Confessions Of Arclight (First Part)

July 17, 2006

Dear XP,

I mentioned in our little conversation several weeks ago the importance of looks among people like us. You are absolutely right. Appearance, especially bodybuilt plays a big role in the consideration of meet-ups, hook-ups, relationships, and even in the establishment of an order in the "world" we choose to dwell.

Harsh, but the truth is, the more good-looking and masculine you are, the more guys are get drawn to you. It's a fact of life I have to accept now that I am putting myself on display in the meat market of Guys4Men.

Unfortunately, you know that my current built could not sustain someone's attention for more than a millisecond. I've been ignored several times and these rejections crushed me. And I wasn't looking for hookups mind you, I was just trying to be friendly with other guys like us.

To get back at those who ignored me, I thought of having an experiment. I would create an account and put myself on a hottie's shoes for a change. I want to experience how it feels like being rich, sexy and good-looking. I also want to experience having a command of the market, where no-one will ever reject me because of my built. I know you think I'm delusional in attempting this experiment.

But rest assured bud, when this is over, I will learn no matter how insane the idea is.

---

The experiment began two days ago. While browsing Friendster at work, I found the account of my newest favorite radio station, 107.9 Underground Radio. The FM station plays house and electronic music night and day. It's like clubbing at BED or Government the entire week without the hassle of going to the said places and paying the pricey entrance fee. Anyway it's just a new radio station but their list is full of beautiful people.

I checked the profiles that were linked to the radio station's list of friends. One profile that caught my attention was a photo of a guy with a tribal design tattooed on his back. He was standing on a beach with his sexy back exposed to the camera. His ripped torso alone was so yummy ha, what more if he showed pa his face.

I opened his profile to check more about my potential guy. Goodness, he was so gorgeous I could have wet myself in an instant. Imagine bud, his pectorals and shoulder blades were perfect. He had pointy, high-bridged nose and a strong jaw that made his face appear commanding. He was a Chinito and was God's gift to big boys like us. Unfortunately he's married and have kids at a young age of 23. Oh well, he's one guy that exists to be admired and be drooled by the likes of us.

I already had an extra account in G4M since last week. I was suppose to do an experiment about a very ugly guy. (the photos I used were from Ms. Macaldo that was cropped and mutilated by a collegue) I wanted to know how the nagmamaganda folks from the website would respond to his flirty private messages.

However, I got bored with the experiment because the photo-cropper did not give me a new batch of pictures to add to my experiment's profile. Besides, nobody responds to my private messages, not even the most effeminate ones. After browsing the married guy's profile on Friendster, a new idea sparked inside my head. I would use him as a fodder for my new experiment. Immediately, I scrapped Ms. Macaldo's traces on my new G4m account and replaced it with the photos of the guy I found on Friendster.

The married hottie suddenly became an "unsure" tripper.

---

The new photos were approved this morning. On the profile's first two hours of being "parked" in Guys4Men, tens of private messages from other members came rushing in. Most of them sent messages of admiration to my guy's flawless half-naked body. When I responded to their messages favorably, they would send back replies laced with sexual overtones. Some were even so aggressive from the start that they would not beat around the bush and solicited hook-ups at 9 in the morning.

What's flattering about using the guy's profile was that those equally muscled guys from G4M, who would outrightly ignore my own profile's messages suddenly were the one sending messages to my experiment account. I was so overwhelmed by their admiration that I can't help but be flattered myself- even if I don't own the pictures.

To give credit to the married guy who really owns the pictures I "borrowed," I made sure that his "character" would remain dignified and noble, even if I used it in a sleazy website. I made sure that he won't appear choosy or harsh to other guys in G4M. Honestly bud, I felt guilty yesterday while uploading his pictures.

But this is something I want to experience myself.

For the first time, I felt how it was like to be attractive to the eyes of everyone.

And what I've learned from the experience is something I never expected.

---

single
has a five year old son
has big businesses in mandaluyong
lives in rockwell center
drives a customized lancer evo

what can i say, life has been good to me
and i hope to share it with you.

-tobecontinued-

Mrs. T.

"Magandang tanghali po ma'am," would be my first greeting of the day when I leave the house to go to work. The person I greet is often seated in a monoblock chair surrounded by her grandchildren near our compound's entrance.

She would nod to acknowledge my presence. You know that she's in a good mood when she engages you in a small stalk starting with the question, "Ngayon ka pa lang papasok sa trabaho?"

"Opo," I would politely reply.

"Bah edi maganda pala ang oras mo." She would smile enthusiastically. "At least hindi ka gumigising ng maaga."

It would be the beginning of a casual explanation about my work and my shift, which begins at 2 in the afternoon. Sometimes, I would tell her that I leave early to attend my gym classes or do some favors for my mother. Even if she and my mom rarely talk, they both have high regards for one another. That is why when I mention my mother when we talk, her face brights up the moment I tell her my mom's current activities.

Our small talk would occasionally be broken when her grandchildren show up to ask some petty favors. As the kids pester her, I on the other hand would be lighting a cigarette I bought from her son's Sari-Sari store. After receiving complementary words from her, I would bid farewell only to repeat the same routine the following day.

I call her Mrs. T. She is a plump woman in her mid-sixties with a sagging face, thick wide lips and graying hair. I do not know much about her except from what our neighbors have told me. They said that she used to be a teacher in a public school not far from where we live. A few years ago, she retired from teaching after doctors discovered that she had a Kidney problem. Now she's on dialysis and despite her affliction, she's able to handle her children like a true accomplished mother does.

The last time I saw Mrs T. was last week. She was standing next to her apartment's door and her steely small eyes was fixed at some imaginary object in front of her. I would have greeted her that afternoon, but knowing that the decision regarding our complaint last summer was served by the Baranggay that same week, I decided to pretend not to see her. I thought that her withdrawn face had a connection with what was written in the order.

However, whispers tell of a conflict between Mrs T. and her husband Mr. T. Apparently, Mr. T is having an affair with a robust lady who used to be one of her daughter's pedicab driver. This slut, who I often see horsing around with other pedicab drivers a few blocks away from our compound is the bane of Mrs. T's failed marriage. I've heard from our maid recently (who is the official tsikadora of the compound) that the T couple had separated. I didn't delve much about the details, but I knew that it was a welcome news knowing that Mrs T. can live in peace once the drunkard Mr. T leaves the house.

Unfortunately, some things do not happen the way we thought them to be.

I found out the truth two nights ago.

Coming from work only to find my sister wearing her underwear while being slumped on my bed, I became furious. However my mom's breaking news had turned my bursting anger into unspeakable grief when she told me that Mrs T. passed away yesterday afternoon. The reason for her death was sketchy at first. Mom said that it was related to some heart ailment that Mrs. T had complained since early last week.

Things only got clearer when I attended her wake this evening.

According to her eldest daughter, the T couple sold their family home to one of their children a month ago. When Mr. T received his share amounting to two hundred thousand pesos, he suddenly went missing together with his passenger jeep that used to be the family's only source of income. The slut, who used to roam the neighborhood to hound Mr. T had gone missing as well. Mrs. T immediately figured what happened and despite her recurring fever, she searched the entire neighborhood for the missing Mr. T.

Having chills and all, she asked people for any clues that would lead her to her husband and his witch. Apparently, no one knew where they were staying and yet everyone claimed that the new couple had cell phones that cost ten thousand each. The slut was also seen wearing expensive stones when she shows up in the neighborhood at ungodly hours of the night. These rumors, fanned by people who enjoyed following the scandal involving the T couple, was enough to make Mrs. T furiously mad at her husband, that she even went to the police station to complain about Mr. T's philandering activities.

"Paano niyo idedemanda ang asawa niyo eh wala naman kayong ebidensya," said the officer as related to me by Mrs. T's eldest daughter at the funeral. Apparently, the officers were in a jolly mood at that time, which made the poor Mrs. T the laughing stock of the whole precinct.

Come Monday last week and she was picked up by one of her daughters. Her condition then had turned bad to worse. The following day, she was admitted at the Ospital ng Makati. Her doctors said that Mrs. T had a severe case of urinary infection and needed an immediately dialysis to recover from the infection.

Money was never a problem, even if Mr. T who showed up at the last minute admitted that what's left of his earnings was a mere 200 pesos in his wallet. His children can shoulder the hospital expenses after all.

But it was Mrs. T who surrendered the fight.

Perhaps, out of severe depression at her husband's grand betrayal, she lost the will to live. I do not know much about dialysis, but I've heard before how risky the procedure is. Mrs T. suffered a massive heart attack while her blood was being filtered by the machine. She was pronounced dead at 2 pm yesterday, surrounded by her five children who rushed to the hospital to be with their mother at her final hour.

---

Her passing was a splash of cold water that awakened me from my deep slumber. Life is indeed fleeting and we must spend each day as if it would be our last. I've heard the saying a thousand times before, but it only hit the right tune last night - when my mother told me of Mrs. T's sudden passing.

People often tell me that I am good, kind, compassionate and all those adjectives that point towards goodness. I don't pick fights or openly complain even if it meant being pushed around or being exploited because of my passiveness. I have reasons and I must say, I'm involving the divine for my actions. In the years after my dad's passing, I've learned to put myself in a precarious, uphill position, so I will always know that life is a trade-off.

And heaven watches our every move.

In life, I only wish for three things.

First is to live long enough to serve and look after my mother.

Second is to never let anyone dear to me suffer a death so tragic it would leave me traumatized for life.

and third is to never live a life of guilt knowing that I've hurt someone so bad and that person would carry the grief beyond the grave.

For we only get to taste life once. Might as well savor the best of it rather waste a lifetime spawning hate and grief to others.

Mrs. T is at peace now. She passed away surrounded by people who truly loved her. When I viewed her remains this evening, she wore a smiling face that nobody could explain how it happened. I do not know if it was the work of a master mortician but her presentation was so appealing, even those who are afraid of the dead would find her jolly face comforting.

As for Mr. T, no matter what his reasons are for leaving his wife, will never give him peace. In fact, I can already smell the stench of retribution awaiting him and his young mistress. A few months from now one will be left behind. The abandoned would seek his children, who would all ignore him. They will never forgive the one who caused their dear mother great pain when she was still alive.

The abandoned would drift in some nameless gutter. He would become one of those vagrants we often see in some bangketas when we pass over them. He would die a cold, lonely death - perhaps maybe spending his final breaths calling his dead wife's name, asking for forgiveness. There would be no reply of course, because this is how karma works.

We often think that we could get away with our actions. Sadly this is not the game played by the universe.

For whenever we cause great pain to others, sooner or later life gets back and restore the imbalance done by our choices we do with our lives.