twice of hanging out with that guy, especially if I find out that our interests are the same if I gave him my true number.

Darkstar: Hindi kaya nag-sayang ka ng pagkakataon para mahanap ang iyong tunay na kaligayahan?

Joms: But this is my life. Much as I would like to get a number 2, I know it is very unfair for the one. I never intended P-Man for that position, but he was, now that I am not afraid of admitting it, close to being that person.

Darkstar: Nanghihinayang pa rin ako. Parang iniwan mo sa ere yung guy.

Joms: I wouldn't mind letting you out and transform into a real human if it would make him feel comforted. I made him feel that I was his, until I decided to wake up from our dream.

Joms: Given the chance that something happened between us. I wouldn't follow my lust. Instead, it would be a night of affection. Ganun naman hanap ng mga taong nag-iisa dun diba? All they want is to feel needed. They want to feel that someone is beside them and will never leave their side. Expert tayo sa ganyang emotions parekoy.

Darkstar: Kaya ang mga one night stand mo eh nauuwi sa relasyon o sa FUBU dahil sa ganyan mong prinsipyo eh.

Joms: Precisely, that's why I avoid doing sex with sleepovers before. I make the person feel, for the lack of proper word to use, loved. Kala mo mahirap rin sa akin yun, kasi nakakaramdam rin ako. The mere fact I am willing to stay and keep the person company means I am investing my emotions. Sa pag stay ko kasi imposibleng walang sentihan ang maganap.

Joms: Remember Darkstar, I know you are my tough side. Pero know what, the best feeling in the world is to wake up with someone sleeping beside you. Yung tipo bang madiin pa ang pagkakayakap sayo at ginagawa kang unan.

Darkstar: Fine. Tama na nga ang drama. So it's the end for that guy. Sayang talaga but it's your call. Bilib ako sa self control at diskarte mo. It only shows you're becoming one with yourself.

Joms: I wish.

Pulsar: So paano guys. What will happen next?

Dominus: I suggest Joms should stop going to Malate for the meantime. Palagi na lang ganito nauuwi ang storya eh. If he really desires to achieve a higher state of consciousness, he should, by all means, abstain from all earthly pleasures.

Joms: I am just human not to long for those desires.

Darkstar: Joms is just human not to feel horny all the time. Dinadaan na nga lang niya sa Jeff Palmer madalas eh.

Dominus: But you made a promise before. Don't tell me you're backing out now that you're beginning to reap the rewards of your sacrifices.

Joms: I will try my best to keep still. It would be very challenging, but I pray that I will never forget my word.

Pulsar: Well then, the conference is over and let's call it a night. Thank you boys for sharing your inputs and explanations. So far, we're doing well as a team and we should keep it that way.

Darkstar: Sayang pa rin...

Joms: I will think about him for days. I wonder how things would have been had I given him my number.

Dominus: Only time will tell, but I believe that he is not part of your fate. You did the right thing by letting him go.

Joms: Then I resign to my current state of existence. I sincerely hope that he will find the person he is looking for.

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Ngunit habang kami ay nagsasayaw sa dilim
at magkayakap ng mahigpit. Sa kanyang mga
ngiti at lapit ng aming mga labi sa isa't isa'y
ramdam ko ang kanyang saya sa
pagkakaroon ng kasama.

Kahit pa ito'y isang pangmagdamagan lang.