The Railed Home

I looked at the wall clock which was just a few feet away from my satin-covered bed.

It's too early and yet I'm bored. I mumbled as I looked at the wall clock again.

What to do? What to do? What to do?

I was there, lying, doing practically nothing but breathe in oxygen and breathe out carbon dioxide. This is not my definition of being productive.  

Being the OC that I constantly am, I got up, made a few ideas on what to do in my head and then went downstairs.

My mom who I immediately saw along our spiral staircase gave me a look of intimidation, she sensed as if I'm up to no good again.

Me: Mom, I'm not going anywhere. I swear. And with that statement I raised my right hand and looked her in the eye to connote my sincerity.

Mom: You ought to stay in the house, you've been gone in and out of this house as if you were a boarder or a bed spacer add to that that your room is messier than of a juvenile delinquent teenager.

Me: Mom, I'm not a teenager anymore, I'm not a juvy, I know my responsibilities, I know how to take care of things, I will clean my room just not now, OK. 

Mom: You told me that a million times but still, you haven't even swept your room in what, two weeks? It's a complete signification how lax and irresponsible you still are. Your room is what you are as a person.

Me: Who said that mom?

Mom: Most of the people, psychological researches and experiences.

Me: They're full of baloney.

Mom: Don't talk to me like that mister.

Me: It's just a hearsay mom, how gullible can you be to actually believe that idea. I'm sorry but that idea is really pathetic. I'm not someone to be judged just because my room is untidy or unkempt.

Mom: But it shows how you take care of yourself.

Me: Silence.

Mom: You see, I was right. Is something going on that I don't know?

Me: My life doesn't revolve in this house mom, my life is my life and what I do with it is up to me and not yours to decide.

Mom: How dare you say that in front of me!

Me: I'm sorry, I'll be just at the living room, I'll be browsing the net. I'm fine mom, I'm fine.

She hissed at me while I tried to bow my head and pass along our narrow staircase.

Truth is a lot has been going on but she's my mom, she's not that old but, I am, in terms of dealing with things. I ought to know what should or should not be done.

I was nearly, nearly the computer table when my dad chanced upon me. Being the ever police interrogator that he is, he didn't let this chance of seeing me go to waste.

Dad: Where were you last night?

Me: Uh, at a friend's house dad, we just hanged-out, typical stuff.

Dad: What time were you able to go home?

Me: About 5am, I kinda lost track of the time, I was so sleepy then.

Dad: What typical stuff are you talking about? Liquor, drugs, sex? Those typical stuff?

Not again!

In my most patient mode.

Me: Dad, what I'm talking about are watching DVD's and just eating. Having a great conversation, catching up on good ol' times. None of those you mentioned. None at all.

Dad: I see, I see. This friend of yours, where does he live?

Me: Just nearby dad, a stone's throw away.

Dad: Have I seen him before?

Me: You haven't, he hasn't come to our house yet.

Dad: Why don't you invite him here?

Me: What for?

Dad: I wanna meet this friend of yours. Is there something wrong with that?

I'm feeling hostile now.

Me: None at all dad, I will try to invite him here.

Dad: Is he working or studying?

Me: He's still studying dad.

Dad: What course and where?

Me: I have no idea, I will try to ask him soon.

Dad: Since when have you known this guy?

Me: About a month now. Friend of my friends here. Look dad, I'll be doing something else. Do you have any more questions?

Knowing my dad he usually has more questions up his sleeve.

Dad: Oh sure, go ahead.

I went to the computer table wondering, what just happened? My parents are so weird.

I switched on the power button.

But even before I saw the monitor lit up in black background for the processor to kick in, my older sister went to the living room area to blab about her demise.

Older Sister: You haven't cleaned the litterbox for the longest time, you're always out of the house and worse, you don't buy any cat food anymore!

Me: Wait, wait, wait, I don't clean the litterbox? Let me just remind you that I do the cleaning most of the time and it's as if I do it on purpose, I'm sure you know as much as I do that I have plans as well and I go to clubs, enjoy my life.

OS: That's BS! I don't care, the truth is, you don't clean it anymore and I'm stuck here taking care of these cats.

Me: Who wanted these cats in the first place?

Silence. She immediately left without glancing back at me.

Now that that's taken cared of let me just go back to my seat and have some quality time with me and the computer and just for once, I don't want any thing or anyone disturbing the hell out of my solitude. But as I sat down on the chair for that much needed peace, here comes my younger sister and her high-pitched reasoning.

Younger Sister: Why do you always have to go somewhere?

Me: Because I want to...

YS: And do you know who takes care of Misha? Who cleans her poop? Who mops her pee? Who bathes her? Who takes care of her?

Me: You do.

YS: Yes! And I get stuck in here while I take care of this stupid dog while mom orders around and then nags me for things.

Me: Then why don't you go out too?!

YS: Because I don't want to.

Me: Then that's not my problem anymore, if you wanna stay at home, it's your choice and don't even blame Misha, it's just the way it is, she's still a puppy, if you want, give her to the rightful owner!

YS: Crap! She doesn't even clean the litterbox!

Me: She just told me she does....

YS: I do all the work here! I do it by myself without getting help from you guys! I'm like a slave here!

Me: You're barking at the wrong tree here. Tell that to mom, she's the one who gives orders to you.

YS: But that's it! No matter how I try to decline, she always has a way of making me do it.

Me: Tell it to her, not me. 

YS: When will you clean her poop?

Me: Once I'm done with this. Pointing to the open window of my blog.

YS: You take such a long time at the computer, the electricity's gonna be soaring high again.

Getting a little wee bit pissed off.

Me: Look, it's as if you're the one paying for the bills, you don't, heck, you're still in high school, scram! You know me how I get mad, you don't wanna see me mad, or, do you?

YS: Fine, But I'm telling mom about you.

Me: Fine, fine, tell her everything you know about me.

I sat down, recollected myself, breathed in and out as if doing a Lamaze technique for birthing and finally focused my attention on the open window in the computer.

What am I gonna blog?

What about experiences? Nope, too cliche.

What about insights? Nope, too many already.

What about songs that you listen to? Nope, that's way passe.

What about quotes from authors? Nope, too witty-sounding.

What about heartbreaks? Nope, I've moved on.

What about current social situation? Nope, the media covers that already.

What about my viewpoint in the upcoming National Elections? Duh.

What about the fashion trends? Nope, I have a separate blog for that. And I can't think of anything to write anyway.

What about why you blogged in the first place? It's too early for that, Dammit!

What about people you love? Uh, mushy. I hate mushy stuff.

What about people you hate? Nope, I have my friends to tell those.

What about random things in your life? Like what? Like how people always want to make you admit that you are gay? Nope, maybe sometime if I feel like blogging that.

Then what are you gonna do with that open window waiting for your entry?

I opened some tech blogs and hopefully get something inspirational but alas, they provided me nothing more than envy and a lot of drooling.

I went to the cabinet nearby. Maybe I could look at photos of the chunky old me and blog about how I battled a lot on accepting who I am today?

That's a good idea! I said to myself.

I opened the cabinet which was collecting dust from all corners of the space. It was like scavenging to your past, skeletons you thought you could just throw in your closet, I mean, in the farthest reaches of your closet and just stay there, never to be touched, never to be opened, never to be seen.

And so I was wrong.

I looked at a family portrait taken more than a decade ago, we were all there, almost. Me, my mom, my dad and my older sister, my younger sister wasn't born that time yet... I scrutinized the photo more closely, I realized, I was smiling, not that smile you show when somebody takes a photo of you but it was more of candid, spontaneous, the old me. Just by looking at the photo for a mere minute, I noticed that something trickled down my left eye. It was a tear.

Whaaa? What is this? Why am I crying? Was it something in the picture that made me shed a tear? I honestly have no idea. Maybe, maybe yes, maybe no, maybe not.

Nevertheless, at that simple moment with myself and the portrait, I thought of something, a brilliant one, one that will showcase my masterpiece, one that will define who I am, one that will let go of my negativities and ruminations!

Yes! A blog post worth entering, a blog post worth posting, a blog post worth reviewing! I can feel the rush of the adrenaline in my heart, the much needed sugar rush flowing from my body. It's exhilirating! And at the same time completely out of the blue, but what the heck, I am a blogger, the world wide web is my oyster!

(Insert evil laugh here)

I returned the portrait back where it belongs: in the murky, dark, lonely place of our cabinet. I closed the cabinet, sealed it completely with my vow never to open it again and went to the computer again.

I stretched my hands as if I'm Mozart doing the most wonderful masterpiece in the world, a symphony worth hearing by billions of people.

And as I neared my hands on the keyboard, my euphoric state decreased, the monitor seems to be blurring for no apparent reason, everything seems to be blurring for no apparent reason.

I went screaming with fear but no voice came out of my mouth, I tried calling someone for help but no one was at home, I tried going out of the house but it seemed to be locked from outside, I tried going up to check if I can go out the window but I can't open it up.

My eyes went from blur to haze to darkness in a matter of minutes. My body in total disconnect with my actions, I don't know what to do! I don't know what to do! I keep screaming but all I hear is my voice, nothing else.

Then, I heard a voice, a resonating and calm voice. 

Wake up... Wake up... Wake up...

I woke up, with a woman in front of me, she looks decent, clean to say the least.

Were you having that dream again? She asked.

What dream? I replied. 

Still with a bit of terror in my heart I placed my right hand on my chest, it's thumping, I'm palpitating.

The same dream, the dream that you've been having for more than six years. You, a family, a home, a portrait. She placed her hand on my shoulder. She said.

It's going to be OK. She then added.

I looked around, everything is different.

Then I realized that, I have no identity. All was a delusion. 

All was a delusion. 

And There He Goes...

Monday 23:00, our residential house.

Unknown No.: Hey, how are you doing?

Me: Kinda busy with work, how are you?

UN: I'm not busy anymore. Where do you live again?

Me: Who are you anyway?

UN: CJ. Guy you met at O Bar, remember? Where do you live?

Ahem...

Me: You forgot where I live?! I live in Parañaque.

Change a.k.a from UN to CJ.

CJ:  When will we bond?

Me: If I'm not so busy anymore. 

CJ: My Graduation's coming up.

Me: That's great, when?

CJ: It's in May.

Me: Where do you study?

CJ: Somewhere in UBelt. Let's meet!

Me: Where in UBelt?

________________________________Nothing Follows______________________________________ 

Prone to be Alone?

I think we're special, I know we're special, I feel we're special. We have special needs and wants that a heterosexual doesn't. We have a culture of our own regardless if you're effeminate, straight-acting, in the closet, and any other descriptions listed under the word Homosexuality.

One thing bothers me, are we more susceptible on living the life as an individual? I know, I know, here I am again with my queries on being gay but one can't help but think. This is me, I think a lot, I rant a lot and I analyze a lot, that's why a lot of people find me queer in its simplest sense and I respect them for that.

Whoever said that no man is an island mustn't had any sexual encounter with the same sex. The dynamics between a heterosexual couple and a homosexual couple aren't really twilights apart but it is quite different. Most of the heterosexual courtships are done in public, you know what I mean. But, as for us, courtships or at least the initiation of it is done in private, so private that the bed is an integral part of it.

This is common to us. I admit it, when I was still starting out, I didn't even think that sex would even be involved but as time, person and experiences go on, I noticed that this is becoming a trend and no, I didn't ask my lesbian sister if this is the case with them. :)

I didn't mean to be so upfront with this question. It's just I'm a person afraid of what the future holds to someone like me, a man who falls so hard in love then WHAM! falls out of love faster than the fastest bullet train in Japan. And don't even get me started on temptations...

So yeah, the life of a gay guy in the modern society is tough, complicated and complex and even though a lot of my gay friends tell me it's just a state of mind, I wouldn't completely agree with them.

The Bear in Me

I was born to be a bear or so I think I was. Being a couch potato in my early childhood and pubertal years made me realize that I do a lot of sitting, lying, yawning and occasional turning from side to side to prevent bed sores. What can I say, I love sleeping, it makes me refreshed and relaxed and more so, invigorated. Hibernating is an understatement.

However, as of College life came it became more prominent, more noticeable, more lengthy and it caught my attention.

Was it because of my bad diet choices?

Was it because of the weather?

Was it because I lack sleep because of (assumingly) studying for long hours?

Was it because I think too much and my brain wants to rest?

Was it because I'm regressing to infantile years wherein more than 12 hours is needed in order for the body to feel replenished?

Whatever the reason, I still sleep too much.

Take this for instance: it was an afternoon class starting at 13:00 and being the lunch whores that we were, we do eat till our hearts content and our bulges grow to enormous proportions.

We were at the room even before the lunch break ended. The professor came in right on time and shucks, lecture has to pursue. 

Being on a carb-diet during College years, I barely eat poultry and meat. I have lessened my intake of those and up until now, the human flesh is another thing though I have cravings for those every now and then. Hahaha! Anyway, carbs are primarily brain food, they are the suppliers of energy not just to the brain but the whole human system, they nourish from the organ systems down to the cellular level. 

My point is, too much of it can easily make you drowsy and sleepy which can make your academics very risky.

The professor, a tall woman with long curly hair reaching to shoulder level is a very patient one, being a nurse in a hospital, it pays that she has the experience to go with her concept for us to learn more, know more and grasp more. Jargons are more or less part of the learning process but nevertheless, still understandable.

And the torture begins... 

There are three types of solutions: Isotonic, Hypertonic and Hypotonic. They are indicated for different types of cases. Isotonic as what the name suggests is equal part solute and equal part solvent used mostly to keep the vein open after venipuncture or surgery procedures. Hypotonic is less solute than solvent, ergo, cell swells up in order for rehydration to initiate. Hypertonic solution on the other hand have higher solute concentration, when cellular dehydration occurs particularly major burns, this solution plays a key role in maintaining homeostasis.

Oh, the horror! The horror! And the time! The time! It's my nap time.

And so, bit by bit, slowly but moving ever so surely, I went to silence mode. The attentive me gave in to the call of Mr. Sandman, his song had that hint of tranquility which was so irresistable. He conquered my innermost thought of having a power nap in the middle of the discussion. Bah! Stupid concept! I don't need her to learn! My mind is more powerful, I can learn by myself! Bwahahaha!

And so my ears went pseudo-deaf, my eyes went nearly blind, my attention span did not span longer anymore and my arms plopped down on the desk chair who was singing praises for the act.

I acted as if no authority is in front, so egoistic of me. My seat mates tried to nudge me back to reality but the sand sprinkled within my eyes were powerful enough to make my head plop down on the desk chair as well.

That's it, I zonked out, unaware of the discussion, unaware of the topic, unaware of the topic, unaware of the authoritative figure in front. 

The power nap was a success! It was a 30 minute rest worth remembering because after her discussion she gave us a quiz and what do you know, I still got a high mark! So much for burning eyebrows for late hour study sessions.

P.S. I take back what I said, I had to study the whole night just for that concept. Arrrggghhh!

And yes, I still doze off every now and then because I still believe I am a bear. A neon pink, fuzzy bear.  

Insignificance

Why do people want to out you?

The reason is still unfathomable.

Of Wanting, Not Having and Comparing

We know we always deserve the best.

But,

Most of the time we end up with nothing at all. 

Supraliminal

"Homosexuality is an Illness."

This is one of the most significant statements I have ever heard from a man of faith, a priest to be exact. 

And the story goes like this:

I went out yesterday to Ayala Makati, being the non-conformist Christian devout that I am, I actually hesitated to hear the mass at Greenbelt 3 after watching Alice in Wonderland (which was utterly disappointing from my point of view). 

Anyway, as I walked past the pebble-y path towards the church, I can already hear the priest's preaching. He was making a sermon about how corruption is an accepted act, from those in the municipality towards the upper hierarchal level.

Oh no, not another topic like this. I am very full of it: the politics, the power, the struggles, everything. I said to myself while I stopped to hear more.

When suddenly the word Homosexual came out of his mouth like a firecracker lit up during the Chinese New Year blasting its way up towards the sky with a thundering noise and a sight to behold but, the opposite was just what I imagined.

Here I am, hearing a mass in order to be somehow be cleansed and to learn more from the words of wisdom of the Almighty One and there in the center of the House of the Almighty One is a preacher who disdains, no, he scorns, refutes and laments the idea that gays are normal people in the society.

I, am a man of diplomacy and good civil state, but, right then and there I wanted to blow his head off and tear him to bits and pieces but good thing is that I have my date to keep my patience intact and my rage to a controllable level. 

The priest further explained that gays aren't moral and people are just tolerating us because we have studies from Psychology and Sociology to back us up.

I beg to disagree, father. I strongly disagree.

His whole mass made me queasy and I really felt awkward not because I'm corrupt, not because I'm gay but the way he delivered it, how he made those statements, how he preached about gays, he made us feel as if we're not meant to be born OR if our parents knew that we were going to be gay then why not consult a physician to prescribe something in order for us to be healed.

Honestly, the feeling was different when you just hear it from people that priests or people of supposedly more faith can actually say something like that.

At the end I was able to compose myself with all his blabbering and tongue-lashing at my/our sexual preference. Indeed, it was a mass worth hearing, if World War 3 is your thing. 

Another Expected Interrogation

The Head Doctor of the DSWD Medical Services visited yesterday, he was asking a lot of questions to the Medical Officer there, my direct Supervisor. He is the very observable type, truly meticulous and keen, he was observing the whole place as if choosing a dream home for him and his wife. 

Medical Officer: Sir HD, this is P. P, this is Dr. HD, our supervisor.

Handing my right hand to shake him.

P: Hello sir, a pleasure to have finally met you. And let me just say that the staff here are wrong, we don't look a-like, you are way, way more handsome.

Head Doctor: Nice meeting you as well and they are telling the truth.

MO: Sir, he is working here as a volunteer nurse, actually, he already renewed his contract with us because he likes the institution so much.

HD: It's nice to know that, how has it been so far?

P: I love the Institution sir, the place and the people are really great. I'm learning a lot from them. 

HD: By the way, from what school did you graduate?

P: *&%, sir.

HD: That's where I graduated as well.

P: (At the back of my head) This is going better than what I expected. Go slink your way to a regular position!

HD: Are you still familiar with the procedures? Are you updated?

P: Not much now sir, I'm focusing on Psychiatric Nursing.

HD: Don't just focus on that, you have to be a generalist, you have to be great in every concept. As for now, these procedures are of utmost importance like intravenous insertion, nasogastric tube insertion, medication administration, blah, blah, blah, yatta, yatta, yatta. In the medical field, we have to be updated every now and then because our field is changing from time to time.

P: (Oh, an early morning sermon) Thanks for the tip sir. I will keep that in mind. (Grrr!!!)

HD: Might I suggest a Blue Book which is a very, very vital informational book both for doctors and nurses. I have already told MO to purchase one.

MO: I tried searching at a bookstore sir but there is none from where I've looked.  

HD: Have you tried looking at the mall nearby?

MO: I haven't sir, I will by lunchtime.

HD: P, it's really a helpful book, you can accompany me later if you want to.

P: Sure sir, I would love to. 

HD: I'll just talk to one of the Head of the Social Services Dept. drop by in a bit and then we'll go together to the bookstore.

P: What time do you want to go there sir?

HD: Lunchtime. About 12.

P: Thanks sir, see you in a little while.

At the strike of 12nn the heat is raging, my pores started crying vehemently and sweat is now creeping from my nape towards my sacral area. Time to drop by the Administration Office.

I walked in towards the Social Services room, knocked and saw HD talking to one of the Heads. He signaled me to wait outside and I gladly obliged.

A few minutes passed and he came out the room.

Finally! I thought to myself.

We walked past the Office to the guardhouse and crossed the street, everything is going well when...

HD: You look like someone who loves fooling around.

What??? Can he smell me from afar? Do I really smell fishy in a not so wholesome way?

P: What do you mean sir?

HD: Do you have someone right now?

P: I don't sir, it's hard to commit right now.

HD: But I'm pretty sure you had a lot...of girlfriends before.

P: I never had any ( having girlfriends are off my list on what to do with my life).

HD: Still a virgin?

P: Yes (to girls, that is).

HD: (Chuckling) Really now.

P: It's true sir (still a virgin to those clams).

HD: So, you haven't fooled around?

P: None at all (when did I ever fooled around? Oh yeah, a week ago at O Bar). 

HD: Well, I hope this doesn't offend you.

P: Not at all sir (I had worse questions, yours is just a meager 0.5%).

HD: I have been hearing a lot from chat sites, a lot of people are looking for a one night stand. Do you chat? 

P:  I had been chatting back when I was still in College (are you looking for a one night stand too? I could help you).

HD: The internet seems to be the access for some online fun.

P: I couldn't agree with you more sir.

HD: But you had experience from others, right?

P: None sir, none at all (Hey, I just couldn't tell the guy, he is after all the Head of the Medical Services).

HD: Oh, I see. Well, it was nice talking to you.

P: Me too sir, hope to see you soon (and I hope none of those interesting questions again).

I was able to buy the blue book that he suggested and we parted ways, he had to go to another DSWD Institution and I have to go back to the clinic to finish the rest of the day. 

Another day of keeping who I am, will this always be the case? A hanging question that I, myself can only answer. 
 

Anonymity...

So as to keep my real identity a secret, I hibernate in the world of blogosphere...

Numbers

185 (lbs.) - was my heaviest weight to date. A high school junior then

150 (lbs.) - was my weight when I stepped as College frosh

17 (yrs. old) - when I came out as a certified Pink Ranger 

17 (yrs. old) - I had my first man to man encounter

5 (times) - I eat in a day

3 (times) - I go to the gym in a week

2000 (pesos) - is the gym fee for a quarter

1700 (pesos) - is the amount I already paid 

6 (of April) - will be the end of my quarterly membership

2 - is the number of siblings I have

4 - is the number of serious relationships I had

5 - is the number of flings I had

1.81 (GB) - is the memory accumulated in my Ipod for music files

1.21 (GB) - is the memory accumulated in my Ipod for video files

119 (lbs.) - was my lightest weight ever (grrr!!!)

135 (lbs.) - is my current weight

2 and 1/6 (years) - I have been going to the gym

12 (o'clock) - time I usually sleep

4 (o'clock) - my ever dreaded wake up time

9 (hours) - time I stay in the volunteer program per day

100 (hours) - time I need to accumulate in order to get a certificate in the program

6 (people) - staff nurses who supervise me everyday

11 ( of September) - one of the most memorable experiences I had

11 ( of November) - my birthday! Woohoo!!!

7 (times) - I've been to Bed bar

Nth (time) - I've been to Malate

71 (days) - I have got to lose 10 pounds

71 (days) - is the start of Philippine Fashion Week! Yipee!!!

1 and 1/4 (years) - longest relationship so far

4 (days) - shortest relationship so far, hope nothing shorter though

4 (months) - in deepest contemplation I have ever done

3 (months) - realization sank in like the Titanic voyage that my ex and I will just be ex

3 (phones) - I have lost in my existence, yet

10,000,000 (times) - I have been pissed off 

3 ( persons) - number of crushes I have in the gym

21 (days) - before I go to another gym, sucks, I know

8 (years old) - my maturity level now

17 (fellow bloggers) - As of this post. I thank thee y'all! 
 

Just Because...

I told you I'm openly dating and you're telling me about the concept of having a lasting relationship and co-habitating?

Whoa! Slow down there cowboy, slow down.

Dude, I barely know you and you barely know me.

Malate is a place of anonymity, of alternate personalities, of deceptions, of lies, of unsaid statuses, of finding acceptance, of finding the call of animal instinct, of finding that perfect one...for the night.

You're too aggressive with your ideas, an assertion that turned me off. Maybe, it's just not the right time. I do mind because I'm not looking for a commitment anyway.

True, you were nice but that's that, you're nice.

I went out last night thinking I had a date, yes it was a date, a date with a friend that ended great. But of course you were thinking of something else, paranoid by the fact that I do what you can do with just any other guy.

Sheesh...funny that you're at a place like that when you're looking for a life-time partner. Truly, truly paradoxical.

I have learned my lesson well not to date guys I meet there and you should have known that from the start. 

Looks can be deceiving, let's just call it that. 

Something to Ponder About

"My job is jester, not advocate...I'm striving to be an example of normalcy." - Neil Patrick Harris

Honestly, I do not understand his statement.

Why Not?

Saturday, 3:30am. O Bar Malate, Manila.

It was J's birthday last Friday so what better way to end it with a bang is to go to Malate. By the way, there was an event at Bed which we went to earlier but the crowd, surprisingly went in early (because it's free entrance if you get in before midnight) and went out early. The Pink People scattering on the streets at 3:30am is unusual not unless it's the White Party. Anyway, J, CA, SatC, William, Tails and I might as well eat breakfast since we really thought that the night is over for partying. J texted KS who is at the O Bar. After a few minutes, KS welcomed us in front of the bar with his ever, friendly disposition, him and J started talking while me and the other guys also started a conversation. After a few minutes, J tagged us along to go inside.

J: Come on, let's go inside O!

Us Guys: What are we gonna do there? It's already morning and most of us are nearly dead drunk.

J: It's my Birthday, come on, I'll treat you!

Us Guys: Oh, fine.

Come to think of it, it's technically still his birthday and we might as well join him. We went inside and the place is really, really crowded, like a cockpit stadium on a high stake derby. Pun not intended.

The last time I went at O, was when it was still free to enter, that was 2006, my first time in Malate which was a Tuesday night, which was awkward, which was the wrong time because Bed is not open on that day.

Anyway, the bar is filled to the rim, it was really hot and humid inside which makes you want to strip off your clothes.

KS introduced us to some of his friends, most of which I forgot to remember the names but what the heck, I'm not good with names, although there was someone who I got interested in, his name is CJ. We got into a small chat and it was fun, cool guy and very amiable.

Me: Do you go here often?

CJ: No, not really, KS and I went to a party and I was dragged here. I actually have work by 9am.

Me: Oh no! Why don't you go ahead and sleep, you have to take your rest.

CJ: No, I don't wanna do that, you're still here.

Me: (brushing my long,silky,wavy hair) Hahaha! CJ, come on dude, it's really late.

CJ: Your partner must be very lucky.

Me: How'd you say that?

CJ: Because he met someone as cute as you.

Me: (again, brushing my long,silky,wavy hair) Hahaha! CJ, stop it. 

CJ: But it's true.

I neared his face and went to embrace the guy, ahem, I had to, that stupid Blue Frog made me tipsy and a bit disoriented and a lot sleepy. I think the embrace was a good gesture for a place like that and he didn't complain so I guess that's a good thing.

CJ: Are you sleepy or tipsy?

Me: Both.

CJ: Aw...come here, sleep on my shoulders.

Me: Thanks but I really just need to go home.

CJ: Where do you live?

Me: Down South. And you?

CJ: San Juan.

Me: Too far!

He just laughed.

I hugged him tighter, because I badly need to rest and my head is feeling heavier than before. He supported my arms and hugged me as well.

CJ: Can I have your number?

I fished inside my pocket, handed him my phone, inputted his number and returned it to me.

I typed his name JC.

CJ: It's CJ.

Me: Sorry, badly need to get a good rest.

CJ: That's OK.

He handed me his phone and I typed in my number and returned it.

CJ: P, right?

Me: Yup, that's P.

He typed in P Baby.

Hiatus

According to Wikipedia it may refer to:

a break or interruption in the continuity of a work, action, etc.

Last Sunday I went jogging again after more than eight months of keeping my running shoes in our shoe rack and letting it rot to death. I just missed the good ol' days when I feel the wind brushing against my cheek and just breathing controllably which makes me feel good. You see when my Ipod got drenched in my own sweat (yes, I know it's disgusting) last time, I never bothered jogging anymore because I have no entertainment to carry along with aside from the very seldom cute joggers I quickly glance whom I have to boldly ask their schedules but, still, with their erratic jogging days pattern, I might as well stop and do something else.

Ah, yes, I forgot to tell you that I jog in a cemetery, not really ideal to hook-up with someone nor is it ideal to jog in the evening or very early morning but the calmness and peace you encounter there is something I don't want to replace soon. And yes, I live near there it's literally a jog away. If you know where that is, come join me soon! 

I didn't do any warm-ups nor stretching, I jogged halfway from our home towards the cemetery or if that creeps you out let's just call it a park. I jogged at a very light pace because I know that if I go faster, my legs will become sore in no time and I am predisposed to Osteoarthritis by the way. So, there I was doing my own thing, minding my own business, singing I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas when suddenly from afar, I saw this guy wearing a yellow top and jogging shorts, in fairness, he was still afar that time and I can already see that he is good-looking, lean, tall and chinito, yum! But of course I didn't mind him (much) the first time I went around, I just don't do that kind of business when I'm working-out.

Note to self: You are doing your cardio, you are doing your cardio, you are doing your cardio. 

Second time I went around, I saw him again, fate is such an understatement. Haha! I glanced longer than usual and got more attracted but still didn't bother making a slight move.

Note to self: You are doing your cardio, you are doing your cardio, you are doing your cardio.

I jogged around again for the last time because I am now feeling a bit tired and I am already huffing and I have to go somewhere by eight o' clock so I hurried and hurdled the last stretch and what do you know, it's him again! The guy who makes my weak knees get weaker and my heavy breathing become heavier. Oh! This is the moment to actually smile at him and maybe get a good response! OK, guts be with me! I prepped my mind and bolted my inner courage to make or break something... he was jogging nearer and nearer, I was constantly reminding myself that he doesn't know me so what the harm?

Note to self: He's mine, he's mine, all mine! Get away from him you pesky female and feeling female joggers! Get away! 

He swooped around the corner like a vulture to a carcass but, I wasn't able to even look at him. 

Hey, I may be flirty and I admit that but maybe, this is just not the venue for that. This isn't just the right venue. I jogged past him and as the sun finally set, I ran towards the exit of the park thinking that maybe he will be there again by next Sunday. And I hope to be ready by that time. I just smiled faintly and went home. 

By the way, my EFFING legs are killing me! My legs were aching so badly yesterday that I was feeling feverish and had body weakness that I had to drink an anti-inflammatory medication just for it to subside. 

So much for supposedly joining the Superbods Run.

The Out List

When I, somehow, went Out to the world, I kept an imaginary checklist on who I will tell my sexuality about. Let's see...

Parents - Conservative background, not really religious in a sense but that's already implied and they haven't confronted me about that one yet (hint, hint, my Mom still has hopes that this is just a phase). Mom, seven years and still in a phase?

Relatives - OK, one of my Aunts know because, well, she has two gay brothers and she can sniff any queer from a 10km. radius but I don't think most of them will understand anyway so scratch the idea. 

Friends - They were the first to know especially my Best Friend who's now in the US, I don't care, they like me for me even though it was hard at first, sorry, I was in denial before I came out. And yes, I did tell them first of that I'm a Bisexual shindig.

Workmates - I won't admit. I'll let them be the judge on who I am. And besides, is it really necessary to tell them? Will that make me more or less of a person according to my gender preference? Will telling them imperil my profession and work ethics? Will a gay be discriminated just because they have a social stigma?
  
Cousins - Some of them already know and most of them already have an inkling, being in a clan that are predominantly male, it's weird that you're one of the few bachelors in the family but they will have to live with that. And oh yeah one of my closest male cousins is a homophobic so I might not tell him. 

How'd I know? Let's just say he was telling us that showbiz person BA shouldn't be acting too tough on his show because he is a patron of a gay bar, so, at the back of my head I was, WTH and WTF. I couldn't argue with him, it's not the right time, we were having a small family reunion. I don't wanna ruin my day just because of that.

He generalizes people and I just hope that someday, his mind will be more open to a lot of things. 

It's definitely, assuringly and completely OK to be gay as long as you don't step on anybody. 

My OUT List isn't really perfect, the checklist wasn't followed mainly because people still wants to hear the answer they wanna hear from me, but I know very well that they won't get it.

Do you have an OUT list? 

Got Big?

Tuesday, 10:30am, Shangri-La Mall.

I accompanied my Mom because she had to do something there. I don't know what it was but it was work-related. Anyway, we got into a little argument because we were looking for Healthway but she was being so stubborn and very persistent that she was convincing me that it's not located at the 5th floor.

Mom: It's not there, I know.

Me: I know it's at the 5th floor. Have you been there anyway?

Mom: Yes, I have been there once and I know that it's not there.

Me: Mom, believe me, it's there, I may have been there just once but I know and I am pretty confident that it's there.

Mom: Wanna bet?

(I wish I did! That could have been a Topman shirt I've been ogling since last month!) Damn! 

Then from our place on the 3rd floor she went down to the 2nd floor, I didn't bother following her, my instinct told me it's at the 5th floor so I trudged my way to the 5th and what do you know? It's really there! It's really there!

Time to rub it on my Mom's face. Hahaha! So I texted her...

Me: Mom, Healthway is at the 5th floor, I told you so. You just wouldn't listen.

A few minutes later I saw her going up the escalator and I gave her a sarcastic smile, I know I won this fight.

She went inside Healthway and I roamed around a bit, I was looking at the stores and I saw a Folded and Hung nearby. 

I have to admit, I am a Big, Huge, no, an Obsessive fan of Topman but since the nearest would be Robinson's Galleria, I don't have any choice.

I was a fan of Folded and Hung, back when I have no idea what Topman, Aldo or Zara were.

Folded and Hung shirts are, for me, really good and the designs are still great but their sizes are a tad too large for me. But, it's not a sin to browse even when you'll not purchase anything, right? Because if it is, then thwack me with a fork, drag me to hell and call me the greatest sinner.

Nonetheless, I went browsing through the men's line, looking at some of the shirts, checking each and every design, the construction, what material was used, how much is the price, you know, very carefully sifting through apparels like any other man does to get the most bang for the buck.

Since I have no other itinerary that day, I took my time going back and forth on three clothes: two plain white, long sleeve shirts and a blue, plaid, short sleeve polo shirt. The shirts were all in a size 1 (small) so I opted to ask from a sales person if they have it in size 0 (Extra Small). The lady smiled at me and took the shirts from my hand and looked inside their inventory room, after a few minutes she told me that the long sleeves doesn't have any size 0 in their store but she cheerfully handed me the size 0 of the blue plaid shirt.

Yipee! I am so liking this shirt, I think I'm going to buy this after I try it out.

I walked towards the dressing room, silently singing the song Bad Romance's Bridge: Walk, Walk Fashion Baby, Work it move that Bitch Crazy..

Then I locked the door, took off my dress, uh, black shirt and tried it on, I buttoned it from the top to the bottom...

Something seems peculiar, different, I'm having a hard time breathing. 


Ow Eym Dyi to the nth power!
 

Loose Grip

Remember when we last talked how I wanted to get back to you?

Remember when you said that you don't know if you still can?

Remember when I said that I'll try my best?

Remember when you said that you're still not ready?

Remember when I said that I am prepared for that?

Remember when you last left me a text of a pseudo-kiss and imaginary hug?

Remember when I wanted to do just the same but in a more personal way?

Remember when you got sick and stayed at home all day watching The Avatar?

Remember when I surprised you and bought you oranges to make you feel better?

Remember when you reacted to that because you hate, hate, hate surprises but still I pursued?

Remember when I wanted so badly to meet you up at a mall?

Remember when you reciprocated when I handed you three Krispy Kreme Donuts?

Remember when I was so pissed off because of that?

Remember when you wanted to make up for it?

Remember when I truly appreciated that so much?

Remember when you got so sickly and wanted to have someone accompany you?

Remember when I felt dread that time?

Remember when you were to schedule your check-up but was afraid?

Remember when I said that I'm going to be there for you? 

Remember when you were scared on the outcome?

Remember when I told you that I'll stick with you?

Remember when you kept postponing and postponing?

Remember when I got so worried thinking?

Remember when you got hospitalized?

Remember when I had no idea because my phone got lost that night?  

Remember when you got so sarcastic about that moment?

Remember when I apologized, I could have done better?

Remember when you just miffed at my explanation?

Remember when I got hurt because of that?

Remember when you were already decreasing your texts to me everyday?

Remember when I always ask how you are?

Remember when you would always, always say: I'm OK?

Remember when I wanted to hold your hand again just like before?

Remember when you wanted to avoid holding my hand just like now?

Remember when I watch the days go by with you in my mind?

Remember when you flooded yourself with work just to get by each day?

Remember when I asked if you had a date last Valentine's Day?

Remember when you told me you had no time for such nonsense ideas?

Remember when I was waiting for even a simple Hello from you?

Remember when you don't do that to me anymore?

Remember when I held your hand so tight I wished it wouldn't cease?

Remember when you held my hand so tight you wished it wouldn't cease?

Remember when I felt that this ain't going forward anymore?

Remember when you would slightly lose your grip?

Remember when I would slightly lose my grip?

Remember when you suddenly released your grasp? 

Remember all those?

I hope you did.   

My Peanut Butter Bank

And because of a crippling slash nearly comatose slash half-dead bank account.

And because of a volunteer program that left my pocket deeply holed which I can run my fingers across.

And because of an allowance that's insufficient to provide my daily caloric needs thus resorting to either raisins or pan de sal.

And because of my purchasing impulses that made me look and feel like a poor man  fashionista.

And because of my weekly agendas of passing through various hospitals with the use of what money was left from my allowances.

And because of an entire week I had to wait till I can go back to my volunteer work which left me in a no money, no honey status.

And because of my addicted state of communicating to the social world of mine using a Globe Prepaid Kit.

And because of needing to reload every now and then to connect with these people.

And because of my mom's principle of saving-up-for-something-hence-I'm-not-giving-you-anything.

And because of a not fully paid gym fee.

And because of a different diet I have even though I eat almost anything thinking.

I have resorted to a Peanut Butter container as a start of my savings. 

So what? It's a Skippy anyway. :)   

Reaping the Fruits of Maturity

Life is like a bottle of red wine, it gets better with age.

Remember this adage from way back yore?

It tries to connect Age with Maturity with the use of a figure of speech. A Simile.

Does Maturity really come with Age? For me, it doesn't anymore.

I used to think it was but after having been all through this whirlwind of past romances and romancing; rejection and rejecting; recollection and recollecting. I got through.

It was devastating to say the least but I've picked up the pieces of my broken heart, mended it together, still has small bits and pieces scattered and small holes to be filled up but at least it's healing, it's recovering, it's recuperating. And I have to thank the people who helped and supported me for that.

Anyway, why do I think that Maturity doesn't come with Age? Simply because I know it doesn't.

Sure, you might protest the idea, you might even hate the idea but the fact remains that I don't believe in it. You see, most of us think that as one gets older, it provides us with the wisdom and the knowledge to make it through life with grace and will power. Most of us think that getting older makes you an adviser to a pupil, a mentor to an apprentice, a teacher to a student.

But, don't you think it's more appropriate to connect Life Experiences with Maturity? Come on, think about it, no matter how old you are, what age or year you were born, if you lack experience, you will never be able to grow hence maturity issues arise. 

The term Tabula Rasa, clean slate, blank tablet, unused condom, whatever you wanna coin it. Sounds familiar?

Our minds are of nothingness formed into an intricate weave of complex thought content and thought process. As experience heightens, adds up, and stacks together, a person learns from these and makes the best use of the knowledge learned. The clean slate is being written by sensations involved. Think of it as a 16GB flash drive being pummeled and bombarded by gay porn and fashion music until filled to the maximum.

Look, I am not trying to delve into Philosophy nor provide a lecture nor sermon, all I'm saying is that a person matures with the help and use of Life Experiences. And not because of Age.

People, well, more appropriately people who think they know me say that I don't think according to my age, that I'm mature when it comes to handling topics, discussions, group sessions, gossips, hearsays, eavesdrops, conversations. Hahaha! Just kidding. But the fact remains that supposedly, I don't think my age.

Heck, I'm still immature in my own way because I know I still lack experience, I still have a lot to be fed with, my mind, is still open to a lot of things and I have to admit that. I'm not someone who thinks that Immaturity is a bad thing. And even if I turn 50 if I'm still lacking experience, it wouldn't matter, I would still be the same 20 plus old person, with the same way of thinking, with the same type of attitude, with the same lack of maturity, minus the libido level. :) 

True, Maturity is something we look forward to even when we were still clinging to our moms dresses in a formal party or social gatherings, it was unconsciously there but we had to wake it up, we had to because that's the way it is, that's the way life goes. We have been taught well inside the school and home but the real challenge is using what we have learned and experience life as a person capable of so many things, so many emotions, so many meeting of people, and so much more.

I've known people from their 30's or even 40's and what do you know, I can still sense a lot of immaturity tuck within their hind brain and it does show from time to time. Or worse, most of the time. I wouldn't even call it pessimistic state, but really, a major sign of immaturity. 

I just thought I want to share my thoughts because people really think one gets wiser with age. Dating back from ancient times where the elders were consulted for their advices, know-how and strategies on certain agendas, the elders were considered the leaders whose power extended from suggesting people what to do and what not to do.

They have been a great source of hope because they know what they were doing. 

What were they able to contribute? A lot, and it shaped up how we look up to our grandparents, parents, teachers, and mentors and it's all because of their longevity thus, experiencing the most...

Ah, yes, the old adage Life is like a bottle of red wine, it gets better with age. Is not what I'm believing. Mainly because age without trying things, without grasping things, without seeing things, is merely just a number.

Maturity is something we can not stop and it can lead us to a lot of potentials but in order to have maturity, we have yet to experience events and scenarios which may or may not be suitable to our liking. 

So don't be afraid to take a leap of faith and get out of your comfort zone, it will teach you a lot, a whole lot and it can make you someone you would never have imagined.

And hopefully by the time I have succeeded full maturation, I know I have experienced life to the fullest because we all know that we have to age gracefully.
.
Emphasis on Gracefully. :)