Art Of Detachment

It sucks
to wake up one morning
realizing that you're the
one being left behind.








Again.

Epitome (One)

They say that when the going gets tough, the tough get going. Many people would resort to madness to lift their spirits up just to keep moving and in my case, I have my own flotilla of coping mechanism to restore what is being lost to me. You see, these past few weeks had been rough. The blog can attest to that. On one side, the issues at the homefront gnawed at my defenses. The turbulence was getting unbearable that I had to resort on outside help to pull me out of the mud. To lean on someone was my weapon of choice and so were the strings of male affairs I wrote here on the blog. My hopes ran high with their reaffirmation of shared intimate feelings. But somewhere along, things did not turn out the way I wish them to be. These affairs faded like embers and there were no means to bring them back. I was dumped twice for one reason or another and the rejection cut deep on my ego.

As my order falls one after another, my inner demons begin to re-assert themselves. The savagery of my survival instincts dictate that I should shut my doors tight on friends and allow myself to fall towards the abyss. It happened before and I feel it happening again. My hope is to emerge on the other side of the black hole in one piece. But to achieve such state of confidence, first is I have to feel good about myself.

I chose reckless abandon to achieve my goal and what better way to start the fire by recognizing my carnal repressions. I knew from the very start that my pictures were my greatest disadvantage. It leaves no good impression on people no thanks to my perpetual habit of frowning in front of the lenses. People tend to get intimidated by my frigid and distant attitude that it takes time for me to establish personal rapport. Unless one catches me lowering my defenses, it gets pretty difficult to open me from within.

There are two states where I easily approach strangers. One is during the brief state of ecstasy offered by loud beats and sudden laser flashes offered by dance clubs, the second is by baring my skin in the dark corridors of the bathhouses. My last incarnation at Club Bath proved so disastrous that I vowed never to return. Imagine a place where one could freely choose who to make out and copulate with. The sheer feeling of imposing your standards on others was breathtaking but it leaves you hollow afterward. The inhumanity of rejecting others was too much that I decided to cease returning after my third visit.

I stayed sober for more than a year.

Yesterday was a different story. I was pissed off at everything. I hissed at those who showed concern at my condition, while leaving careless remarks that hurt others. I made fun at people not knowing that I was becoming mean, and when it finally hit me, I snapped. I told myself that perhaps I needed a boost just to feel again. Maybe I can undo the damage by receiving affection even if I get it through artificial means.

And so at half past eight in the evening, I decided to hold back my established protocols and let instincts creep in. Armed with knowledge acquired from Discreet Manila, I sounded the ceremonial drums and lighted the sticks of incense.

"We will perform a different kind of exorcism tonight," Kitsune told me.

"You will return to the bath house scene again."

---

-tobecontinued-

Overcast

Maybe it is the dark grey clouds heaving with rainwater that is turning you blue. Or perhaps, the drenched pavements and empty street corners that is causing your gloom, but I cannot deny that the weather is turning you frigid and lifeless lately. Sprinkle the mood with some disappointments and you find yourself in a bottomless pit of sorrow. No matter how many ways you cheer yourself up, you find yourself crashing back to the same ground you long to escape.

The culprit isn't really the weather. We can bear seeing overcast skies and sunless, dank grounds but to find yourself in a spot where you only see a bleak hope of redemption, you wish you had another life - or someone else to pull you up.

But there is none.

Not even the boys you were raving a few days ago.

So here you are, scribbling your thoughts in the blog in hopes of casting out the lingering feeling of heaviness. This is your confession, and despite being read by everyone, you still write and expose your wounds. "They could care all they want," you say to yourself. "But it is I who can truly get out of this rut."

Right now I can still feel the pain you bear. You met your best friend yesterday. She had a crush on you back in high school. You saw each other because she is getting married next week. You didn't feel bad because of some missed opportunities, you weep because between the two of you, she's able to stand better on her own.

Suddenly, you feel the smallness of your achievements: Her, being a non-graduate earns thrice the salary you are getting. She can list down all the perks of her workplace with a grin, while you, can only boast your blinded loyalty to your work with embarrassed smile.

"But you can always switch jobs, especially with your credentials!" She tells you.

You can only answer her with one word. "Promotion."

And so you went home, soaked, after walking under the rain because you were too stingy to buy an umbrella. You opened the door with your eyes still drunk with fading images of your best friend's mom blissfully cleaning their small apartment with nothing else to worry in the world. Both her kids are working, the eldest will get married in a few weeks, and another person will add more income to the household. You can't help but envy them, and hope at the same time that your mother would someday feel the same. You found your mom in the living room and without catching your breath, told her about your best friend. Then you announced that you recommended your sister for a start-up position in your company. Your mom wasn't eager to hear the news. Beset with troubles about the Sikyu business' failings and your sister's apparent unwillingness to do anything to lend her support, her attention shifts from listening to your message of hope to the spiraling events being reported in the evening news.

---

The sister gave her half-hearted nod when you discussed things the night before, but when she woke up this morning, you immediately felt her disinterest and hesitation. It's like she decided to remain living within the red box of her twisted ideals. A family conference was called to agree on a decision. You stated the facts about your work, and for reasons you cannot fathom, some details appeared revolting to their senses.

"But I once ran a business that involved exposing the flesh!!" You growled "My job isn't like that. You think my work is exposing me?".

"Besides, if she do good, she will be assigned to the account that fits her academic background!!"

But they never listened. Instead, you feel them moving backwards like they dreaded the very thing that will put food on the table and pay the mounting bills.

I knew it would disappoint you. Their decision would leave you fuming with rage. While you were staring at the mirror this morning, I saw your red eyes welling up with tears. You cannot understand how they could afford running like headless chickens, while you, imagine a Glock Pistol pointed at your head. A slight twitch of a finger on the trigger and it's all over.

You are set free, while they, would have to fend for themselves unprepared for the days to come.

You slipped the uppermost button of your shirt and walked slowly towards the master's bedroom. The sister apologized and promised you that she will find another job. You faked your smile, knowing it was all lies. It was the second time she ditched your offer. The last one went to a friend who is now earning more than what you get. Your mother tried to console you, you gave her a hug but a shard of glass remain embedded somewhere in you.

You left the house this morning wordless,

with no destination in mind.

---

So,
So what I'm still a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't need you
And guess what
I'm havin more fun
and now that we're done
I'm gonna show you tonight
I'm alright
I'm just fine
And you're a tool so
So what
I am a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't want you tonight

- Pink, So What

Ikaanim

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the exes for the last seven years to justify those hopes with which Mugen and Pulsar have been pleased to solace themselves. Is it that mind-blowing intimacy with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your heart. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this sensuous reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations after our affections have been emptied? Are cold treatment and gradual distance necessary to a work of love and romance? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of abandonment or subjugation; the last arguments to which other men resort.

- Patrick Henry, Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death

---

We have forgiven, but nobody says we should ever forget.

The Gospel Of Thomas

Our entry for today is about Reincarnation.

Wikipedia states that:

"Reincarnation is a doctrine or metaphysical belief that some essential part of a living being (in some variations only human beings) survives death to be reborn in a new body. This essential part is often referred to as the spirit or soul, the "higher" or "true" self, "divine spark", or "I". According to such beliefs, a new personality is developed during each life in the physical world, but some part of the self remains constant throughout the successive lives."

It goes on to explain that:

"Belief in reincarnation has ancient roots. This doctrine is a central tenet within the majority of Indian religious traditions, such as Hinduism (including Yoga, Vaishnavism, and Shaivism) and Jainism. The idea was also entertained by some ancient Greek philosophers. Many modern Pagans also believe in reincarnation as do some New Age movements, along with followers of Spiritism, practitioners of certain African traditions, and students of esoteric philosophies such as Kabbalah, and Gnostic and Esoteric Christianity. The Buddhist concept of Rebirth although often referred to as reincarnation differs significantly from the Hindu-based traditions and New Age movements in that there is no unchanging "soul" (or eternal self) to reincarnate."

Unfortunately, the Abrahamic religions do not subscribe to the idea of birth and rebirth. It's always between heaven and hell, and lines of morality are drawn to these two paths in the afterlife. Most Christians would embrace the idea of eternal salvation rather than achieving struggled perfection through countless existence.

I for one is in contrast with my mother when it comes to my idea of afterlife. She believes in heaven, while I bombard her with questions on what to do with an eternity. "Hindi ba boring yun, forever ka nasa langit, puro sarap lang ang nararanasan mo?" Mom defends her position by telling me that time and space isn't a concept in heaven. I would further challenge her claim by asking her to imagine endlessness with one consciousness. Often, our conversation would end by my sister's proclamation that God is a capitalist invention.

Time and again, I wrote entries dealing with questions of an afterlife. Despite having strong leanings toward Christianity, something tells me that there's more to heaven and hell, and that these concepts were designed, with meticulous blueprints to scare away the pious into believing an angry and vengeful almighty.

"But my creator is compassionate." I would remind myself. "Why should he let his creations suffer heaven and hell when they can always try again until they get to figure out what life's meaning is?"

So there, that is why I dabble in the occult of Buddhism from time to time. At least, the belief allows me to understand the very nature of things in order to live in harmony with my surroundings. Good thing such faith doesn't demand a switch of religion so it becomes a philosophy I try to follow when faced with occasional spiritual dilemma.

But my searching never stops there. Like all true seekers, I look for a common thread among faiths that will reinforce my personal beliefs. Standing by my religion, my attempts to prove that Jesus Christ does tell something about reincarnation seems bearing fruits. His words may not have been included in the four books of the New Testament but a passage I found from the Gospel of Thomas this afternoon was enough to satiate my hunger for answers.

"And Jesus said, 'The person is like a wise fisherman who cast his net into the sea and drew it up from the sea full of little fish. Among them the wise fisherman discovered a fine large fish. He threw all the little fish back into the sea, and easily chose the large fish. Anyone here with two good ears had better listen!'

Written in the Book of Matthew, the same passage appear like this:

"47Once again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish. 48When it was full, the fishermen pulled it up on the shore. Then they sat down and collected the good fish in baskets, but threw the bad away. 49This is how it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come and separate the wicked from the righteous 50and throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

So efficient and liberating Thomas' version is. The spark I saw may appear deceiving but as far as I know, the large fish being picked up are the ones who understood life and all its love and suffering. Thus, it doesn't need to relive it again.

This fish already gained perfection.

Ask me what the goal of perfection is and my answer is simple:

Nothingness.

The Catcher

Pain must be the price
Of my submission
To a long-cherished wish
To be loved by love-things
That grow and rip
Open the sealed vaults
Of my skin. Man-friend.

---

A friend sought my advice about getting impaled. He is a hardcore top in his past sexual engagements and now that he finds himself in a relationship with another top, his partner asked him a gift for their monthsary: to give up his ass and become his bottom.

Now the problem is he's confused. He loves his partner so much, that he's on the verge of giving in. On the other hand, knowing that he will give up something he had prided himself all these years mean that things will change.

"Baka magustuhan ko, maging bottom na talaga ako." He texted jokingly one afternoon.

I suspect that his worries spring from the pride that he has to give up. Being capable of taking the top and bottom position in a sexual engagement, I find being the catcher the more difficult role. The agony of the first stab is unbearable no matter how horny a person is. The ceaseless pumping, the deep grinding, and the eternal shoving of one's throbbing prick until all of it gets inside would be a humiliating experience, especially for someone who used to do the fucking all his life. Too bad for him, he sought my expertise and being familiar to that fulfilling pain, I told him to be man enough to get ripped apart.

"Kaya mo yan dahil masarap. Masarap dahil mahal mo ang taong kakantot sayo."

---

Now another friend told me earlier how upset he was after getting woohooed last night. I do not know what came to him when he took it from behind for he admits never enjoying the deed in the first place.

"Hindi nga ako tinigasan eh, saka parang na-poo-poo po ako."

His sex partner came first, and when he did, quietly stood up as if nothing happened and left my friend to get his own orgasm. This act made my friend ultra-ballistic. He confronted the guy who at the time cleaning himself and the cruel act of walking-out almost ended up in a fistfight.

---

I know its easy for intense emotions to run high when you let someone plunges you. Imagine the pride you have to give up knowing he will never treat you the same after your well-locked doors have been unsealed. The top, always the dominant, never has to worry of the wounds left after being forced open from within. The top, always the conqueror, never has to hide the emotional scars left, after being marked as the one accepting submission to a more aggressive partner.

It's the top who runs the game, for when the bottom does, he does it to shake away the attachment left from a previous impalement.

Others may question my belief about tops and bottoms, but when inquiries are raised about who suffers more and endures more,

It is always the bottom who stands out.

---

I twist,
_____turn,
_________and shrink
To nothingness, shot through
With bullets of your love
Till you are through.
Now lying on your back,
You read my eyes and see
Being on top has a price,
And it hurts, because nobody,
Nobody wants to be bottom.

Bottom, Ronald Baytan

Endings Of A New Kind

Mga bagay na aking haharapin sa pagdating ng bagong buwan:

---

bum sister doing nothing to find a new job.




half-brother suffering from an old and fatal illness.




family business still in peril (and on the verge of collapsing).



how to let a tiny enterprise take off.

---

Marami ang kailangan pagtuunan ng pansin at marami ang mga bagay na dapat asikasuhin. Subalit sa mga nangyayari ngayon, tila hindi ako handang maglayag sa malawak na karagatan ng buhay na aking kailangan tawirin. Sakaling ang hangin ng tadhana ay umihip kontra sa aking lupang nais marating, palaisipan kung saang dalampasigan nito ako dadalhin.

---

Photos taken from inside the Pacific Plaza Towers in Fort Bonifacio. Three weeks ago, a classmate from the Masters offered her place to have our second to the last essay writing workshop.

Describing her home as elegant is an understatement. My eyes have never cast its gaze to such wondrous opulence like what I've seen around me: Wooden carvings of Buddha from Indochina; silver dining set brought from London; fine linen draping over her rounded glass dining table and bottles and bottles of red and white wine from around the world stacked in her minibar. Never will I forget the huge forest mural clinging against the wall across from where I sat; and her state-of-the-art flat screen TV whose dimensions rival those of my double-size bed.

Lucky I am to be given such opportunity, for I know, it may never happen again.

And in times my reverie affords me a time for remembering, it will be the same memory I will keep playing over and over in my head in hopes that someday,



These still images wills me to claim them for myself.

Premature Ejaculation

There are things we will never learn and there are things bound to happen over and over again. For whatever it's worth, the constant cycle reminds us of events which are inescapable. No matter how we try to impose new changes, when opportunity arises, we embrace it for its familiarity. But alas, time has changed many things. Sweetness doesn't carry much gravity like it used to in the older days.

"I choose you because I want to meet someone human."

Gullibility, a flaw I readily admit I possess. It was my leaning towards gallantry that made him snap the bait. I knew what he needed - like most boys were in that place. He found a companion in me, and lucky for us both, we learned of our shared values which I am looking in a new partner.

The amazing discoveries urged me to do a full throttle: I will step my best foot forward. Had he never told me that he was a family man, an abused partner in his previous lifetime and a stick-to-one lover in a relationship, I would not allow myself to be drawn too close. Maybe I was merely battle-weary from strangling my cyberdemons to welcome his organic presence with open arms. I took care of him that night. I held his body against mine when he was close to wobbling at the middle of the road, thanks to alcohol; rubbed his back with cloth when it was damp with sweat; and lent my shoulders for his heavy head to lean on. I never saw him as a complete stranger for I felt our connection.

And so strong it was, I pressed myself too much just to become part of his life.

Maybe it was his closest friends' prodding that we should become lovers; maybe it was his after-sex sweetness; or maybe it was my grand vision of becoming a devoted partner that gave this illusion of a future between us. My views about relationship has become so erratic that it sometimes leaves me cold, and sometime leaves me with a burning desire to embrace another. The intensity of our moment shattered all inhibitions that I thought with all honesty, that there was a chance; that the path was already laid ahead.

When in truth, I might have been just a booty call; a gas station for lonely guys needing a boost of affection.

Day ends and I felt like being suspended halfway between heaven and hell. I was waiting for him to reply to the sweet text messages I sent. Sleeplessness; a body and a mind battered with so many fears and creeping doubts had left me catatonic on my way home.

Still, love may find its way after the deception. These gloomy thoughts, may just be a vent from all those years of discrediting the magic of a romantic union after all. For whatever it's worth, the premature ejaculation of emotions severed the ties binding me to my frisky leanings.

My absence from all hook-up grounds will remain in place. I have shamed myself in Malate twice and there is no reason now to go back for sometime. The raunchy consummation had left me no longer seeking intimacy for quite some time. I've been used up or filled, depending on one's perspective. If and ever my belief about booty calls, full-swig sweetness and bar scenes will only lead to further heartaches then maybe there is no use searching in those places.

Or maybe I should simply accept the truth which tells of too much giving losing its value after being rubbed over one person again and again.

No wonder for the first time, I didn't give a name to someone who almost, had me, giving up my fort.

The Sign Of Times

"Tumawag si Corazon kanina. Mukhang malaki talaga ang problema ng 'Sikyu Agency' ngayon. Dalawang tseke na ang tumalbog, baka isara ang account natin sa bangko. Wala na rin silang mautangan..."

- 11:30 am

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.

Kaleidoscope World

My earliest recollection of an Independence Day Military Parade at the Quirino Grandstand was of President Aquino leaving the podium after a very rousing Araw ng Kalayaan speech. As she was being flocked by dignitaries and government officials, the huge black speakers flanking the stage boomed with a familiar ethnic flute and tribal drum opening of a song by a very popular rapper. The crowds who have gathered across the parade grounds suddenly broke into loud cheers upon hearing the first few beats. In those days, the song was an anthem known to everyone. The rap song was in number one for the past three months and there were no signs of it being overtaken in the airwaves.

The artist was a sensation. He was in his early twenties, and yet the rap songs he played appealed to the young ones and adults alike. The kids (including me) would rap it in the streets, (where we would thump our feet and wave our small hands imitating the rappers signature finger-pointing movements); the teenagers would copy his trademark flat top haircut (including the peace sign etched on the scalp of their heads); and the adults would wear his baggy batik pajamas and monochrome camiso shirt (which by all standards were a very disastrous fashion choice. Andrew E and Michael V. were better off with their less baduy get-ups).

I remember how popular he was in those days. His song evoked a sense of pride and unity. "Mga Kababayan Ko," its lyrics include instructions on how to live a quiet and orderly life. It was played almost side by side with the National Anthem, and in every places around the country. Noontime variety shows even had contests where amateur rappers would imitate his rap style. Other local artists would change their music themes to catch up with the nationalist sentiments that abound. At a time when foreign pop music was threatening to overthrow the OPM songs, he was the lead vocalist of the struggle to keep the Pinoy artists on top of the music charts.

His sheer genius and artistic spirit allowed the ever-alienating OPMs to be absorbed by the minds of the new-generation masa, and be appreciated by a nation reclaiming its lost identity. He was also among the first artists to have his own music video rolled on MTV. The song on the music video was Kaleidoscope World, and though the details of the video were now forgotten in my head, the song defined my high-school life.

Though his stellar prominence may not be as shining as those of other local bands which benefited from his advocacy, he remains an icon looked up and respected by those who came after him. He held his presence steady - allowing the smooth transition from the Manila Sounds of the 80's to the entry of the first wave of Pinoy Alternative Rock Bands which include Eraserheads, Parokya ni Edgar, Rivermaya and Wolfgang of the mid-90's.

How unfortunate that after many years of being at the helm, he would fade into obscurity in the modern Philippine Music Scene.

His untimely death this afternoon changed all that. For once, he was remembered and in his passing, the rap songs and ballads he performed through the years once again plays in the airwaves of my memory.

---

When the news broke out this afternoon, it felt like a huge part of me was taken away. Now I know why.

Remembering the Master Rapper Francis Durango Magalona (4 Oct 1964 - 6 Mar 2009)

Every color and every hue
Is represented by me and you
Take a slide in the slope
Take a look in the kaleidoscope
Spinnin' round, make it twirl
In this kaleidoscope world

photocredits

After Me, The Deluge

"At least malaya ka na kapag wala na ako..."

When will my dear mother learn that there is no life after her passing; that I only wagered my human existence long enough to see her enjoying a comfortable life? I don't really care about my future; I don't even have dreams to pick up like a ripe fruit hanging from a tree. I live in the present, and if there are some things I look forward for tomorrow, those things are still within the time frame of her earthly presence.

I understand that she is just tired, exhausted and frustrated with the things happening to her. She complains of endless body pains, of regular medical check-ups and long-list of prescribed medicines she have to buy for her roster of illnesses. She worries about the growing debts of our Sikyu Business and my sister's resistance to do something about her bummed bliss. Mother has indeed grown old, for the last time I heard such pessimist remarks were from my grandparents when they were at the twilight of their age. Passing is imminent that I have already accepted, and no matter how I think about what lies beyond, the only thing I see is an end.

An end which I am ready to take whether I'd be called or not.

Today I declare an emergency Jomanian Holiday. I will leave the house in the morning to have my weekly spiritual fix (and pray for my sister and a couple of friends who will exercise their resolve to find a means of living this week) out there in the ridge, then go to the most extensive hardware store to buy those stainless steel safety rails for our bathrooms (because mom tells me that she cannot lift herself anymore) and spend the rest of the day having a mother-son bonding at home.

Hopefully it would cast away the gloom that has been a fixture in the house lately.

---

Last New Year, my sister and I had a bonding with my cousins over several bottles of beer. We talked about the lives we have and how we look forward to strengthening our blood ties as we grow older. When we talked about our mothers, (because our moms are siblings) many of them expressed uncomfortably at how their mothers take control or sometimes manipulate their adult lives. (and they are torn apart between living elsewhere and staying with the family only because they want to get out of their influence and try their luck being on their own) Me and my sister could not say a thing. We could not understand their grievances for we have already learned to put our lives in-sync with our mom's.

Now that I think about it, we would be left most vulnerable and destructive when she moves on.


*après moi, le déluge

remark attributed to Louis XV of France; used in reference to the impending end of a functioning French monarchy and predicting the French Revolution.

The Last Temptation of Jomania

"Do not do unto others, what others do not want to do unto you."

- Anon

"For there are different reasons why men cannot marry: some because they were born that way; others, because men made them that way; and others do not marry for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven."

- Jesus Christ, Matthew 19:11

---

The sun was barely up when I left home this morning. The day-long gwapo sleep I had yesterday restored my energy to its normal levels. It was well known throughout the Twitter Community how grumpy my week was and I felt bad about it. Sleeplessness had taken its toll and there were even times when my usually calm and controlled attitude was overtaken by my violent and carnal tendencies. Fortunately, mind control was able to put me at a distance away from those careless enough to cross my path.

Guilt ridden, I headed towards my refuge in Katipunan. Maybe what I needed was a spiritual fix now that I am feeling an imbalance in my being. If I let my destructive inclinations take over me, I might lose my hard-earned peace. Much as I was hesitant to set sail towards my destination, it was my will that lead me there. Let fate have my redemption, what matters is that I tried.

I arrived at Santa Clara while a holy mass was going on. It isn't my desire to attend masses especially if I find the man standing on the pulpit too lousy to explain the words he proclaim. But my time was short and I had to bask myself in any spiritual bounty I would harvest from this morning's expedition.

I sat on the pew which most appealed to me.

Now the word "appeal" is subject to further scrutiny. In my case, the pew which is most desirable would not be the one closest to the priest. Instead, the most attractive spot for me would be the one next to the cutest guy in the church. I'm just human for Christ's sake. If I'm a straight guy, I would most likely sit beside the most gorgeous lady around.

So that was the case this morning. I found myself seating beside a fair-looking Narcissus who, for some reasons decided to attend the early morning mass. All throughout the service, I tried my best not to look at his direction. But how can I resist a demon-looking, late-twenties stud sitting beside me, especially when he doesn't make any effort to put some distance despite my attempts to pull back.

The Lord's Prayer has concluded and it was time for the Rite of Peace. It is the part where everyone exchanges a sign of peace with one another. On my part, it will be the climax of the tension which began to build up the moment I sat beside the lean-bodied Adonis. I would have to look at him in the eye, scan the contours of his elfish face and have a fill of his presence which I may never enjoy again. Sometimes, I would like to blame my repressive nature for harboring twisted thoughts. If I was as hedonistic as I used to be, his closeness would never create any sexual tension that I would soon suppress.

"Peace be with you..." he answered. His eyes expressed disinterest. Maybe, what I felt was nothing after all.

The Eucharist ended with our arms barely a few inches away from rubbing each other. I don't know if my slight wobbling throughout the mass drew me closer or it was the other way round. His gravity was too strong that the only way to repulse my attraction was for him to leave. As I was preparing to start my weekly habit, he stood up to get something from his bag. All along, I thought he was just arranging its contents before leaving the pew. To my surprise he took out a green booklet and knelt beside me.

He had his novena to match my rosary.

It was difficult to focus on the beads knowing that I was distracted by his actions. Was his decision to stay a sign of his intention to reach out? Was his novena as genuine as my rosary in connecting with the Source? I may never find out. For as we were praying next to each other, another guy sat beside me. The look in his eyes and the way he smiled meant something. Instincts revealed its malicious intent but since I was inside the house of the Almighty, I brushed my nature and welcomed his presence.

Halfway towards the end of my second mystery of light, the eye candy to my left made a sign of the cross to conclude his novena. Meanwhile, the guy to my right wiggled closer putting me in a defensive position. He was invading my space so I had to turn my head and check what he was doing. Once again, he smiled at me.

As I was about to return to my meditation, he tried to break the ice by engaging me in a conversation.

"Excuse me..." He said pa-cutely.

"Ano yun dude?" I responded with slight disturbance.

"Favor naman... baka puwede mo akong ipag-pray." Now he was trying to be cute.

"Para saan?" I answered back, annoyed.

"Enlightenment."

Fine. Someone wanted a pray-over session. Had I known it would be used on me, I should have said the same lines to get the hunky Narcissus' attention earlier. I wouldn't mind praying for someone's soul. My only confusion was the person who solicited my prayers was inside the church. He could pray for himself and the almighty would still listen.

Confused with his favor, I said yes to his intercessions. He left the pew soon after and being guilty of my snooty attitude, I prayed for him. However, my troubles this morning has just begun. Barely into my fifth mystery of light, he showed up again with the sheer intention of pestering my moment of bliss.

"Seminarian ka ba?"

"Hindi... Siyanga pala, pinagdasal na kita." His face suddenly glowed after granting his favor.

"Teacher nga pala ako, etc. etc." Impressions tell that he is a man of faith. His introductions only made me wonder why he needed my prayers when his religious affiliations gave him a stronger connection to the almighty.

"So bakit ka nandito? Are you a brother, may community ka ba, order, etc."

"I'm just a normal person who happens to pray." Once again, his lousy attempts to communicate drove me ballistic.

"Wow. Pinahanga mo naman ako, bihira lang ako maka-meet ng totoong lalaki na nagdadasal." Gotcha, my instincts did not fool me this time. His unnecessary complements only triggered me to put thick walls between us.

"Dude, I'm praying. Can we just talk after I'm done." He got back to his senses, he quietly retreated from his assaults.

I do not know if he was trying to be very friendly but his careless actions would have got him a blow right on his face. You see, one thing that makes me really, really furious is when a stranger touches my things without my permission. As I calmly utter the last of the Hail Mary's, his hand snatched the Bible that I read at the start of every mystery. If not for my sacred promise to be a little less snooty this week, he could have raised hell at a moment's notice. Arming myself with infinite patience, I overlooked his transgression and focused on my prayers instead.

My prayers were drawing to a close and at the back of my head, I had an idea what would happen next. Much as I try to avoid hurting his feelings, compromises had to be made. It wasn't his fault that my appearance caught his interest. It's like the tables were overturned on me, had I've been more aggressive in pursuing the eye candy. Uttering my final prayers, I finally felt the spiritual link that I sought all morning.

"Lord I know that I'd be committing a lie if this guy continues to annoy me. I know he will so I hope you would understand if I would appear too aloof to accommodate his presence. Jesus Christ, upon reading the passages in the Bible had his snooty moments too. I will keep in mind not to be too harsh on him, and I pray that my actions would be forgiven, no matter how self-serving they are."

I made a sign of the cross, which was the same sign the pursuer was waiting all this time.

---

"So puwede ka ba maging friend?"

"Ayos lang. Yun lang naman pala eh." I said somewhat sarcastically.

"So bakit kailangan mo ng enlightenment samantalang mas malapit ka sa Diyos kesa sa akin."

"Wala lang, medyo naliligaw lang ako ng landas paminsan-minsan. Alam mo na, gusto kong maging straight ang buhay ko."

"Kaya nga tayo pumupunta sa simbahan para magkaroon ng kapayapaan diba?"

"Alam ko naman yun eh... Wala lang."

"So anong maipaglilingkod ko sa iyo dude?" I finally decided to cut the chase.

"Puwede ba makuha ang number mo?"

"Wala akong cellphone pare eh."

"Ganun ba? So paano kita makikita?"

"Tiyempuhan mo ulit ako dito."

Before we left the premises, he finally spoke about his sexuality. He confessed that he fell in love with men and women in different phases of his life. I rolled my eyes in anticipation for his final spiel.

"Ikaw ba, ayos lang sa iyo ang ganun?"

"Hindi ako nanghuhusga ng kapwa tao. Kung saan sila masaya edi okay lang sa akin." If he only knew, I was rooting for the guy who sat beside me before he showed up.

"Eh paano kung gusto kitang maging kaibigan, o kaya mahalin ka, papayag ka ba nun?" His remarks were flattering really, but I'm simply not into him. His lousy approach had already put me off.

"Pasensya na pero hindi ako pumapatol pare." Apologies for betraying the rainbow code. Even straight-acting guys like me have to turn our backs if it calls for self-preservation.

"Sana hindi yan ang rason kaya gusto mo akong maging kaibigan..."

He still insisted in getting my number while waiting for an FX to pass by the road. All his attempts were met with stiff resistance. Though I cannot deny that I underestimated his persistence, I was profoundly impressed by his gall to cross lines I would never dare step my feet on. Blame it on my pride, or some made-up situations where such attempts would surely end in humiliation. Point it on past rejections I never got over with, but no, I would not subject myself to such troubles especially now that I can easily send my fleet to any seas I am invited.

An FX bound for Cubao emerged from a corner barely after we arrived. Much as I would like to give him the pleasure to harass me for the last time, I had to go and head for work. Raising my right hand to hail the incoming vehicle, I bid my goodbye to the gentleman beside me. "It was a lesson learned," I told myself. "Had I followed his lead and did the same thing to the guy I came across shortly before he came, I would end up making a fool out of myself."

The almighty spoke to me this morning. The house of heavenly worship cannot afford to have a garden of earthly delights.

Monthsary | Hindi Sad Diamonds

Ang sabi nila, para daw tunay na maka-move on sa isang break-up ay kailangan ng closure. Sa kaso ko, matagal pa ang closure na iyon. Hindi pa nga ako handang makipagharap sa aking nakaraan eh. Masyado pang masakit ang mga ala-alang iniwan sa akin ni phanks.

Sa mga buwang lumipas, puro poot at sakit lang ang aking mga tinandaan. Masyado kong binaon sa isip ang mga dahilan kung bakit kailangan ko ng kalayaan. Nakalimutan ko na sa loob ng limang taon naming pagsasama, may mga sweet moments rin kami na nakaligtaang idagdag sa aking mga kuwento. Ang kalimutan ito ng tuluyan ay sobrang unfair hindi lamang para sa kanya kundi pati na rin sa akin. Mabuti na lamang at kahit paano, naging saksi rin itong blog sa mga panahong tunay ko siyang naramdaman sa aking tabi.

Nagkaroon rin kami ng pinagsamahan at ito ang aming mga kwento:

---

"It all began with a tight hug. I was experiencing some violent chills and he felt that my whole body was burning. He rose up and told me to roll to the other side of the bed. He then he returned to the bed and placed himself between me and the wheezing electric fan.

I told him that I am alright. The fever will soon dissipate and he should just sleep instead of worrying about me. But he was stubborn and restless; he rose up, went outside the room and then after a few minutes, returned with a huge mug of water.

"Drink this," he said.

Unable to stand up, he assisted me by placing his hand on my back and then gently pulling me up. I drank only a tiny portion of the liquid since my throat hurts. As I coughed badly, the rain started to pour outside. The skies were as dark as coal but his presence made me feel that despite the bad weather and the foul illness,

Everything was sunny and clear around me.



He then told me to lie down.

A few seconds later, he dabs a finger-full of Vicks Vaporub and rubs it on my aching back. His hands begin to move gently, squeezing every muscle sore that I feel. He is like a seasoned masseur, except that he is never a stranger. From my back, he worked his way towards my hips, then on my shoulders, my chest and my biceps until his soft hands clasped my hands and pulled my fingers until it pops. Occasionally he would kiss a part of my body, as if leaving assured murmurs on that part of the skin he kissed that everything will be alright.

When his massage has finished. I held his hand and told him that of all the parts of my body he squeezed, he missed one part that sought his massage most:

My front..."

A Massage To Remember
August 15, 2007

---

Perhaps, it is his beaming smile consoling me after we got into our little fights, or his simple views in life that keeps me attached to him. Probably it is in the way he remembers to send me sweet nothings, when my thoughts are focused elsewhere. Maybe it is in the contrast of our personality - he, being more extrovert towards the people around him and I, being more reserved and exclusive, even in the most familiar of crowds around me. We don't talk that much about our lives, but our connection is always open throughout the day. We don't share the music we play on the mp3 player, yet the TV channels we watched together could keep us in bed the entire day. On the sides, we are both loners. He may have a lot of people around him, but he never considers anyone his confidants - except me perhaps. I, on the other hand keeps all the trivial matters away from him, except the subtle things that would make us strong perhaps. He knows what weakens me and what keeps me strong, even if he is not aware of it. He loves singing pop songs in a karaoke bar while I cringe when hearing his music and wishes to be some place else when beside him at the same bar. He loves hanging out in the malls for hours, while the mere presence of bargains keeps me away from boutiques because of the material temptations it brings. If we have something we agree about, it's our common cable channel - Discovery Channel and National Geographic. We could stay all day in bed doing our "intimate" sports while the TV is tuned in to those channels. He would say "I love you" when I least expect it, and often in contrast, ignore me completely when I desperately needed his attention most. But it's alright, I am beginning to understand his way of thinking - that he doesn't entertain distractions the way I would like to be distracted all the time. I may have hidden resentment towards him, but his acts of sweetness and his initiative to make up first the moment his anger has subsided prevents me from gravitating towards complete hatred. I think our relationship is relatively odd compared to others, but it is that oddness that keeps us together. It may not be based on conversations or openness but because of the deep, unspoken ties that bind us together. Things still work out - and will still work out as long as he would not call the first shots of separation. You see, I never run away from relationships. My guilt and conscience would not let me do so. I am tested for patience and understanding. For reasons only known to him, he provides me with enough space to enjoy my own identity. Despite his complains about my tendency to dominate him most of the time, still he acknowledges my intervention over his personal affairs. After all, I end up being the problem solver when things fuck up. He may not be my ideal partner at the beginning. But with time and familiarity, I learned how to accept him the was he is and the way he will be. After all, we are involved in each other lives in one way or the other, that eventually such involvement lead to an understanding that beneath our own individual lives, we have always been tied as one.

SO
November 25, 2006

---

I can see the worry on my mom's face when he saw phanks, especially when she found out that Phanks brought a lot of things with him.

But being a good host that we are, she just ignored her thoughts. Besides, my sister would be gone for two weeks so its easy to make an excuse that Phanks would be staying in to keep us company.

However, for some reasons, my buddy told my mom that he just had a trangkaso, which worried my mom even more. That evening mother asked me not to let phanks sleep on my bed.

Which of course, I ignored.

For two days, Phanks never left my room except to eat or go to the bathroom. But he assured me that after he regain his strength he would go back to school.

The maids were quite nice to him as well. They never complained whenever phanks wore my shirt or tops, or whether he wore my shorts or used my towel. While at work, I called home to check whether my guest have eaten his breakfast or he skipped it out of shyness.

He became part of the house and everyone became used to him.

Live-In
February 21 2006

---

Dumating kami ng Malate Church ngunit sarado na ito kaya nagpasya na lang kaming magdinner sa Shakey's. Habang nagiintay sa aming hapunan, di ko naiwasang mag-open ng isang issue na matutuloy pala sa isang argumento. So hayun, nagdadate kami pero muntik-muntikan na kaming mag-away. Para maiwasan pa ang napipintong pagwawalk-out ng isa samin, sabi ko sarado na ang issue. Na bring up ko na ang problema, at wala na siyang maidedepensa sa akin.

Pagkatapos nun ay katahimikan. Wala kaming imikan habang iniintay ang aming combo meal.

Alam ko, pareho kaming badtrip at wala sa mood. Pero narealize ko na isa itong mahalagang araw para sa amin. Ayoko sanang mauwi ang gabing ito na may samaan kami ng loob sa isa't isa... na nagcelebrate kami ng isang napakawalang kwenta anniversary.

Tumingin ako sa kanya, tumitig ng matagal kahit maraming tao sa paligid makuha ko lang ang attensyon ng binatilyo. Nang mapansin niya ako't nagsimula na rin siyang makipagtitigan, hiniritan ko ang buddy ko.

"Happy Annivesary Pangga" bulong ko sa kanya. Ngiti ang isinauli niya sa akin.

Anniversary Night
April 21, 2004

---

Matapos ang trenta minutos, nagkita rin kami sa wakas.

Tama ang sabi niya, napakapayat niya at maliit pa. Parang David at Goliath ang pagitan naming dalawa pero malakas pa rin ang appeal ng maamo niyang mukha sa sakin. Kumain kami sa McDonalds bago kami magsimulang maglakad-lakad sa palibot ng Ermita. Ako pa nga ang tumaya sa kanya dahil alam kong deins niya kayang ilibre ako. Isa pa, kaibigan naman ang turing ko sa kanya noong mga oras na yun kaya balewala sakin kung man-libre ako o hindi.

Matapos naming kumain, naglakad kami sa Baywalk at nagkwentuhan tungkol sa mga nakaraang relasyon namin. Naikwento niya yung dalawang naging badi-badihan na parang ginamit lang siyang pangparausan samantalang siya naman akala niya eh pwede siyang seryosohin noong taong nakilala niya.

Ako naman, naikwento ko ulit, for the Nth time ang sentiments ko tungkol kay ex. Sinabi ko sa kanya na naghahalo ang pagkamiss at pait ng pangloloko niya sa akin. Bandang huli, narealize ko na masyado na akong nagiging OA sa pagkamiss ko sa relasyon namin ni Yul. Nasabi ko tuloy sa kanya na yun na ang huling beses na ikwekwento ko ang nakaraan ko sa sinumang magtanong sa akin...

Ang Lalaki at Ang Ulan
April 21, 2003
Reposted July 13, 2005

---

Limang buwan ko na tinatamasa ang aking kalayaan. Sa loob ng mga buwang iyon, di mabibilang ang mga pagkakataon kung saan maari akong magseryoso ng bago. Sa tuwing nararamdaman ko ang bulusok ng ibang tao sa buhay ko, bigla-bigla akong kumakambyo. Akala ko ay dahil ito sa mga standards na si-net ko noong huling araw ng November. Ngayon, tingin ko ay dahil ito sa hindi makakailang pakiramdam ng attachment sa aking nakaraan.

Hindi ko pinapangarap ang makipagbalikan. Subalit nakikita kong mahirap ang aking susuungin matumbasan lang ang lahat ng pinagdaanan namin ni Phanks. At habang tumatagal, habang bumabaon sa akin ang mga ala-alang kagaya nito, lagi kong iniisip.

Makakapagsimula pa kaya akong muli? Paano kaya ang taong aking iniwan, kamusta na kaya siya?

---

Naging ugali ko na ang pagsisindi ng tatlong kandila matapos magdasal sa Santa Clara. Ang ikatlo ay para sa darating - maging sino man siya - upang malaman niya na sa mga hapong iyon ay may nagdadasal para sa kanyang kapayapaan at kaligtasan. Ang ikalawa ay para sa lahat ng mahal ko sa buhay - pamilya, kamag-anak at pati na rin mga kaibigan.

Ang ang una ay para sa nakaraan - kay phanks - upang magkaroon siya ng lakas ng loob mabuhay ng malayo sa akin. Ang aking panalangin ay para sa kanyang kalusugan, kaginhawaan at tagumpay sa pag-aaral.

Higit sa lahat, ang unang kandila ay para sa kanya - upang ipanalangin na sana ay lumigaya na siya at makahanap ng mamahaling

iba.

In The Lull Of Hyperspace

It’s no secret that lately, I’ve been actively engaging myself in G4M and IRC. At times, it often comes to a point where I openly flirts with the guy I’ve been exchanging messages to. In most extreme cases, I even give hints that I’m interested in hooking up with them – just to run away from the loneliness and frustration I often feel lately.

The rift between me and him grows steady by the week – but I’m not really sure if he knows or he even feels it already. Perhaps I might be so good at hiding it, or he is just too insensitive to notice my grievances in us. It has relatively been a one way street most of the time – if I get any consolation, he knows how to reciprocate intimacy given to him – as long as he is not preoccupied with something else.

Ours is a deep one – he is a regular guest at home which, apparently exposes my preference to my family; I enjoy boundless independence under him – which I try to regulate by extreme means whenever I am alone; And he treats me like his best friend. He claims that I am the closest person to him more than his family.

We have been compatible in a different kind of level, that’s why we have been surviving until now. But lately, I am beginning to see the difference between the two of us. Sometimes, the imperfections I see in him, far outweighs the reasons why I should still stay.

Sometimes, it makes me contemplate whether there’s a sense of holding on to him, now that I am feeling more and more independent alone.

---

But you know what,

As I move my forces toward liberation, the more I hold on to the fact that we have been so deeply connected to one another, that such freedoms, whether it maybe achieved at all may fail sooner than I think.

The thought of him, living alone and facing the world all by himself with all his vulnerabilities still remain in my psyche. Whenever such thoughts stumble in my consciousness, a surge of old emotions begin to fill me. It reminds me of all the times I’ve been there for him when he needed me most.

And when he talks to me, and tells me all his grievances at the end of the day, the bitterness and hatred I feel towards him is suddenly being replaced by a need to protect him – to make him feel secure and better even at the cost of my own vulnerabilities.

I just don’t know… perhaps I am meant to love this way. Despite my strong views and advises I give to everyone, in my own playing field – where my vulnerable emotions is at stake, I tend to be less harsh and more patient. I tend to appear weak and compromising, for a person who has played a very important part of my PLU life.

I guess this is how you separate love from mere infatuation. Love tends to be more patient and more permanent, while infatuation tends to come and go – no matter how strong and deep those feelings u felt were while under its spell.

Love is like an old mango tree that has been bounded to the land for a very long time. It doesn’t get uprooted easily, no matter how many flood currents and mudslides strips away the things that hold the tree and the land together.

Infatuation may never have such kind of binding.

As for me and him, the threat of unbinding still remains. It may grow worse in time... it may also lead to harmony we have never felt before. But no matter what happens, and no matter where we would lead eventually.

One thing remains.

I know in my heart that I love him more than I have ever loved myself.

And if such time of partings would happen,

I am pretty sure that this would be the first time I would really feel hurt. I may never rise again from such kind pain.

Take A Bow

It could have been a humiliation in epic proportions.

Imagine being reprimanded by a self-proclaimed supervisor about your performance, being shouted at, scorned at, and tell you how your work sucks while being heard by everyone from the second shift. Imagine being asked to explain why your other colleagues work better while you remained stagnant in your performance. Imagine taking all the blows the supervisor can throw at you, as you wonder why you get all the blame while others were doing the same thing like you.

In those very tense moments, I cannot help but wonder why there are some things not equal in this world.

In such situations, or embarassment, Im sure others would have threatened or prepared to send a resignation letter already. Others would have cried or sobbed on their way out of embarassment; perhaps while walking alone going to the nearest jeepney stop half a kilometer away from your office.

I took them all, and hid all the hurt and pain when I went home alone.

---

Because it was my mistake in the first place.

It was triggered by a lapse of judgement this morning. I took a nap without logging off from the system, thus letting 5 callers wait for 15 minutes or so. It was actually a habit I have never gotten rid off since our early months in the new office.

The supervisor said that among the operators under him, I was the one who always let my callers wait for more than 5 minutes on a regular basis.

I admit such shortcomings - most of the time, I was preoccupied by looking at other websites, or answering callers in the other service. I tend to be distracted easily at work, specially when I am left idle for more than 2 minutes without doing anything. Most of the time, the shift from one account to the other distracts my moment.

I could have easily addressed this situation by focusing on one account alone, however the problem is I've been so used to juggling multiple accounts that working only in a single account bores me.

---

Honestly, I've become more and more inefficient this past few months.

Perhaps, I have never really gotten over the week long hiatus I had ever since my grandmother passed away. Perhaps too much exposure at G4M completely took my focus off. Other than that, it was the routine - the routine I've been used to, which is the key to my success in gym is also the same thing that destroys my performance in the office.

Because I have taught myself to work in my own pace - and now that things have become intensely more competitive in the office, I remained laid back with my work.

---

The experience completely broke whatever pride and confidence I had with myself. Yet, at the same time I took it as a wake up call. Although, what pains me is the way he executed his reprimands (being shouted at and insulted in front of everyone you don't know) , I guess I have no other choice but to take it professionally. After all, despite the hurt and bitterness I felt during the talk, he reached out - whether out of good faith or otherwise to me.

Indeed it was a long lonely humiliating walk going home. For several moments, I even thought of preparing a resignation letter just to get back at him. However one single thought overrided those unproductive thoughts I had on my way home. It finally dawned to me that I could not turn my back on this one without proving to him that he was wrong, that no matter how long it would take I could improve myself out of my own initiative.

Besides, I thought such sudden career move would break my other routines as well. I've realized that if I don't change my attitude towards criticisms and pride, it would never change no matter where I plant myself.

It's not yet my time for me to go.

So here I am writing this crappy blog entry. While licking the wounds of humiliation he inflicted upon me.

And to remind myself of my own little folly.

For The Yaya Sisterhood

How do you find happiness:

When you exert an effort just to make a phonecall to your lover, only to ignore it and make an excuse that he's so very busy that he even can't place a miss call during his lunch break.

When you feel that you're being used. That your lover doesn't appreciate you or your efforts and all those things he have said seemed to be superficial - that it begins to appear that they were uttered just to appease your feelings.

When you realize that it was you who tries to hold on; that it was you who tries to make it work despite the rifts that are beginning to separate you from him.

When you feel that everything he does for you becomes conditional.

---

I once posted an advise in Pinoyexchange about a guy who had issues about his uncaring and unappreciative boyfriend.

I told him that he should think about himself first before he waste his life to his lover - who doesn't seem to realize the sacrifices his buddy is giving to him.

I told him to do everything in his capacity to make himself feel better; That he would have a life beyond the borders of his lover's.

Because at least, his freedom would have been mine. In his possible actions, I might feel my own liberation.

---

But enough is enough.

I have known to strike back when I feel pain, I have been a fighter and I will always be one.

Like what I've said,

When Phanks doesn't see me.

Others might will.

In my quest to make myself feel better.

To make myself feel needed, even just for a little while.






This afternoon, I decided to strike back.

I'm A Lonely Little Petunia (In An Onion Patch)

And when I close my eyes, I see myself working in some small but high-paying company somewhere in Makati. One pleasant afternoon, I would go out of the office and see the sun's rays reflected on the stained windows of the skyscraper across the building where Im working. The day was relatively productive, and day by day, I am becoming more of an asset of the company. Ever since I started working with them, I made sure that I am at the forefront of every project they have been involved with.

For I have taught myself to become an achiever; someone who is willing to take all necessary steps just to be ahead of the rat race. And when the end of the month comes, I would be proud to
bring home a bacon, which rivaled those I am getting now from the two companies I am involved with. I would never sleep again fearing the day when we would finally loose the last remaining strings that holds the last empire my father built when he is still alive. This is the dream I've been aiming for since I found my own independence. Somehow, someway I would make sure to achieve it, before the dream, this dream fades to a reality I would never like to happen:

To grow old, realizing that I spent my whole life wading
in such existence I never planned to stay for a lifetime.

---

Would I be nearer to my goals this year? Would I finally hit my target I have been aiming for since the first time I started working for another company? It's been two years and countless attempts already since I began this enterprise. So far, my existence remains in limbo. The work I'm doing right now is almost synonymous with playing. We all know that we never have any concrete future or real growh in what we're doing, we even don't know if some other companies would understand what job we are doing. Almost every month, I've been constantly looking for ways to appraise myself. My mom has even reached the point where she could not take anymore the news about my seasonal jobhunting, which I often do whenever something scares me or I feel that my family's security is already been compromised.

I admit that I have been constantly in search for something, some career that would make me grow and feel like an achiever. But in the past three years, I'm afraid I haven't found my contentment yet.

---

This afternoon, I was again invited to meet someone that could provide me with the job I've been looking for. They were located in Makati, near the exact spot I've been dreaming of working ever since. They offer a much more respectable salary than what I've been earning right now. And most of all, the work they are offering relates more to what I have completed in college. It is about writing and what they are looking for is someone who has the passion to write.

The interviewer asked me about the most favorite topic I wanted to talk about. Obviously it's all about gay stuff. I've been talking about those things ever since this blog has started. But, I could not easily do that. I won't compromise my sexuality this time. So instead, I told him that I'm interested about current events. Being a wikipedia boy and an avid fan of CNN, I'm pretty sure that I would have the edge in writing about subjects that relate to it.

He gave me a test in which he would choose a website and write an article about something he found interesting. A few minutes of browing and then he discovered a news about a market roof that collapsed in Russia. It was a weak story. But nevertheless, he asked me to write a shorter article about it.

---

To tell you honestly, I have been writing ever since. I even guess that no matter how I deny it, writing is my most reliable talent. But this afternoon, it proved to be useless. The article which I wrote during the exams was one of the lousiest one I have written so far. It was very formal, unnatural and worse of all, I wrote it in a situation where my mind is not comfortable to think about the things I would say.

It was too artificial and no matter how the interviewer said it was nice, I think it was the worst. In my long years of journalism, I have never fully realized that writing is all about expressing ones thoughts and feelings about an experience that happened. The reason why I feel so free in my blog is because I can bare my soul on to it and nobody would even care. No one would bother telling me how my grammar sucks or how my style and mood sickens them.

Here, I could express my raw emotions, powerful and undefiled but when I wrote the article this afternoon, it appeared to be written by a robot.

---

I'm not hoping anymore that I could pass their screening. But it was the closest one I've got so far in reaching my ultimate goal. Nevertheless, despite the promising salary and growth, taking such new career would simply destroy the world I have used to live in. It would destroy my sleeping habits, my resting habits, my work out routine and most of all, I would once again adjust to new people I may not get along with in the end.

If ever they give me a chance to prove myself, I think I would have a hard time letting go of the things I've been so used to doing for the last several months.

Perhaps, this is not my time yet to move on. Perhaps, there's a better job awaiting for me. I just hope that I could achieve whatever aims I have set for myself this year.

Those aims are the ones driving me to find my own direction even though my final destination remains unclear at this point in time.

- From the unpublished blog entry, Taming The Tikbalang,
February 24, 2006

---

After more than a week, the boss in that company sent me an e-mail again. He was asking me if I could write other articles aside from current events - which I can easily do so, since I am relatively flexible with my writing. He also told me the failures of my style - which is too bland or too boring sometimes. I know it because I am my worst critic.

His e-mail proves one thing. He is giving me a chance to redeem myself. In fact, he was asking me to write something else so that he may once again check my style and grammar - a sample from this blog would do the trick.

Pero bakit ganun, ngayong ako'y napakalapit na sa aking inaasam, ngayon ko naiisip ang mga bagay na maaring mawala sa akin, kapalit ang mga bagay na gusto ko nang ikamatay, makamit ko lamang?

Confusion reigns in my heart at this moment. Now that I am quite confident that I could take the new job, I could not easily surrender the one I would be leaving.

The friends I would be leaving

The free time and days I would loose

The security and comfort I am enjoying

The routine I have been used to after seven months.

Ganun pala, achieving one's dream entails a lot of sacrifices.

The Day They Took Away Happiness

It would have been a normal, typical Tuesday morning.

After sliding my time card in the bundy clock, I would have logged on to our system so that the bosses would know that I am already ready to answer the pending messages. Next thing I would do is open my Yahoo Messenger to send my ritual goodmorning message to Pipay early in the morning. Most likely he would greet back "Morning Pogi." or, on frisky mornings, he would just ask me. "Nasaan ang lalaki ko?"

After a small chitchat with him, I would open a link to pinoyexchange.com to check out the homosexual movements in that online forum. Most of the time, I would see Pipay's post, either contradicting someone or praising some cool stories shared by some newbie homosexual guy. In between work and chat, I would have shared my thoughts as well; either I would have reinforced Pipay's statement, or in most cases, just minding my own business alone - until of course he starts to join my "party."

When I get bored, I would open my limewire to check some new MP3s to download. However, since most operators were either playing online games or just chatting in their respective IM service, somebody would complain that the connection is slowing down. And I would be forced to close my Limewire, since the first casualty in the morning shift, would always be me.

Because I handled three accounts.

By 9 am, Redguy would have logged on as well. Like everyday ritual, he would greet me "morning" to announce his presence. During lean days, we would have chatted all morning, while the rest of the ODDERs were having their own conference in the other window.

Most likely, Pipay would once again mack my system just to remind me to find him a guy to meet up - or spend time with. Automatically, I would open a link to G4M - to shop for guys and oogle on their muscular or toned bodies - which lately I am try emulate myself, while seeking numbers and pictures which I could send to my friend.

An hour before noon, I would have probably checked my production status. If I feel that I wont reach my personal quota for the day, I would announce to everyone my brief isolation from the community. For 3 hours, I would produce more messages than I could produce in two hours early in the morning, that way, I would go home happy and fullfilled, that my routine has been strictly followed for the day.

---

Unfortunately, it won't happen anymore.

In a surprise move, the masters suddenly reformatted the computers and made sure the operators would only click the icons they are required to use. My limewire, which I treasured for seven months has been completely eradicated.

The Yahoo Messanger, which had been my connection to the outside world; my link far beyond insanity was taken down as well.

And worse of all, we could not delete anymore the websites we have visited while working during our shift.

That means somebody could check out the websites I've been through today.

That means there's an 80% chance somebody could read this blog from office.

That means my sadness and disappointments would probably reach, even the highest authority in my company.

And that's good. Because the changes were too sudden and too swift for most of us.

Since I've been doing my job and delivering my expected production - with or without those distractions.

Why change the environment now, since most of us were happily doing our job with those priviledges.

---

Nakakalungkot minsan na as we grow bigger, the things we cherished when we were smaller gradually vanish before our eyes.

I sincerely wish, that I would never see the day when one morning, I would just simply realize that I'm already alienated in my work.

That my own company took away the last remaining happiness and distraction in me.

Motivation

I sent someone a pm message in G4M like this.

It was meant to be a friendly one. A blatant show of admiration to some guy I really look up to.

Message:

For some reasons,
your coolness attracts me.
I would like to be like you when
I become 29.

Astig.

Guess what, I found out this morning that he blocked my account. I never got even just a mere appreciation or compliment from what I said.

Sabagay ganito naman sa mundo ng mga bading eh. I could have done the same during my own time. Siguro the only difference is that I won't do such an extreme measure to a guy who was just admiring me. It was a harmless post. Not even something that would sound like Im trying to hook up with the guy.

And for that, someday, I would get back at him.

Such good motivation, now that Im trying to break my body and force it to become what I really wanted it to be.