My mind is still abuzz. The recently concluded Philippine Fashion Week gave me that much needed kick of adrenaline and sugar rush all in one go.
Venue: Function Room 4, SMX Convention Center Seashell Drive, Mall Of Asia Complex, Pasay City
RSVP: Runway Productions
Attire: Fashionably Chic
HELL YEAH!
Sure, I know some may say it's a social climber's dream to attend but I was there to support a friend and learn a thing or two.
And maybe, just maybe drool over the models who were their to strut their stuff, Dammit!
From the first designer Benjie Manuel who spearheaded the glamorous Haute Couture Runway to June Pugat who appalled and mesmerized me with his silk screen paintings to Popoy Barba who marvelously closed the rest of the night, it was amazingly and wonderfully breath-taking.
Was there another strike of realization that came into my paranoid and superficial mind? Yes there is.
There is a lot of potential in the Philippine Fashion Industry. Forget Monique Lhuillier or Rafe Totengco, I mean designers who are here in the country, showcasing what they can offer to Filipinos and non-Filipinos residing in our country. It took me one Fashion Show, one hundred and sixty garments and hundreds of spectators to realize that. True, I have been an avid fan but only in tube level meaning watching Fashion Shows through our television, nothing more than that. So seeing them for the first time made my stomach full of butterflies and that pump, pump, pump you get after gulping down a doppio espresso. Each and every one of their creations is worth an applause. They are that great with their craftsmanship.
Model after model walking down the runway, garment after garment, my eyes got so full that I forgot about my rumbling and rambling stomach. Hahaha! Although I was fashionably late for the nth time, I was still able to see it from a far, far, view.
I loved every minute of it. I liked most of their creations. I salivated because of the male models. I pivoted my head 360 degrees to look for a potential, uhm, partner. And mind you, there are a lot. Call it Homosexual Heaven. You can literally sniff gayness from one feet radius.
P.S. Of the five that I have invited over to celebrate with me in this joyous event, only one came. Thanks, friends! NOT! :)
Monday, May 31, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
A Very Humbling Day
Selective mutism. That was my intention for the day, I won't talk unless spoken to. I have done this several times already: at work, at home, at the gym. This will be a cinch. I will make it through this day without being too bothered by petty things.
Of course that was my id talking, yesterday was all about me, myself, and I.
I couldn't care less if a client had seizures, banged his head on the pavement and was rushed to the clinic for suturing, why bother myself with such nuisances.
But of course, I am volunteering there hence raises the question of, what would you do if the client is in your place?
And yes, that was my superego finally shaking the life out of me. Had I given in to the dark side, I wouldn't have bothered making any verbal contact to the staff, more so share a good laugh or two. Fortunately, the day is still early and I can't tell if I will really have a bad hair day uh, dreaded day. I just laughed off the idea and went on doing my morning routine.
Time coupled with my knack for distraction so as to avoid negative thoughts really worked. By two o' clock I was already rearing to go and take a well deserved nap.
Three o' clock hit and I made my last round before bidding everyone goodbye, for now. I had a great time with them. And I even forgot our small talk earlier. Even before having the security guard sign my daily time record I was already feeling much, much better. So much better than the start of my horrifying day.
I halted a PUV and got in. For some reason I was smiling. It was a genuine, feel good at the moment smile. It was different. I just can't put my finger in it.
I alighted and walked towards a waiting area only to ride another PUV again. Aside from the tricycle going out of the subdivision, I have to ride six times going to and from work. And the funny thing is that it's less than 7 kilometers away from home. I halted the PUV, I was really exhausted that time. Yes it rained, yes the ground was washed again by the glorious purity water brings, yes the people were rejoicing again, but, I'm tired for the day. I got in and slowly my pseudo-narcoplepsy crept in. I sat on the edge of the vehicle for easy access of getting out. I tilted my head towards a metal bar for comfort and off I snoozed. I can feel that the vehicle isn't encountering any type of heavy traffic. How'd I know? I can feel the wind brushing through my cheeks throughout the whole journey.
What happened was unexpected. With the speed the vehicle is going, I leaned more to the metal bar to become more comfortable and finally off flew my spectacles out on the highway! I was surprised and scared. I hurriedly halted the vehicle and walked towards where it landed but it was too late to save my eyeglasses, the lens were completely crushed and the frame was bent beyond repair. I caressed it in my palms like a child gasping for his last few breaths before having a cardiac standstill. It was all happening too fast, suddenly, I thought of my Mom and our argument earlier.
Boy I have to suck it in and I have to suck it good. I was thinking had I bought sneakers that day then I won't have eyeglasses for the next two or three months and mind you, these are not reading glasses, the ones that flew are prescription eyeglasses meant to be worn everyday to prevent further deterioration of my eye sight.
Was I feeling sad or sorry for myself? Was I on the brink of standing in the middle of the highway and end dear life? Was I resenting the fact that I rode the vehicle and didn't bother thinking about my dear glasses? No. I was constantly conjuring up logical thoughts on how to make this hell day become lighter.
I don't think my Mom needs to know about this. I have a spare set of glasses at home albeit in a round rimmed hence outdated style now. I can wear that for the meantime. It doesn't matter, the grade is just the same, I don't have to sacrifice wearing contacts everyday, which I don't like because I do mind taking it off before going to sleep. Hehe. Lazy, lazy, lazy me.
Overall, it was a fresh new take on humility and turning a tragedy into something positive. I wasn't able to buy me a new pair of sneakers and my glasses tasted death in an unexpected way but I learned to level my way of thinking to that of what I can obtain and what the world has to offer. And don't think of it as feeling just that or being mediocre because it's not. It just so happens that it's just not the right time for those and waiting is the best plan you have for now. Anticipating for the greater experiences in life, awaiting for better opportunities to come, expecting of more profundities to arrive.
And all because of those stupid sneakers I so wanted to purchase but couldn't. :)
Part 2
Of course that was my id talking, yesterday was all about me, myself, and I.
I couldn't care less if a client had seizures, banged his head on the pavement and was rushed to the clinic for suturing, why bother myself with such nuisances.
But of course, I am volunteering there hence raises the question of, what would you do if the client is in your place?
And yes, that was my superego finally shaking the life out of me. Had I given in to the dark side, I wouldn't have bothered making any verbal contact to the staff, more so share a good laugh or two. Fortunately, the day is still early and I can't tell if I will really have a bad hair day uh, dreaded day. I just laughed off the idea and went on doing my morning routine.
Time coupled with my knack for distraction so as to avoid negative thoughts really worked. By two o' clock I was already rearing to go and take a well deserved nap.
Three o' clock hit and I made my last round before bidding everyone goodbye, for now. I had a great time with them. And I even forgot our small talk earlier. Even before having the security guard sign my daily time record I was already feeling much, much better. So much better than the start of my horrifying day.
I halted a PUV and got in. For some reason I was smiling. It was a genuine, feel good at the moment smile. It was different. I just can't put my finger in it.
I alighted and walked towards a waiting area only to ride another PUV again. Aside from the tricycle going out of the subdivision, I have to ride six times going to and from work. And the funny thing is that it's less than 7 kilometers away from home. I halted the PUV, I was really exhausted that time. Yes it rained, yes the ground was washed again by the glorious purity water brings, yes the people were rejoicing again, but, I'm tired for the day. I got in and slowly my pseudo-narcoplepsy crept in. I sat on the edge of the vehicle for easy access of getting out. I tilted my head towards a metal bar for comfort and off I snoozed. I can feel that the vehicle isn't encountering any type of heavy traffic. How'd I know? I can feel the wind brushing through my cheeks throughout the whole journey.
What happened was unexpected. With the speed the vehicle is going, I leaned more to the metal bar to become more comfortable and finally off flew my spectacles out on the highway! I was surprised and scared. I hurriedly halted the vehicle and walked towards where it landed but it was too late to save my eyeglasses, the lens were completely crushed and the frame was bent beyond repair. I caressed it in my palms like a child gasping for his last few breaths before having a cardiac standstill. It was all happening too fast, suddenly, I thought of my Mom and our argument earlier.
Boy I have to suck it in and I have to suck it good. I was thinking had I bought sneakers that day then I won't have eyeglasses for the next two or three months and mind you, these are not reading glasses, the ones that flew are prescription eyeglasses meant to be worn everyday to prevent further deterioration of my eye sight.
Was I feeling sad or sorry for myself? Was I on the brink of standing in the middle of the highway and end dear life? Was I resenting the fact that I rode the vehicle and didn't bother thinking about my dear glasses? No. I was constantly conjuring up logical thoughts on how to make this hell day become lighter.
I don't think my Mom needs to know about this. I have a spare set of glasses at home albeit in a round rimmed hence outdated style now. I can wear that for the meantime. It doesn't matter, the grade is just the same, I don't have to sacrifice wearing contacts everyday, which I don't like because I do mind taking it off before going to sleep. Hehe. Lazy, lazy, lazy me.
Overall, it was a fresh new take on humility and turning a tragedy into something positive. I wasn't able to buy me a new pair of sneakers and my glasses tasted death in an unexpected way but I learned to level my way of thinking to that of what I can obtain and what the world has to offer. And don't think of it as feeling just that or being mediocre because it's not. It just so happens that it's just not the right time for those and waiting is the best plan you have for now. Anticipating for the greater experiences in life, awaiting for better opportunities to come, expecting of more profundities to arrive.
And all because of those stupid sneakers I so wanted to purchase but couldn't. :)
Part 2
A Very Humbling Day
NO! Was my Mom's reply after continuously pleading her in buying me new sneakers for an upcoming event.
After an answer I have been expecting but couldn't accept, I left our home with a grudge in my heart . I dragged myself along the streets in our subdivision as I walk towards a waiting shed. People were walking past through me with their morning cheerfulness and flamboyance.
It makes me want to throw up in the middle of the road!
It makes me want to gnaw on someone's arm with anger!
It makes me want to hurl a full dining set with frustration!
It makes me want to break expensive China with disappointment!
It makes me want to cripple that schizophrenic man gallivanting near my path!
In short, there was a huge thundercloud above my head waiting for the perfect time to strike its full glory to anyone and everyone who comes near me. I'm that infuriated.
But of course I didn't do any of those. I get mad easily but, like any rational being, I try to process the pros and cons of the whole situation:
Pros
1) We're renovating the house so it will totally put a hole on her pocket.
2) She provides me with allowances every week until I will be able to be absorbed in the Institution.
3) She's someone I depend to in times of trouble and doubt.
Cons
1) I haven't bought sneakers for more than a year now, isn't it time to upgrade? Duh, of course.
2) If ever she buys me one using a credit card which might exceed her credit limit, I won't be able to pay her back in full next month, I can pay her in installment basis.
3) I'm someone whom she can depend on when it comes to family talks or related conversations so I think I badly need a reward.
It's a fair fight, the justifications are all laid out. But still, the ego was bruised.
And so the cringing begins.
Part 1
After an answer I have been expecting but couldn't accept, I left our home with a grudge in my heart . I dragged myself along the streets in our subdivision as I walk towards a waiting shed. People were walking past through me with their morning cheerfulness and flamboyance.
It makes me want to throw up in the middle of the road!
It makes me want to gnaw on someone's arm with anger!
It makes me want to hurl a full dining set with frustration!
It makes me want to break expensive China with disappointment!
It makes me want to cripple that schizophrenic man gallivanting near my path!
In short, there was a huge thundercloud above my head waiting for the perfect time to strike its full glory to anyone and everyone who comes near me. I'm that infuriated.
But of course I didn't do any of those. I get mad easily but, like any rational being, I try to process the pros and cons of the whole situation:
Pros
1) We're renovating the house so it will totally put a hole on her pocket.
2) She provides me with allowances every week until I will be able to be absorbed in the Institution.
3) She's someone I depend to in times of trouble and doubt.
Cons
1) I haven't bought sneakers for more than a year now, isn't it time to upgrade? Duh, of course.
2) If ever she buys me one using a credit card which might exceed her credit limit, I won't be able to pay her back in full next month, I can pay her in installment basis.
3) I'm someone whom she can depend on when it comes to family talks or related conversations so I think I badly need a reward.
It's a fair fight, the justifications are all laid out. But still, the ego was bruised.
And so the cringing begins.
Part 1
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Unspoken Words
I have been fond of writing ever since I have started reading, well truth be told, I like reading more because it's much less of a hassle plus you get to check other people's perspective on a particular topic or post or article.
From reading short stories and essays to yearning for Western, Eastern and mixed literatures, to imagining myths, legends and ancient history galore and finally, interpreting poems and prose and especially haiku's. These are some that tickled my fancy when I was still growing up without any inkling on the presence of the world-wide web. Or is it because there wasn't any web at all during my hey days? To cut the story short, I was fascinated by the mere presence of books in our home. I read them almost everyday even if I've already read them or we already have discussed them in school.
I was very fond of Afro-asian Literatures, I guess because they were more insightful despite the fact that their stories were shorter. You know, it made sense without needing to elaborate much. The authors were mostly Japanese, Korean, Indian and Filipinos. Stories of family, of familial ties, of living, of striving, of judging, of harmony, of resonance, of youth and the want for it, of slavery, of tragedy, of hopelessness, of prayers, of reflections, of recollections, of everyday scenarios, of rare finds, and of great achievements. I need not go elsewhere to learn a vast amount of information.
And so this ignited my admiration to write, write anything! It doesn't matter if it's too deep or too superficial or even too lustful for people, the mere fact that I'm able to express what I'm feeling so intense as of that specific moment, makes me feel very fulfilled.
Although, life can really be ironic because in as much as I'm great in expressing myself through writing, I lack finesse, poise, grace and proper courteousness when I'm speaking. And to be more specific, apologizing. It's unconsciously done by me. I know, I know, stupid right? But that's the thing, I seem to apologize for certain reasons like accidentally bumping a person or stepping on a toe. And mind you, these are very minor, too minor even that people I've told my apologies to didn't even bat an eyelash or even reciprocated with a mere: that's nothing.
However if I've done a grave mistake on someone dear to me most especially my partner, words that he wants to hear don't come out easily as I want to say it. I express my apology through being more affectionate, caring and supportive. And I don't even think of it as pride or boastfulness or not stooping too low because I can be humble, I can stoop low for the sake of keeping a relationship intact. That's how I say, in my own, words, I'm truly sorry.
But then again, sometimes, these three words are the only words they want to hear in order to compensate an error.
From reading short stories and essays to yearning for Western, Eastern and mixed literatures, to imagining myths, legends and ancient history galore and finally, interpreting poems and prose and especially haiku's. These are some that tickled my fancy when I was still growing up without any inkling on the presence of the world-wide web. Or is it because there wasn't any web at all during my hey days? To cut the story short, I was fascinated by the mere presence of books in our home. I read them almost everyday even if I've already read them or we already have discussed them in school.
I was very fond of Afro-asian Literatures, I guess because they were more insightful despite the fact that their stories were shorter. You know, it made sense without needing to elaborate much. The authors were mostly Japanese, Korean, Indian and Filipinos. Stories of family, of familial ties, of living, of striving, of judging, of harmony, of resonance, of youth and the want for it, of slavery, of tragedy, of hopelessness, of prayers, of reflections, of recollections, of everyday scenarios, of rare finds, and of great achievements. I need not go elsewhere to learn a vast amount of information.
And so this ignited my admiration to write, write anything! It doesn't matter if it's too deep or too superficial or even too lustful for people, the mere fact that I'm able to express what I'm feeling so intense as of that specific moment, makes me feel very fulfilled.
Although, life can really be ironic because in as much as I'm great in expressing myself through writing, I lack finesse, poise, grace and proper courteousness when I'm speaking. And to be more specific, apologizing. It's unconsciously done by me. I know, I know, stupid right? But that's the thing, I seem to apologize for certain reasons like accidentally bumping a person or stepping on a toe. And mind you, these are very minor, too minor even that people I've told my apologies to didn't even bat an eyelash or even reciprocated with a mere: that's nothing.
However if I've done a grave mistake on someone dear to me most especially my partner, words that he wants to hear don't come out easily as I want to say it. I express my apology through being more affectionate, caring and supportive. And I don't even think of it as pride or boastfulness or not stooping too low because I can be humble, I can stoop low for the sake of keeping a relationship intact. That's how I say, in my own, words, I'm truly sorry.
But then again, sometimes, these three words are the only words they want to hear in order to compensate an error.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
And So I Read, And So I Learned.
According to Sigmund Freud, Defense Mechanisms are methods of attempting to protect the self and cope with basic drives or emotionally painful thoughts, feelings or events. He even added that most of these mechanisms operate at the unconscious level of awareness, so people are not aware of what they are doing and often need help to see the reality.
Note on the third sentence that MOST are driven unconsciously, so being the ever inquisitive person that I am, I tried to research the net and check what are those that are unconscious and conscious.
Upon checking, I couldn't see any explanation nor any differentiation of the conscious defense mechanisms from the unconscious but something I read struck me - a defense mechanism so familiar, yet, the term used is not in my vocabulary.
Self-fulfilling Prophecy.
It is a distorted mechanism in which you falsely attribute to others your own unacceptable feelings, but here you remain aware of the feelings yet believe they are justifiable actions to another person.
A good example here is an insecure person who has an intense fear of abandonment who, in the long run might have strong ideas of suspicion and infidelity that in time, they get sick of these feelings and eventually lead to genuine abandonment.
And as the explanation goes, it is rooted within our childhood memories or more especially if there is familial abuse. Growing up with ongoing abuses will make you think irrationally and will start blaming yourself for the abuse made or done to you.
Just like sex and the pleasure it brings which continues as a sumptuous and addictive cycle, same goes for the person afflicted albeit, in an emotional turmoil, emotional suicide kind of way.
You know that feeling when you have a partner yet still look, book and flirt with someone?
You know that saying, what the person doesn't know won't hurt him?
You know that suspiciousness creeping inside your mind convincing you, what if my partner is doing the same?
You know that thinking of being punished for the reason you can't fathom?
You know that trying to comprehend the question, what did I do wrong?
Yes, that is exactly one and the same.
And I rarely think when I'm about to sleep.
But it got me thinking. Are we bound to have a self-fulfilling prophecy? Do we always have to delve into our guilty pleasures and feel strongly guilty after?
Good thing though is that there is a solution to this ballistic, lucrative, disgusting cycle bound to destroy not only your life but also of others. And that is ACCEPTANCE - that other people tried to inflict emotional and psychological harm on you unconsciously but you are not to be blamed for their hostility and unacceptable behavior. So in turn you can stop thinking that you deserve those abusive treatments and finally stop punishing yourself unconsciously with all those resentments and negative emotions all boiling up inside.
I'm going to try this tomorrow so please Help Me God.
Update: I just hope my Dad won't EVER, EVER, EVER tell my Mom what happened or else I'm going to give him a memorable self-fulfilling prophecy if he does! ;)
Note on the third sentence that MOST are driven unconsciously, so being the ever inquisitive person that I am, I tried to research the net and check what are those that are unconscious and conscious.
Upon checking, I couldn't see any explanation nor any differentiation of the conscious defense mechanisms from the unconscious but something I read struck me - a defense mechanism so familiar, yet, the term used is not in my vocabulary.
Self-fulfilling Prophecy.
It is a distorted mechanism in which you falsely attribute to others your own unacceptable feelings, but here you remain aware of the feelings yet believe they are justifiable actions to another person.
A good example here is an insecure person who has an intense fear of abandonment who, in the long run might have strong ideas of suspicion and infidelity that in time, they get sick of these feelings and eventually lead to genuine abandonment.
And as the explanation goes, it is rooted within our childhood memories or more especially if there is familial abuse. Growing up with ongoing abuses will make you think irrationally and will start blaming yourself for the abuse made or done to you.
Just like sex and the pleasure it brings which continues as a sumptuous and addictive cycle, same goes for the person afflicted albeit, in an emotional turmoil, emotional suicide kind of way.
You know that feeling when you have a partner yet still look, book and flirt with someone?
You know that saying, what the person doesn't know won't hurt him?
You know that suspiciousness creeping inside your mind convincing you, what if my partner is doing the same?
You know that thinking of being punished for the reason you can't fathom?
You know that trying to comprehend the question, what did I do wrong?
Yes, that is exactly one and the same.
And I rarely think when I'm about to sleep.
But it got me thinking. Are we bound to have a self-fulfilling prophecy? Do we always have to delve into our guilty pleasures and feel strongly guilty after?
Good thing though is that there is a solution to this ballistic, lucrative, disgusting cycle bound to destroy not only your life but also of others. And that is ACCEPTANCE - that other people tried to inflict emotional and psychological harm on you unconsciously but you are not to be blamed for their hostility and unacceptable behavior. So in turn you can stop thinking that you deserve those abusive treatments and finally stop punishing yourself unconsciously with all those resentments and negative emotions all boiling up inside.
I'm going to try this tomorrow so please Help Me God.
Update: I just hope my Dad won't EVER, EVER, EVER tell my Mom what happened or else I'm going to give him a memorable self-fulfilling prophecy if he does! ;)
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Postponing Gratification
It was hot and humid when I arrived home. I was drenched in sweat.
I have to take a bath. I mumbled when I went past through the workers trying to repair our ceiling.
The house was bare like it was stripped off its beauty and charm. All remained was the skeleton, the framework, the foundation of our more than two decades living in the same home. Childhood memories all stored within the four corners. It was sad seeing its glorious beauty being stripped off but it was refreshing for it will be having a minor renovation.
I checked the refrigerator, got the large cup of iced tea I made yesterday and gulped it down like an athlete gulping down a sports drink. It was sweet, cold, with a hint of tang. Perfect.
Took off my shirt, socks and shoes. I looked at myself in the mirror, love handles, how I hate seeing them! But I'm doing my best to minimize them. Unfortunately, a cup of rice during breakfast and another during lunch isn't exactly ideal in losing the love handles. Fine. There will always be tomorrow to compensate.
Entered the washroom. It was hot but tolerable inside. I took off my pants and my underwear. I turned on the faucet, placed a small amount of paste at my toothbrush and started brushing my teeth.
I have to go to the gym, I have to go to the gym, I have to go to the gym. I was staring at myself and saying this mantra.
After doing my business in the washroom I proceeded to the bathroom.Turned on the shower, placed a small amount of shampoo in my hair, lathered and scrubbed. It was relaxing to say the least.
I grabbed the soap and rubbed it for a second trying to moisten it better with water. After that I smothered myself with the slippery goodness it has to offer.
Waited for a few minutes while removing the dirt and grime of the streets of Manila. I feel so clean! Very clean!
Turned the shower knob off, patted myself with the towel and wore my shorts.
I excused myself from the workers who were near the stairs and I immediately went up to my parents room. It was facing where the wind current is flowing so I opted to stay there for some quick nap.
I thought I wouldn't need to, I thought I wouldn't have to, I thought I wouldn't require to.
But I was mistaken, greatly mistaken.
My mind was forcing me to sleep but I can't I just can't. Not yet. Not this time yet. Something is amiss. I know what it is but I don't know if it's right.
It quietly stood, like a flower waiting for the first rays of the sun to be shone with. I held it gently, this is so wrong, but it feels so right.
Ever so often I would stroke it, just to know if it will react to the human touch. It does but it lacks the stimulus to remain hard. Rock hard.
My Ipod consists of my most current favorite music including some nostalgic songs I have grown with. But the cream of the crop of my media player is my porn collection. Sure, I delete every now and then but one thing is for certain, I won't delete all of them in one go.
I opened the Ipod, chose the Videos section, and decided what to watch. I was getting hotter by the minute. It has to be released. I have to need it released.
I chose a video I wasn't able to finish yesterday, I was enjoying every second of it: from the grasps, rubs, moans, yells, expressions, insertions and exertions. I was, finally, able to make it rock hard.
I was one with the video, I mimicked their every move, every flow, every blow. I was there in the video with them, doing it with them.
I was so engrossed by watching their every thrust, every blast, every push, every pull.
Then suddenly, my Dad came in and saw me.
:)
I have to take a bath. I mumbled when I went past through the workers trying to repair our ceiling.
The house was bare like it was stripped off its beauty and charm. All remained was the skeleton, the framework, the foundation of our more than two decades living in the same home. Childhood memories all stored within the four corners. It was sad seeing its glorious beauty being stripped off but it was refreshing for it will be having a minor renovation.
I checked the refrigerator, got the large cup of iced tea I made yesterday and gulped it down like an athlete gulping down a sports drink. It was sweet, cold, with a hint of tang. Perfect.
Took off my shirt, socks and shoes. I looked at myself in the mirror, love handles, how I hate seeing them! But I'm doing my best to minimize them. Unfortunately, a cup of rice during breakfast and another during lunch isn't exactly ideal in losing the love handles. Fine. There will always be tomorrow to compensate.
Entered the washroom. It was hot but tolerable inside. I took off my pants and my underwear. I turned on the faucet, placed a small amount of paste at my toothbrush and started brushing my teeth.
I have to go to the gym, I have to go to the gym, I have to go to the gym. I was staring at myself and saying this mantra.
After doing my business in the washroom I proceeded to the bathroom.Turned on the shower, placed a small amount of shampoo in my hair, lathered and scrubbed. It was relaxing to say the least.
I grabbed the soap and rubbed it for a second trying to moisten it better with water. After that I smothered myself with the slippery goodness it has to offer.
Waited for a few minutes while removing the dirt and grime of the streets of Manila. I feel so clean! Very clean!
Turned the shower knob off, patted myself with the towel and wore my shorts.
I excused myself from the workers who were near the stairs and I immediately went up to my parents room. It was facing where the wind current is flowing so I opted to stay there for some quick nap.
I thought I wouldn't need to, I thought I wouldn't have to, I thought I wouldn't require to.
But I was mistaken, greatly mistaken.
My mind was forcing me to sleep but I can't I just can't. Not yet. Not this time yet. Something is amiss. I know what it is but I don't know if it's right.
It quietly stood, like a flower waiting for the first rays of the sun to be shone with. I held it gently, this is so wrong, but it feels so right.
Ever so often I would stroke it, just to know if it will react to the human touch. It does but it lacks the stimulus to remain hard. Rock hard.
My Ipod consists of my most current favorite music including some nostalgic songs I have grown with. But the cream of the crop of my media player is my porn collection. Sure, I delete every now and then but one thing is for certain, I won't delete all of them in one go.
I opened the Ipod, chose the Videos section, and decided what to watch. I was getting hotter by the minute. It has to be released. I have to need it released.
I chose a video I wasn't able to finish yesterday, I was enjoying every second of it: from the grasps, rubs, moans, yells, expressions, insertions and exertions. I was, finally, able to make it rock hard.
I was one with the video, I mimicked their every move, every flow, every blow. I was there in the video with them, doing it with them.
I was so engrossed by watching their every thrust, every blast, every push, every pull.
Then suddenly, my Dad came in and saw me.
:)
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Something to Ponder About
You Can Always Retrace Your Path,
You Can Always Retrace Your Steps,
You Can Always Retrace Your Distance,
But You Can Never Have The Same Journey Again.
You Can Always Retrace Your Steps,
You Can Always Retrace Your Distance,
But You Can Never Have The Same Journey Again.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
I Swear I Sobbed
Not everyone who loves you will leave you - Bryan (The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2)
Friday, May 21, 2010
Explaining The Self
To Tolerate means to endure. To Understand means to grasp the concept.
I thought I have come to terms with what I am, with who I am, with how I am. You know that feeling of a certain freedom, independence with a bit of restriction.
Or so I thought.
Looking back, whenever a family member tries to uncover my homosexual side, I still get hurt. A lot. And that idea is still floating in my head.
Have I really accepted myself? Or have I been tolerating myself all along?
These two questions keep resurfacing every now and then. I guess because it's a hanging question. Or a rhetorical one that I, myself, have to figure out.
With gay friends, I let myself all out. I forget all inhibitions. Heck, when we volunteered at a Red Cross Branch during the storm Ketsana, we let our personalities flutter although a lot of people whether homosexual or heterosexual are present. It's as if we were the only ones helping there. We didn't give a damn if people laugh at us or ridicule us. We were laughing our assess off because we felt comfortable. I felt comfortable. They felt comfortable.
But if my cousins or aunts and uncles ask me questions like who am I dating now or how is my girlfriend doing? I break a sweat similar to having an indigestion. You see what happens when they ask stuff like those? That's how I am in terms of my sexuality to my family. A simple white lie would suffice but then again, who am I kidding? Who am I joking? Who am I playing a prank on? Myself.
I see that we still have a lot to do in order to be at terms with defining who we are as different. It's a struggle but not a war. Society, when it comes to homosexuality is still enduring the idea, tolerance. It will take a while before it will be completely embraced, understood. I hope I'm still alive by that time.
To Tolerate takes a lot of effort.
To Understand takes in a lot more although when you look at it, once you understand, then the effort won't all be in vain.
You open your eyes and mind to a lot of possibilities. You lessen ideas of hindrance, preconceptions, discriminations, and forms of oppression.
I don't blame society because I can't fight them. That's how I see it. And it's not even surrendering but keeping silent is the more politically correct term. And to be quite fair, their tolerance mean that they are also mum about the whole concept. But it's a cycle. Every now and then they tolerate something that they know and something that they could see.
I can not completely place this concept on grasp because I haven't been in terms with myself yet, but one thing is for certain, I'm tolerating myself for the sake of.
I thought I have come to terms with what I am, with who I am, with how I am. You know that feeling of a certain freedom, independence with a bit of restriction.
Or so I thought.
Looking back, whenever a family member tries to uncover my homosexual side, I still get hurt. A lot. And that idea is still floating in my head.
Have I really accepted myself? Or have I been tolerating myself all along?
These two questions keep resurfacing every now and then. I guess because it's a hanging question. Or a rhetorical one that I, myself, have to figure out.
With gay friends, I let myself all out. I forget all inhibitions. Heck, when we volunteered at a Red Cross Branch during the storm Ketsana, we let our personalities flutter although a lot of people whether homosexual or heterosexual are present. It's as if we were the only ones helping there. We didn't give a damn if people laugh at us or ridicule us. We were laughing our assess off because we felt comfortable. I felt comfortable. They felt comfortable.
But if my cousins or aunts and uncles ask me questions like who am I dating now or how is my girlfriend doing? I break a sweat similar to having an indigestion. You see what happens when they ask stuff like those? That's how I am in terms of my sexuality to my family. A simple white lie would suffice but then again, who am I kidding? Who am I joking? Who am I playing a prank on? Myself.
I see that we still have a lot to do in order to be at terms with defining who we are as different. It's a struggle but not a war. Society, when it comes to homosexuality is still enduring the idea, tolerance. It will take a while before it will be completely embraced, understood. I hope I'm still alive by that time.
To Tolerate takes a lot of effort.
To Understand takes in a lot more although when you look at it, once you understand, then the effort won't all be in vain.
You open your eyes and mind to a lot of possibilities. You lessen ideas of hindrance, preconceptions, discriminations, and forms of oppression.
I don't blame society because I can't fight them. That's how I see it. And it's not even surrendering but keeping silent is the more politically correct term. And to be quite fair, their tolerance mean that they are also mum about the whole concept. But it's a cycle. Every now and then they tolerate something that they know and something that they could see.
I can not completely place this concept on grasp because I haven't been in terms with myself yet, but one thing is for certain, I'm tolerating myself for the sake of.
The Hurdle
According to Men's Health we have different levels of Motivation from level one up to level five. One being the lowest and five being the highest.
As with every gradation, there is an explanation involved just to check how in sync you are in terms of feeling good about yourself as a whole when it comes to working out or just plain being fit and healthy.
Level One: You have no particular reason for working out. AMOTIVATION. No external or internal factors influence your activity, so no activity occurs.
Level Two: Other people like you better when you're in shape. EXTERNAL REGULATION. The mind responds to outside stimuli, though no internal motivation exists.
Level Three: You would feel bad about yourself if you didn't. INTROJECTED REGULATION. Internal motivations begin to form, but limited positive outcome occurs.
Level Four: You believe it's important and beneficial for health and lifestyle. IDENTIFIED REGULATION. Motivations become more positive, resulting in prolonged positive behavior.
Level Five: You Simply Enjoy It. INTRINSIC MOTIVATION. Positive activity is performed for extended periods because of pleasure response.
I believe every guy starts at Level One. I'm discounting the ER's who play basketball on an open space for the whole day, bodies grinding, sweats exchanging, and friction intensifying. Hahaha! I wish I could join them if only I know how to play basketball.
Growing up as a couch potato, I don't see any reason why I should exercise and also, no one influenced me to take on any type of physical activity. Even masturbating?! I started when I was 20! See! No influence of some sort. But anyway, I had no type of motivation hence I ballooned to a blob. Even stretching became a chore for me. Yes, I was that lazy.
It became Level Two when my Mom saw that I was getting stouter everyday. I would eat six times a day, these are heavy meals and not what fitness experts say of six light meals. Every meal includes heaps of rice, viands fried or not, and a dessert. One on breakfast, one meal on lunch, one on dinner, another when my aunt arrives from work, next meal when my Mom comes home from work and last one when my Dad arrives from work. So as you can read, I have a voracious appetite. Given a chance, I think I'm close to eating 5,000kcal a day. With little physical activity. And with that little physical activity, I try to become a better person for my Mom and not for myself, there is still an absence of internal stimuli. My thinking was that I want to make her happy and proud but not for myself, yet.
My motivation rose to Level Three when I stepped into College. I attended a coed University thus the population is larger and more diverse. It provided me that sense of inferiority which I think is a good thing because I tried my best to drive myself to be at least on par with most students. I became jealous and insecure. A negative force trying to turn it positive.
And this is where reality sank in. I have to get a form of physical exercise just to feel good when going out especially if I'm going in malls or going to clubs. I have to make sure I'm all pumped up and ready to flaunt my stocky body. The principal rule is: If I don't get any type of exercise. I don't go out the house. So it drastically made my life drab and dull. My social life nearly halted and my personal life is nowhere near compared to today. Thank goodness.
I initially thought that Level Four is the Level Five but I was wrong. It was actually, enjoyment first and health benefits second.
The Personal Positive Internal Motivation started when I went to the gym. Being the underdog and the mediocre among fellow gym mates. I strived. I challenged the odds. I took my trainer's criticisms into something constructive.
Lean your back!
Don't curve your back!
Straighten your arms!
Bend your knees!
Feel the stretch!
Feel the burn!
Feel the crunch!
And the best I have received is: Please make me feel proud to be your trainer.
These are just some of the statements I have received when starting out. The last having a double meaning because I was doing bad at the treadmill that time. I think I was in bad running form and he kept correcting me but, you know me and my ever hard head. ;)
I pushed the envelope. Every repetition, every set, every second is an achievement and everything counts. That was my mind set. And you know what? It helped me enormously.
Where am I now? How Motivated am I now? What Level am I in currently? Who is the Guyrony now?
Honestly?
The Brutal Truth?
Frankly?
I'm in Level Three. I regressed. I went down a notch because I still haven't achieved what I wanted to during my more than two years of sweating it out in the gym plus the fact that newer gym mates keep popping in like mushrooms but have massive biceps, gorgeous pecs, broad shoulders and abs of steel to flaunt.
I know it's just temporary for me. In a few months, I hope to see myself jump to Level Five and have this perfect ideal of: I pushed, I pulled, I lifted, I perspired, I finished, I felt good, therefore I enjoyed.
As with every gradation, there is an explanation involved just to check how in sync you are in terms of feeling good about yourself as a whole when it comes to working out or just plain being fit and healthy.
Level One: You have no particular reason for working out. AMOTIVATION. No external or internal factors influence your activity, so no activity occurs.
Level Two: Other people like you better when you're in shape. EXTERNAL REGULATION. The mind responds to outside stimuli, though no internal motivation exists.
Level Three: You would feel bad about yourself if you didn't. INTROJECTED REGULATION. Internal motivations begin to form, but limited positive outcome occurs.
Level Four: You believe it's important and beneficial for health and lifestyle. IDENTIFIED REGULATION. Motivations become more positive, resulting in prolonged positive behavior.
Level Five: You Simply Enjoy It. INTRINSIC MOTIVATION. Positive activity is performed for extended periods because of pleasure response.
I believe every guy starts at Level One. I'm discounting the ER's who play basketball on an open space for the whole day, bodies grinding, sweats exchanging, and friction intensifying. Hahaha! I wish I could join them if only I know how to play basketball.
Growing up as a couch potato, I don't see any reason why I should exercise and also, no one influenced me to take on any type of physical activity. Even masturbating?! I started when I was 20! See! No influence of some sort. But anyway, I had no type of motivation hence I ballooned to a blob. Even stretching became a chore for me. Yes, I was that lazy.
It became Level Two when my Mom saw that I was getting stouter everyday. I would eat six times a day, these are heavy meals and not what fitness experts say of six light meals. Every meal includes heaps of rice, viands fried or not, and a dessert. One on breakfast, one meal on lunch, one on dinner, another when my aunt arrives from work, next meal when my Mom comes home from work and last one when my Dad arrives from work. So as you can read, I have a voracious appetite. Given a chance, I think I'm close to eating 5,000kcal a day. With little physical activity. And with that little physical activity, I try to become a better person for my Mom and not for myself, there is still an absence of internal stimuli. My thinking was that I want to make her happy and proud but not for myself, yet.
My motivation rose to Level Three when I stepped into College. I attended a coed University thus the population is larger and more diverse. It provided me that sense of inferiority which I think is a good thing because I tried my best to drive myself to be at least on par with most students. I became jealous and insecure. A negative force trying to turn it positive.
And this is where reality sank in. I have to get a form of physical exercise just to feel good when going out especially if I'm going in malls or going to clubs. I have to make sure I'm all pumped up and ready to flaunt my stocky body. The principal rule is: If I don't get any type of exercise. I don't go out the house. So it drastically made my life drab and dull. My social life nearly halted and my personal life is nowhere near compared to today. Thank goodness.
I initially thought that Level Four is the Level Five but I was wrong. It was actually, enjoyment first and health benefits second.
The Personal Positive Internal Motivation started when I went to the gym. Being the underdog and the mediocre among fellow gym mates. I strived. I challenged the odds. I took my trainer's criticisms into something constructive.
Lean your back!
Don't curve your back!
Straighten your arms!
Bend your knees!
Feel the stretch!
Feel the burn!
Feel the crunch!
And the best I have received is: Please make me feel proud to be your trainer.
These are just some of the statements I have received when starting out. The last having a double meaning because I was doing bad at the treadmill that time. I think I was in bad running form and he kept correcting me but, you know me and my ever hard head. ;)
I pushed the envelope. Every repetition, every set, every second is an achievement and everything counts. That was my mind set. And you know what? It helped me enormously.
Where am I now? How Motivated am I now? What Level am I in currently? Who is the Guyrony now?
Honestly?
The Brutal Truth?
Frankly?
I'm in Level Three. I regressed. I went down a notch because I still haven't achieved what I wanted to during my more than two years of sweating it out in the gym plus the fact that newer gym mates keep popping in like mushrooms but have massive biceps, gorgeous pecs, broad shoulders and abs of steel to flaunt.
I know it's just temporary for me. In a few months, I hope to see myself jump to Level Five and have this perfect ideal of: I pushed, I pulled, I lifted, I perspired, I finished, I felt good, therefore I enjoyed.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
What's the Difference?
With the diversity homosexuality, or more particularly, gay culture has been offering these past few decades. One can't help wonder how massive our ideas have grown.
Take this for instance. I have heard of open relationships only when I stepped out of College. So way into my younger years I had no idea what it means. Relationship means Commitment so does it mean Open Relationship means Open Commitment? It doesn't mean anything to me. But anyway, I learned that Open Relationships are people who are committed to each other but can have sex with other people.
Oh Eym Dyi! Was my first reaction but I have no qualms with that, it's their life, they make the decisions and make their lives more fulfilling.
Then, very, very, recently I stumbled upon an interesting person at a party. He looks single, flirty, and attractive. He nearly kissed most of the people at the party but little did I know that he's actually In A Relationship.
You know what some clubbers say when they tell you be available but unavailable? It's just like that. I actually got to know this person more and he revealed to me that he's nearly in a one decade relationship with his partner and their status is Semi-open Relationship.
Eh?! There's Open then there's Semi-open? What's next? Half-open and Partially-open? I honestly got a wee bit confused. I want to know the idea, what does a Relationship consist of when it's Semi-open?
He explained further that he and his partner have sex with different people only this time one must be present. A threesome or a foursome or even a dozen just as long as both are present in the scene/event/orgy party.
I haven't told you this before but I have a fetish for orgies when it comes to porn. They are absolutely what turns me on, couple that with a twink orgy and hell yeah!
But you see, I haven't done any of that. I haven't done any of those simultaneous multiple sex partner act. Yes, I haven't. Believe me. I'm not the Boy who Cried Wolf.
When I watch it, it turns me on but when it comes to the act of actually doing it with people, I don't see myself going that direction.
People say try it and then judge later but I'd rather be on the safe side and not get on the bandwagon. I'm fine with a one-on-one intercourse plus, I won't get confused who I would do or whatever goes in between.
So according to this friend of mine, it's just that, nothing really drastic or extraordinary with their set-up.
And from the way I see it, if they're completely comfortable with it then go with it. What suits both partners preference should do the trick. The world is getting bigger in a sense that ideas keep getting more broad, overlapping, criss-crossing, and being indefinite. Let's not close our ideas of what might could be for us.
And yes, I have turned him down for a threesome. And I still collect porn orgy gay edition. Any links? :)
Take this for instance. I have heard of open relationships only when I stepped out of College. So way into my younger years I had no idea what it means. Relationship means Commitment so does it mean Open Relationship means Open Commitment? It doesn't mean anything to me. But anyway, I learned that Open Relationships are people who are committed to each other but can have sex with other people.
Oh Eym Dyi! Was my first reaction but I have no qualms with that, it's their life, they make the decisions and make their lives more fulfilling.
Then, very, very, recently I stumbled upon an interesting person at a party. He looks single, flirty, and attractive. He nearly kissed most of the people at the party but little did I know that he's actually In A Relationship.
You know what some clubbers say when they tell you be available but unavailable? It's just like that. I actually got to know this person more and he revealed to me that he's nearly in a one decade relationship with his partner and their status is Semi-open Relationship.
Eh?! There's Open then there's Semi-open? What's next? Half-open and Partially-open? I honestly got a wee bit confused. I want to know the idea, what does a Relationship consist of when it's Semi-open?
He explained further that he and his partner have sex with different people only this time one must be present. A threesome or a foursome or even a dozen just as long as both are present in the scene/event/orgy party.
I haven't told you this before but I have a fetish for orgies when it comes to porn. They are absolutely what turns me on, couple that with a twink orgy and hell yeah!
But you see, I haven't done any of that. I haven't done any of those simultaneous multiple sex partner act. Yes, I haven't. Believe me. I'm not the Boy who Cried Wolf.
When I watch it, it turns me on but when it comes to the act of actually doing it with people, I don't see myself going that direction.
People say try it and then judge later but I'd rather be on the safe side and not get on the bandwagon. I'm fine with a one-on-one intercourse plus, I won't get confused who I would do or whatever goes in between.
So according to this friend of mine, it's just that, nothing really drastic or extraordinary with their set-up.
And from the way I see it, if they're completely comfortable with it then go with it. What suits both partners preference should do the trick. The world is getting bigger in a sense that ideas keep getting more broad, overlapping, criss-crossing, and being indefinite. Let's not close our ideas of what might could be for us.
And yes, I have turned him down for a threesome. And I still collect porn orgy gay edition. Any links? :)
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Something to Ponder About
Life is an Abstract.
Some see it as Distorted,
Others see it as Picturesque.
Some see it as Distorted,
Others see it as Picturesque.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
The Squirter and the Oozer
Epic Fail.
That's what I initially thought of when the first rays of the sun rose. I thought that I'd go home with a hole in my heart and a grudge in my balls.
But I was so wrong.
It started when...
I saw him. He saw me.
He wanted it. I wanted it.
I danced in front of him, wrapped my hand around his waist. He reciprocated with the same gesture.
He was looking fiery into my eyes. I was looking intensely into his.
I grabbed his right hand. He grabbed my left hand.
He smiled with much malice. I smirked at him with a hint of lasciviousness.
I was a pro in the industry. He is fairly new to the market.
He licked his lips with lust. I bit my lips with excitement.
I gave subtle hints. He gave clear cues.
He wants me badly. I want him sorely.
After the much needed bonding around Manila which consisted of going to a Mini Stop store and buying a drink, to walking towards Starbucks Adriatico and hanging there eating a cheesecake and drinking a Green Tea Latte, to traversing towards Taft Avenue only to stay at McDonald's and sharing a Large Fries, to walking towards Pedro Gil and purchasing coconut bread and spanish bread for that much needed carb boost, and finally to Manila Bay where we stayed until the lights of the sun overshadowed our bodies.
It didn't stop there.
I have to make him mine. He has to make me his.
Even for just a couple of hours. Until the pleasure principle dwindles to zero level.
But until then, we have to satisfy each other. So we searched around, went to alleys, avenues, and main roads to check for a place to stay for the time being. For the consummation to take place.
The heat of the sun is a mere minimum compared to the intensity of the pleasure we would do. The heat is just not up to par with our body heat. Pun intended.
After looking around and trying our best to keep ourselves awake despite the time already passing, we decided to call it quits. I live down south, he lives way down south.
Then, a brilliant idea came up to my throbbing head! A place where I'm near and near a bus station towards his hometown.
At last!
We boarded a bus, paid the conductor and tried our best to sleep to conserve energy.
We arrived near the place, repressed our doubts and skepticisms and went into a journey of the unknown.
Heterosexual couple lining up one after another. So what?!
I think they should accommodate customers according to beauty. And, well then we should be the first in line. :)
He paid while I waited. Upon receiving the key to the magical place we hastily moved our feet double time.
He opened the door. I locked it.
I removed my clothes. He lied down to rest.
He looked innocent, too innocent. I roared with excitement, too much excitement.
I grabbed his neck and pulled his lips to mine, it was hot, steamy, wanting and yearning.
He kissed back with care, concern, beastly behavior and indecent ideas.
I caressed his body, every single curve of his body, my warm hands giving more warmth.
He held my arms like it was the most precious thing he has ever held, a diamond in a bed of roses.
I went down on him. He gladly obliged.
He cussed without inhibitions. I made actions without hesitations.
I got more excited and more aroused. He got more horny and more beastly.
He went down on me. I gladly obliged.
I moaned and moved my body from the electricity he brings me. He went down deeper and worked harder.
He gave it his best. I gave it my all.
I tried to contain it until I came, the throbbing head of mine vomited the juice that he has been wanting all along.
He continued to jerk off until the bomb can not be handled with care anymore. It exploded like a dormant volcano that didn't erupt for centuries.
I looked at the explosion; a sight to behold, a masterpiece to treasure, a picture worth keeping.
He looked at the mess I made; he licked it as if it's chocolate syrup, he swirled his tongue as if it's ice cream, he prodded his tongue as if it's a melted ready to drink yogurt.
I stared at him with bewilderment. He stared back with nonchalance.
That's what I initially thought of when the first rays of the sun rose. I thought that I'd go home with a hole in my heart and a grudge in my balls.
But I was so wrong.
It started when...
I saw him. He saw me.
He wanted it. I wanted it.
I danced in front of him, wrapped my hand around his waist. He reciprocated with the same gesture.
He was looking fiery into my eyes. I was looking intensely into his.
I grabbed his right hand. He grabbed my left hand.
He smiled with much malice. I smirked at him with a hint of lasciviousness.
I was a pro in the industry. He is fairly new to the market.
He licked his lips with lust. I bit my lips with excitement.
I gave subtle hints. He gave clear cues.
He wants me badly. I want him sorely.
After the much needed bonding around Manila which consisted of going to a Mini Stop store and buying a drink, to walking towards Starbucks Adriatico and hanging there eating a cheesecake and drinking a Green Tea Latte, to traversing towards Taft Avenue only to stay at McDonald's and sharing a Large Fries, to walking towards Pedro Gil and purchasing coconut bread and spanish bread for that much needed carb boost, and finally to Manila Bay where we stayed until the lights of the sun overshadowed our bodies.
It didn't stop there.
I have to make him mine. He has to make me his.
Even for just a couple of hours. Until the pleasure principle dwindles to zero level.
But until then, we have to satisfy each other. So we searched around, went to alleys, avenues, and main roads to check for a place to stay for the time being. For the consummation to take place.
The heat of the sun is a mere minimum compared to the intensity of the pleasure we would do. The heat is just not up to par with our body heat. Pun intended.
After looking around and trying our best to keep ourselves awake despite the time already passing, we decided to call it quits. I live down south, he lives way down south.
Then, a brilliant idea came up to my throbbing head! A place where I'm near and near a bus station towards his hometown.
At last!
We boarded a bus, paid the conductor and tried our best to sleep to conserve energy.
We arrived near the place, repressed our doubts and skepticisms and went into a journey of the unknown.
Heterosexual couple lining up one after another. So what?!
I think they should accommodate customers according to beauty. And, well then we should be the first in line. :)
He paid while I waited. Upon receiving the key to the magical place we hastily moved our feet double time.
He opened the door. I locked it.
I removed my clothes. He lied down to rest.
He looked innocent, too innocent. I roared with excitement, too much excitement.
I grabbed his neck and pulled his lips to mine, it was hot, steamy, wanting and yearning.
He kissed back with care, concern, beastly behavior and indecent ideas.
I caressed his body, every single curve of his body, my warm hands giving more warmth.
He held my arms like it was the most precious thing he has ever held, a diamond in a bed of roses.
I went down on him. He gladly obliged.
He cussed without inhibitions. I made actions without hesitations.
I got more excited and more aroused. He got more horny and more beastly.
He went down on me. I gladly obliged.
I moaned and moved my body from the electricity he brings me. He went down deeper and worked harder.
He gave it his best. I gave it my all.
I tried to contain it until I came, the throbbing head of mine vomited the juice that he has been wanting all along.
He continued to jerk off until the bomb can not be handled with care anymore. It exploded like a dormant volcano that didn't erupt for centuries.
I looked at the explosion; a sight to behold, a masterpiece to treasure, a picture worth keeping.
He looked at the mess I made; he licked it as if it's chocolate syrup, he swirled his tongue as if it's ice cream, he prodded his tongue as if it's a melted ready to drink yogurt.
I stared at him with bewilderment. He stared back with nonchalance.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Something to Ponder About
Even If It Is Uncalled For,
You Will Almost Always Rationalize Your Wrong Decisions in Life.
You Will Almost Always Rationalize Your Wrong Decisions in Life.
The Main External Stressor
For the longest time I thought everything would be fine, like it's natural, that even though we don't talk about my sexuality I know there's a deep understanding between me and my Mom.
Even though a bit on the prejudiced side, I can't blame her and I know where she's coming from. Having one kid who is gay can be really difficult to accept more so all three kids.
I don't know how she got to accept my Older sister because I thought she was strong enough to handle stressful situations like these. My older sister came out at a young age of 15 when Mom learned that she's dating a friend who she constantly introduces to us as her best friend. Only when Mom snooped in her mobile phone and her closet that she realized that the best friend is actually a girlfriend. I think it took a lot of her strength and optimism away knowing that her eldest daughter is a full-fledged lesbian and not the pink type, she's the butch type ever since. Hard as it may seem for my Mom, for my Dad, for us, there's nothing we can do. It's her life, it's her worth, it's her decisions, it's her.
Sometimes out of the blue when she's infuriated at my Older sister she would blurt out: tomboy! And of course my Older sister would get defensive and would eventually trudge her way upstairs, slam the door and cry. This is the reality that we have been accustomed to since she came out and their relationship has been very civil from then on.
The Youngest sister although she never dreamed of wearing blouses or dresses or skirts or girly accessories, Mom would still dress her like a doll even if she cried, bawled, or wailed in vain. Her frustration with my Older sister was displaced to my Younger sister and for the longest time, we thought that she would grow to be straight girl although not in a conventional way.
She had a boyfriend once when she was a Frosh high school which actually surprised us! Her boyfriend was a Frosh in College which surprised us even more. My Mom didn't stop nor hindered them from having a commitment, after all, it was just puppy love, which we all had been through once or maybe twice. Later during that same year, my Younger sister and her boyfriend broke up because the guy is moving from Manila to a province. I don't know the whole gist of how the story goes but my sister was in shambles for quite some time.
Then, a new neighbor came into the light, a girl which I could say is not ugly nor fugly nor puke-able but average (this is according to my standards). They were initially introduced by the uncle of the new neighbor and from there on their friendship bloomed. My younger sister would always hang-out at their home and would be staying there for most of the afternoon till perhaps, dinner time. My Mom, ever suspicious as she is, wondered why she is staying so long in the house of her new found friend. And, as a response, my Younger sister would tell her that they're just hanging-out, having fun and bonding.
One day, again, my Mom snooped now in my Younger sister's phone and lo and behold! She cried instantaneously after reading what she saw in the phone. We immediately went to the scene and tried our best to pacify the situation. I, on the other hand, was confused that time. I didn't know how to react or what to say because I can feel my Mom's pain yet feel the emotion of my Younger sister. I was in a crossroad of some sort but I had to do what I had to do, to stop my Mom from physically hurting my Younger sister at that war-like moment.
Re: It was a mushy text from her friend to my sister that made Mom furious.
That was traumatizing for all of us and our family was never the same again. Mom, if aggravated or just felt like being angry for some reason would spontaneously shout to my sisters: tomboy. And I, the middle man, would stop them, talk to them and tell them the overview of the situation.
Re: I wouldn't want to be branded the way my sisters were because as you all know, it can be heart-wrenching when it comes to family or more particularly if it came from family. It's different if it came from friends or the like who are just pulling your leg.
Like what I had been telling people and had been blogging before, I was out in a sense that I don't tell them what I am, instead, I let them be the judge of my actions. Implied.
And I know, or so I thought, I know my Mom would be fine with this because I had been always her favorite (fine, fine, I'm a Mommy's boy!). Little by little she would ask questions that might progress to her discovery of my genuine sexuality although she had been in denial for the longest time for the reason stated above. Ladlad Book 2, OUT Magazines and an Icon Magazine featuring Andrew Wolff were the mainstay in my closet. I know she looks at them when she tidies up the room so I was already in the assumption that, maybe, my Mom is gonna be fine with her three kids being different, sexually different.
Then page after page of my life, chapter after chapter, she was uncovering me from a supposed invisible shell. One that would protect me from her discriminations and random outbursts of irrationality driven by frustration. But man, I was so wrong to the point that one of the main reasons why I just want to seclude myself and emancipate from our home is because of her and her way of thinking when it comes to gays.
And recently, I had a phone, a clamshell one. It's an old model and I know it will wear out soon, sooner than expected because I was accidentally dropping it from time to time. After a few drops I noticed that the external screen was not displaying the usual time when you close it and I didn't do anything. Next, I noticed that it shuts down when I'm typing a text message or just plain opening and closing the phone and still, I didn't do anything. I was very confident that it will live until I save enough money to buy a brand new spanking phone. Next thing I knew when I flip it open, the screen goes black and I had to restart it over and over again just to make it work but the worse thing is that when I get a chance to see the normal screen then it hangs. I was getting too frustrated up to the point that I nearly held it too tight in my hand and ready to flung it to a pavement or to our floor but since I don't want to be such a bad ass, raging, hot-headed bull that I normally am, then I just told my Mom I want a new phone. I was giving hints and actually telling her and even showing her the problems I'm encountering with my phone and she nodded that she will purchase a phone, a simple phone just to replace the broken one.
I was glad and I appreciated her for that but lately, she was postponing the purchase which made me anxious and disappointed because having no communication to the social network I am in plus our slow and difficult to work with broadband connection made me anticipate for an epic fail of requesting one.
Last Friday, my Mom told me we will buy the phone by Saturday morning and we really have to buy the phone that day because I will be going out by the evening with my friends and acquaintances. I organized this bonding ergo, I should be the one making all the necessary arrangements with all of them.
Unfortunately, there's a huge problem because my family will be going to a reunion and they might not be back by dinner time or later so that really hit my nerves in a very, very, very wrong way. I am the type of person who is not so good with too much frustrations and stresses. That I have to humbly admit. Good thing my Younger sister didn't also join the reunion so we were stuck together at home and by the afternoon I asked if I could insert my sim in her phone just for five minutes just to text my significant exclusively dating other and also to make a hint to my Mom.
To my significant exclusively dating other: I miss you very much!!! :)
To my Mom: Mom, please buy me a phone before you get home. I want a 6300! Please! Thanks!
After that I didn't bother waiting for a reply. I simply switched my sister's phone off , then got my sim card and returned the phone.
Later that night, with a lot of luck and prayers I was able to turn on the broken phone for a mere three minutes. I wasn't expecting any extraordinary message that time but one message really placed me to a boiling point level.
Son, I will buy you a new phone, just make yourself a man.
Sender: Mom
Even though a bit on the prejudiced side, I can't blame her and I know where she's coming from. Having one kid who is gay can be really difficult to accept more so all three kids.
I don't know how she got to accept my Older sister because I thought she was strong enough to handle stressful situations like these. My older sister came out at a young age of 15 when Mom learned that she's dating a friend who she constantly introduces to us as her best friend. Only when Mom snooped in her mobile phone and her closet that she realized that the best friend is actually a girlfriend. I think it took a lot of her strength and optimism away knowing that her eldest daughter is a full-fledged lesbian and not the pink type, she's the butch type ever since. Hard as it may seem for my Mom, for my Dad, for us, there's nothing we can do. It's her life, it's her worth, it's her decisions, it's her.
Sometimes out of the blue when she's infuriated at my Older sister she would blurt out: tomboy! And of course my Older sister would get defensive and would eventually trudge her way upstairs, slam the door and cry. This is the reality that we have been accustomed to since she came out and their relationship has been very civil from then on.
The Youngest sister although she never dreamed of wearing blouses or dresses or skirts or girly accessories, Mom would still dress her like a doll even if she cried, bawled, or wailed in vain. Her frustration with my Older sister was displaced to my Younger sister and for the longest time, we thought that she would grow to be straight girl although not in a conventional way.
She had a boyfriend once when she was a Frosh high school which actually surprised us! Her boyfriend was a Frosh in College which surprised us even more. My Mom didn't stop nor hindered them from having a commitment, after all, it was just puppy love, which we all had been through once or maybe twice. Later during that same year, my Younger sister and her boyfriend broke up because the guy is moving from Manila to a province. I don't know the whole gist of how the story goes but my sister was in shambles for quite some time.
Then, a new neighbor came into the light, a girl which I could say is not ugly nor fugly nor puke-able but average (this is according to my standards). They were initially introduced by the uncle of the new neighbor and from there on their friendship bloomed. My younger sister would always hang-out at their home and would be staying there for most of the afternoon till perhaps, dinner time. My Mom, ever suspicious as she is, wondered why she is staying so long in the house of her new found friend. And, as a response, my Younger sister would tell her that they're just hanging-out, having fun and bonding.
One day, again, my Mom snooped now in my Younger sister's phone and lo and behold! She cried instantaneously after reading what she saw in the phone. We immediately went to the scene and tried our best to pacify the situation. I, on the other hand, was confused that time. I didn't know how to react or what to say because I can feel my Mom's pain yet feel the emotion of my Younger sister. I was in a crossroad of some sort but I had to do what I had to do, to stop my Mom from physically hurting my Younger sister at that war-like moment.
Re: It was a mushy text from her friend to my sister that made Mom furious.
That was traumatizing for all of us and our family was never the same again. Mom, if aggravated or just felt like being angry for some reason would spontaneously shout to my sisters: tomboy. And I, the middle man, would stop them, talk to them and tell them the overview of the situation.
Re: I wouldn't want to be branded the way my sisters were because as you all know, it can be heart-wrenching when it comes to family or more particularly if it came from family. It's different if it came from friends or the like who are just pulling your leg.
Like what I had been telling people and had been blogging before, I was out in a sense that I don't tell them what I am, instead, I let them be the judge of my actions. Implied.
And I know, or so I thought, I know my Mom would be fine with this because I had been always her favorite (fine, fine, I'm a Mommy's boy!). Little by little she would ask questions that might progress to her discovery of my genuine sexuality although she had been in denial for the longest time for the reason stated above. Ladlad Book 2, OUT Magazines and an Icon Magazine featuring Andrew Wolff were the mainstay in my closet. I know she looks at them when she tidies up the room so I was already in the assumption that, maybe, my Mom is gonna be fine with her three kids being different, sexually different.
Then page after page of my life, chapter after chapter, she was uncovering me from a supposed invisible shell. One that would protect me from her discriminations and random outbursts of irrationality driven by frustration. But man, I was so wrong to the point that one of the main reasons why I just want to seclude myself and emancipate from our home is because of her and her way of thinking when it comes to gays.
And recently, I had a phone, a clamshell one. It's an old model and I know it will wear out soon, sooner than expected because I was accidentally dropping it from time to time. After a few drops I noticed that the external screen was not displaying the usual time when you close it and I didn't do anything. Next, I noticed that it shuts down when I'm typing a text message or just plain opening and closing the phone and still, I didn't do anything. I was very confident that it will live until I save enough money to buy a brand new spanking phone. Next thing I knew when I flip it open, the screen goes black and I had to restart it over and over again just to make it work but the worse thing is that when I get a chance to see the normal screen then it hangs. I was getting too frustrated up to the point that I nearly held it too tight in my hand and ready to flung it to a pavement or to our floor but since I don't want to be such a bad ass, raging, hot-headed bull that I normally am, then I just told my Mom I want a new phone. I was giving hints and actually telling her and even showing her the problems I'm encountering with my phone and she nodded that she will purchase a phone, a simple phone just to replace the broken one.
I was glad and I appreciated her for that but lately, she was postponing the purchase which made me anxious and disappointed because having no communication to the social network I am in plus our slow and difficult to work with broadband connection made me anticipate for an epic fail of requesting one.
Last Friday, my Mom told me we will buy the phone by Saturday morning and we really have to buy the phone that day because I will be going out by the evening with my friends and acquaintances. I organized this bonding ergo, I should be the one making all the necessary arrangements with all of them.
Unfortunately, there's a huge problem because my family will be going to a reunion and they might not be back by dinner time or later so that really hit my nerves in a very, very, very wrong way. I am the type of person who is not so good with too much frustrations and stresses. That I have to humbly admit. Good thing my Younger sister didn't also join the reunion so we were stuck together at home and by the afternoon I asked if I could insert my sim in her phone just for five minutes just to text my significant exclusively dating other and also to make a hint to my Mom.
To my significant exclusively dating other: I miss you very much!!! :)
To my Mom: Mom, please buy me a phone before you get home. I want a 6300! Please! Thanks!
After that I didn't bother waiting for a reply. I simply switched my sister's phone off , then got my sim card and returned the phone.
Later that night, with a lot of luck and prayers I was able to turn on the broken phone for a mere three minutes. I wasn't expecting any extraordinary message that time but one message really placed me to a boiling point level.
Son, I will buy you a new phone, just make yourself a man.
Sender: Mom
Friday, May 14, 2010
It Doesn't Matter
Once a Malate boy, always a Malate boy.
And most of the people I've interacted with who don't go there always get grossed-out.
Maybe it's the culture.
Maybe it's the place.
Maybe it's the people.
But I don't care, I had always been fond of going there even if some memories are bittersweet and heart-breaking.
The past will remain the past.
The memories will only remain memories.
The past encounters will remain past encounters.
I ask detractors why not join me so that they will have an idea what it's like there?
Because it's a dirty, filthy, nasty place. And that's a major place for hook-ups. Most guys would tell me.
Well, where isn't nowadays? I made a decent rebuttal.
Everywhere you look, you can get sex. I can name a lot! Malls, restos, internet shops, work place, gyms, and even train stations! They're all places to get hook-ups. And, it's up to you if you would take the bait or not. I further continued.
It's really up to you, your personality, your emotions and how you define limitations that makes all the decisions. Not the place. Never the place.
Malate is a place to unwind, to relax, to soul-search. It just provides an ambiance near to eroticism. And again, the person decides.
It's a party place, a meeting of the minds albeit in a different manner and setting though. I don't see anything wrong with that.
Whorehouse. Flirts. Bitches. Sluts. Fuckers and suckers. These are just some of what I have heard them describing the place.
And I admit, it's true and it's really prominent, I guess, more prominent than some other public places. That's why they judge you easily because booking is a simpler investment and the self is the market. As contrary to the places above where it's more discreet, more subtle.
Malate is haven for me. This is where I can dance the night away without thinking of anything, uh , I mean almost anything. Without thinking anything. Brain dead? Hahaha!
This is where all the tension at home, at work, at the external and internal stressors present all be put in a keep safe for at least the night. And that will be a good three to four hours. Not bad! Not bad at all. :)
And when I think about it, I really don't have too much to explain to them other than that it provides me that needed solitude in a crowded and deaf-inducing area like that.
Ironic? It sure is. But after graduating from college, I don't think school is the second home for me anymore.
Malate is. Bed bar is. O Bar is.
Yes. I'm a flirt. You can even say I'm a great one. A refined one. A pure bred flirt.
But I'm not a whore. Nor a slut. Nor a bitch. Nor a fucker and a sucker.
Not on weekdays at least.
And most of the people I've interacted with who don't go there always get grossed-out.
Maybe it's the culture.
Maybe it's the place.
Maybe it's the people.
But I don't care, I had always been fond of going there even if some memories are bittersweet and heart-breaking.
The past will remain the past.
The memories will only remain memories.
The past encounters will remain past encounters.
I ask detractors why not join me so that they will have an idea what it's like there?
Because it's a dirty, filthy, nasty place. And that's a major place for hook-ups. Most guys would tell me.
Well, where isn't nowadays? I made a decent rebuttal.
Everywhere you look, you can get sex. I can name a lot! Malls, restos, internet shops, work place, gyms, and even train stations! They're all places to get hook-ups. And, it's up to you if you would take the bait or not. I further continued.
It's really up to you, your personality, your emotions and how you define limitations that makes all the decisions. Not the place. Never the place.
Malate is a place to unwind, to relax, to soul-search. It just provides an ambiance near to eroticism. And again, the person decides.
It's a party place, a meeting of the minds albeit in a different manner and setting though. I don't see anything wrong with that.
Whorehouse. Flirts. Bitches. Sluts. Fuckers and suckers. These are just some of what I have heard them describing the place.
And I admit, it's true and it's really prominent, I guess, more prominent than some other public places. That's why they judge you easily because booking is a simpler investment and the self is the market. As contrary to the places above where it's more discreet, more subtle.
Malate is haven for me. This is where I can dance the night away without thinking of anything, uh , I mean almost anything. Without thinking anything. Brain dead? Hahaha!
This is where all the tension at home, at work, at the external and internal stressors present all be put in a keep safe for at least the night. And that will be a good three to four hours. Not bad! Not bad at all. :)
And when I think about it, I really don't have too much to explain to them other than that it provides me that needed solitude in a crowded and deaf-inducing area like that.
Ironic? It sure is. But after graduating from college, I don't think school is the second home for me anymore.
Malate is. Bed bar is. O Bar is.
Yes. I'm a flirt. You can even say I'm a great one. A refined one. A pure bred flirt.
But I'm not a whore. Nor a slut. Nor a bitch. Nor a fucker and a sucker.
Not on weekdays at least.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Question of the Day
Greenhills Shopping Center, 16:00, Manila Time.
Me and my cousins walking along from an all afternoon shopping for them and window shopping for me. We were already ready to go back to the condo in Rockwell when suddenly my cousin who barely knows me bluntly asked:
Who are you shooting nowadays?
If you could have just seen my expression, I thought I was being held point blank.
Freaking question.
Me and my cousins walking along from an all afternoon shopping for them and window shopping for me. We were already ready to go back to the condo in Rockwell when suddenly my cousin who barely knows me bluntly asked:
Who are you shooting nowadays?
If you could have just seen my expression, I thought I was being held point blank.
Freaking question.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Of Camaraderie, Cocktails, Beers, and Cheers
Last night, we were at Tiendesita's for some quality time with my cousins who will be returning to the US. Being a moody, lazy and sometimes anti-social me, I was having doubts if I should go with them or not.
Seriously, the day before last night, I had some spontaneous skin allergy which required me to take an anti-histamine hence I feel so drugged and weak after waking up. And it didn't stop there, oh no, all throughout the day I was so sleepy and my actions were slow that some people might think I was having manifestations of Alzheimer's. Early-onset Alzheimer's. Yikes!
Anyway, I pushed myself to join them even though I don't feel like going. You know that feeling where everyone pushes you into something you don't like? That's the feeling. My persistent Mom keeps insisting I go with them since this might be the last time I could bond with them for they will fly back by the 12th of May.
That was in a short notice because I only knew that we were going to Tiendesita's after I jogged at around 6pm. I was thinking maybe I should just stay home and do more interesting stuff or maybe go out when midnight comes (tugsh, tugsh, tugsh, tugsh).
Hmmm...the choices a person has to make to maximize the most time on a weekend. This can really surface my critical thinking skills! Oh, great! Neuron fritters coming up!
The time we should leave is by 9pm. I still have a lot of time given the fact that I don't want to overdress anymore (I give my time and attention when clubbing at Malate) but since I think it wouldn't matter because, well, I know we won't dance there anyway and I can sense that cute boys will be near to non-existent. After taking a bath, I played the PS2 and grinded my thumbs. Hell, that was relaxing. Beating opponents to a pulp and not letting them see the life and light. I'm so evil!
By 7:30pm, I told them I don't want to join them, I was feeling really lazy to go out and the heat is different, like it won't let you go out and have fun. It's really just heat and no wind. Damn the weather nowadays. My insistent Mom keeps telling me that my cousins who are close to me will also join. I was thinking and mumbling.
By 8:00, while all of them were busy changing, I decided to take a left turn and join them. I told myself I don't want to spend my night in front of the computer and ogle at tech stuff, blogs, and porn. Heck, that's my lifestyle during weekdays! Weekends should be all about booze and getting loose. I immediately went upstairs to check what I can wear on a hot summer night, rummaged through my closet and chose a plain white shirt and plaid shorts. Cool. Ironed it, went down and changed.
By 9:30pm, my dad who picked my cousin and aunt in a condo in Rockwell arrived. I was sleepy but I'm still willing to go out. It's still early. I was back in the bathroom when he arrived, I took a bath again. Duh!
By 10:00pm, we were already at the place. Geez! I haven't seen the place for more than a couple of years already and I must say, I got lost just trying to check where the pet shops are. Me and my whack internal GPS.
Some of my relatives were already there getting drunk and eating all those horrible (at least for me) finger foods. Greasy, fat-laden and sky-high cholesterol infused. Gross. I wouldn't even touch those even if those were the last pieces of edible food on earth. Haha!
Just kidding. I may try one or two pieces.
In my family, the male species outnumber the female. Meaning it's a very macho, masculine, rough and rowdy set of family members. So I will always be one of the most quiet when it comes to gatherings and reunions. I guess this is a good thing although sometimes they think I'm too shy and don't get to interact with a lot of people much. But sometimes, I bring out my loud side, when I think it's safe to bring it out on the open. Call me a person who likes to play safe most of the time. And besides, most of them are homophobic. Yes, I don't want to tell them yet who I am because I know they will get discriminatory and derogatory. Even if I am already at the top of my game. That is a sad truth I have yet to face. But the good thing here is that I'm willing to strike the right notes when I'm already emancipated from my parents so that they could see how much I can grow as a person even though I have a different perspective from them, from most of them.
At the venue, they were eating pork fritters and pork innards, they were laughing like pirates on a ship during a maiden voyage, they were punching and bumping each other like football players on a field, they were ridiculing each other that would make a girl cry, wail and walk away in vain. And I was there, being silent because I know alcohol and drunk straight men ain't a sight to behold.
They ordered a lot of alcohol! I can say that it's really a lot because even though the alcohol ban got implemented by midnight, some of them were still trying to finish off everything we ordered. It was funny seeing them trying to finish the beers and making fun of each other. Something I could appreciate in them.
At the beginning of the session, they ordered for San Miguel Light. Something to start the night right and get the fun rolling. Then some of my cousins felt that they weren't getting their much needed drunkenness and alcoholic hallucinosis so they opted to get a few bottles of Red Horse just to make sure that they'll be kicked in the right uh, parts? Anyway, they were more rowdy than before when they drank the Red Horse than the San Miguel Light. Straight men and their straight world. I can't seem to find an opening where to fit in or at least make a real connection with them.
San Miguel, check!
Red Horse, check!
Hey Guyrony, you're not drinking! A cousin of mine told me when she saw me gnawing at the Calamares and Nachos.
I will, I haven't eaten dinner yet so I don't wanna induce further toxins in my body, not yet. I replied.
What do you want to drink anyway? She asked.
Let's see what they offer. In a bit though. Was my answer to her.
After snacking/binging/eating dinner, my cousin asked the menu from a waitress and handed it to me. I checked their offerings:
Bailey's? No, not today. Too creamy and strong tasting liquor.
Kamikazee? No, I don't feel like committing today.
Sex on the Beach? Let's see, I've done it in our house, in another person's house, in a condo, in a motel, in a public park, in a fire exit, and in a comfort room but not yet on a beach. No, not that one.
Blow Job? Hello. :)
After much deliberation and skepticism.
After much ado and postponement.
After much analyzing and figuring out on what to drink.
I selected something that wouldn't brand me as a weirdo.
I opted something that would balance out the machismo in the family.
I ordered something that would best represent who I am as a person of courage.
A drink that would make me feel a man in full virility.
An Artic Strawberry, please!
And take note, it was served in a wine glass.
Wahahahahahaha!
Seriously, the day before last night, I had some spontaneous skin allergy which required me to take an anti-histamine hence I feel so drugged and weak after waking up. And it didn't stop there, oh no, all throughout the day I was so sleepy and my actions were slow that some people might think I was having manifestations of Alzheimer's. Early-onset Alzheimer's. Yikes!
Anyway, I pushed myself to join them even though I don't feel like going. You know that feeling where everyone pushes you into something you don't like? That's the feeling. My persistent Mom keeps insisting I go with them since this might be the last time I could bond with them for they will fly back by the 12th of May.
That was in a short notice because I only knew that we were going to Tiendesita's after I jogged at around 6pm. I was thinking maybe I should just stay home and do more interesting stuff or maybe go out when midnight comes (tugsh, tugsh, tugsh, tugsh).
Hmmm...the choices a person has to make to maximize the most time on a weekend. This can really surface my critical thinking skills! Oh, great! Neuron fritters coming up!
The time we should leave is by 9pm. I still have a lot of time given the fact that I don't want to overdress anymore (I give my time and attention when clubbing at Malate) but since I think it wouldn't matter because, well, I know we won't dance there anyway and I can sense that cute boys will be near to non-existent. After taking a bath, I played the PS2 and grinded my thumbs. Hell, that was relaxing. Beating opponents to a pulp and not letting them see the life and light. I'm so evil!
By 7:30pm, I told them I don't want to join them, I was feeling really lazy to go out and the heat is different, like it won't let you go out and have fun. It's really just heat and no wind. Damn the weather nowadays. My insistent Mom keeps telling me that my cousins who are close to me will also join. I was thinking and mumbling.
By 8:00, while all of them were busy changing, I decided to take a left turn and join them. I told myself I don't want to spend my night in front of the computer and ogle at tech stuff, blogs, and porn. Heck, that's my lifestyle during weekdays! Weekends should be all about booze and getting loose. I immediately went upstairs to check what I can wear on a hot summer night, rummaged through my closet and chose a plain white shirt and plaid shorts. Cool. Ironed it, went down and changed.
By 9:30pm, my dad who picked my cousin and aunt in a condo in Rockwell arrived. I was sleepy but I'm still willing to go out. It's still early. I was back in the bathroom when he arrived, I took a bath again. Duh!
By 10:00pm, we were already at the place. Geez! I haven't seen the place for more than a couple of years already and I must say, I got lost just trying to check where the pet shops are. Me and my whack internal GPS.
Some of my relatives were already there getting drunk and eating all those horrible (at least for me) finger foods. Greasy, fat-laden and sky-high cholesterol infused. Gross. I wouldn't even touch those even if those were the last pieces of edible food on earth. Haha!
Just kidding. I may try one or two pieces.
In my family, the male species outnumber the female. Meaning it's a very macho, masculine, rough and rowdy set of family members. So I will always be one of the most quiet when it comes to gatherings and reunions. I guess this is a good thing although sometimes they think I'm too shy and don't get to interact with a lot of people much. But sometimes, I bring out my loud side, when I think it's safe to bring it out on the open. Call me a person who likes to play safe most of the time. And besides, most of them are homophobic. Yes, I don't want to tell them yet who I am because I know they will get discriminatory and derogatory. Even if I am already at the top of my game. That is a sad truth I have yet to face. But the good thing here is that I'm willing to strike the right notes when I'm already emancipated from my parents so that they could see how much I can grow as a person even though I have a different perspective from them, from most of them.
At the venue, they were eating pork fritters and pork innards, they were laughing like pirates on a ship during a maiden voyage, they were punching and bumping each other like football players on a field, they were ridiculing each other that would make a girl cry, wail and walk away in vain. And I was there, being silent because I know alcohol and drunk straight men ain't a sight to behold.
They ordered a lot of alcohol! I can say that it's really a lot because even though the alcohol ban got implemented by midnight, some of them were still trying to finish off everything we ordered. It was funny seeing them trying to finish the beers and making fun of each other. Something I could appreciate in them.
At the beginning of the session, they ordered for San Miguel Light. Something to start the night right and get the fun rolling. Then some of my cousins felt that they weren't getting their much needed drunkenness and alcoholic hallucinosis so they opted to get a few bottles of Red Horse just to make sure that they'll be kicked in the right uh, parts? Anyway, they were more rowdy than before when they drank the Red Horse than the San Miguel Light. Straight men and their straight world. I can't seem to find an opening where to fit in or at least make a real connection with them.
San Miguel, check!
Red Horse, check!
Hey Guyrony, you're not drinking! A cousin of mine told me when she saw me gnawing at the Calamares and Nachos.
I will, I haven't eaten dinner yet so I don't wanna induce further toxins in my body, not yet. I replied.
What do you want to drink anyway? She asked.
Let's see what they offer. In a bit though. Was my answer to her.
After snacking/binging/eating dinner, my cousin asked the menu from a waitress and handed it to me. I checked their offerings:
Bailey's? No, not today. Too creamy and strong tasting liquor.
Kamikazee? No, I don't feel like committing today.
Sex on the Beach? Let's see, I've done it in our house, in another person's house, in a condo, in a motel, in a public park, in a fire exit, and in a comfort room but not yet on a beach. No, not that one.
Blow Job? Hello. :)
After much deliberation and skepticism.
After much ado and postponement.
After much analyzing and figuring out on what to drink.
I selected something that wouldn't brand me as a weirdo.
I opted something that would balance out the machismo in the family.
I ordered something that would best represent who I am as a person of courage.
A drink that would make me feel a man in full virility.
An Artic Strawberry, please!
And take note, it was served in a wine glass.
Wahahahahahaha!
Friday, May 7, 2010
Something to Ponder About
One of the most hurtful experiences,
Is when a person didn't have any intentions to hurt you at all.
Is when a person didn't have any intentions to hurt you at all.
Something to Ponder About
When everything has been said and done,
You won't miss the person,
But of the cherished moments together.
You won't miss the person,
But of the cherished moments together.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
My Day Today
Here's a schedule of what transpired in my life today:
4:15am - got out of bed
4:20am - ironed clothes to wear for today
4:30am - finished ironing clothes then went down to have coffee
4:35am - turned on the computer, just in case someone wants to hook-up :)
4:40am - started washing dishes
5:00am - done with the dishes (finally!)
5:05am - checked blog for comments and checked other bloggers if they posted anything new and interesting to think through the whole day
5:10am - sat down for a bit and read a few blogs
5:20am - went to the comfort room to have some uhm, comfort
5:30am - successful comforting myself and proceeded to the bathroom to take some much needed bath
5:35am - hastily dressing up because my shift starts at 6am
5:40am - clinical polo done, clinical pants done, eyeliner done, blush-on done, foundation done, lip gloss not yet done. Hahahaha, as if!
5:50am - I was able to get out of the house, sorry, I had smudges all over my face.
6:00am - I was able to ride the necessary vehicles in order for me to get to work safely
6:15am - I was able to reach the Institution. Late as usual. What's new?
6:20am - 9:00am - did some nursing duties and responsibilities while waiting for the ambulance to take us to a hospital for clients to have their chest x-ray for possible or cleared up Pulmonary Tubercolosis. Huwaaat?!
10:30am - was surprised to see a former batch mate of mine in the hospital, Clinical Instructor at a University. Green with envy, left the bench where we were talking
11:00am - done and done with the chest x-ray, will be getting the results tomorrow
12:00pm - went around to check clients ranging from the pre-teens to geriatrics, assessed their situation and got tired of waving every now and then, hello, rapport-building to the max!
12:30pm - went to the kitchen to get the food for lunch, good thing! I wasn't able to eat breakfast! I'm darn hungry!
1:00pm - already eating lunch, surprisingly, a very bitter bittergourd with very minute, microscopic, nearly invisible pieces of meat, good thing it's rice day for me today, the bitterness was compensated by the semi-sweet taste of rice
1:30pm - went outside and checked the nearby mall. Drooled over a Topman shirt again. I have to buy this before Fashion Week starts. Take note: Topman not Top and Man. There's a huge difference. Although the latter ain't a bad thing at all.
2:30pm - went back to the Institution, just waiting for 3pm to hit and then Yoohoo! My glorious bed, here I cum, I mean come!
3:05pm - Ding! Dong! Time to go home! Wahahahaha!
3:05 - 3:15pm - Damn the sun and its raging glory! I thought I was walking in the Sahara for pete's sake.
4:00pm - was able to go home in one piece although the heat is really getting on my nerves, I literally felt darker, no, blacker while walking and I'm not even the white-ish complexion to begin with.
4:30pm - drank water (tons of it) done, took a bath done, went upstairs done, what was missing?
4:31pm - playing porn in my Ipod ongoing! Sorry! I have to have something in order for me to sleep well.
4:32pm - stroking, stroking, stroking
4:33pm - stroking and moaning, stroking and moaning, stroking and moaning
4:34pm - stroking and moaning and groaning, stroking and moaning and groaning, stroking and moaning and groaning
4:35pm - couldn't...contain...any...longer...
4:36pm - Nirvana
4:37pm - KO from the fight. It was a good one!
5:30pm - woke up from the ringing of the alarm, turned it off
5:35pm - getting a hard-on, again. AGAIN? That's the first time for this year, to have two hard-ons in less than a couple of hours' gap. The last time I had this was before New Year, literally.
Three weeks of no sex and what have I done to myself? Geez...
5:40pm - reached another Nirvana but of a lesser extent
6:00pm - went down to prepare for gym
6:15pm - got out the house with my sling bag and my ipod in place. Music playing: I Got it From My Mama. It so suits me. :)
6:35pm - arrived at the gym, no crush in sight, sad, but life must go on
7:00pm - finished doing some cardio, I swear, I need more than a towel next time I have a session
7:01pm - second crush in sight! Manly, stands 5'5 tall, white-ish complexion, nearly bald trim, with eyes and body to boot. Licking him is an understatement.
7:01 - 9:00pm - worked my shoulders done, worked my abs (or flabs?) done, traded quick glances done
I'm such a tease!
9:05pm - on my way home after a very tiring and grueling work-out. Music playing: Boom Boom Pow.
Note to self: I need thisbadly.
9:20pm - arrived home safely, placed soiled towel in the hamper and went in the bath room
9:30pm - turned on the computer again, looking for new posts and what not. I know, this is what I do nearly every day
10:30pm - gave up on the slow and buggy internet connection, might as well watch America's Next Top Model
10: 55pm - gave up on ANTM, I have to check the net again
11:00pm - 12:00mn - blogging this uniquely boring day of mine.
Sometimes, you see yourself as someone having a plain and quite dull lifestyle, but as long as you're learning something, and you keep that in mind, then you see yourself as being a better person.
That's what matters the most.
P.S. Don't even get me started on watching porn again, I'm gonna have a sperm deficit by the age of 25 for crying out loud. I'll save this for tomorrow.
:)
4:15am - got out of bed
4:20am - ironed clothes to wear for today
4:30am - finished ironing clothes then went down to have coffee
4:35am - turned on the computer, just in case someone wants to hook-up :)
4:40am - started washing dishes
5:00am - done with the dishes (finally!)
5:05am - checked blog for comments and checked other bloggers if they posted anything new and interesting to think through the whole day
5:10am - sat down for a bit and read a few blogs
5:20am - went to the comfort room to have some uhm, comfort
5:30am - successful comforting myself and proceeded to the bathroom to take some much needed bath
5:35am - hastily dressing up because my shift starts at 6am
5:40am - clinical polo done, clinical pants done, eyeliner done, blush-on done, foundation done, lip gloss not yet done. Hahahaha, as if!
5:50am - I was able to get out of the house, sorry, I had smudges all over my face.
6:00am - I was able to ride the necessary vehicles in order for me to get to work safely
6:15am - I was able to reach the Institution. Late as usual. What's new?
6:20am - 9:00am - did some nursing duties and responsibilities while waiting for the ambulance to take us to a hospital for clients to have their chest x-ray for possible or cleared up Pulmonary Tubercolosis. Huwaaat?!
10:30am - was surprised to see a former batch mate of mine in the hospital, Clinical Instructor at a University. Green with envy, left the bench where we were talking
11:00am - done and done with the chest x-ray, will be getting the results tomorrow
12:00pm - went around to check clients ranging from the pre-teens to geriatrics, assessed their situation and got tired of waving every now and then, hello, rapport-building to the max!
12:30pm - went to the kitchen to get the food for lunch, good thing! I wasn't able to eat breakfast! I'm darn hungry!
1:00pm - already eating lunch, surprisingly, a very bitter bittergourd with very minute, microscopic, nearly invisible pieces of meat, good thing it's rice day for me today, the bitterness was compensated by the semi-sweet taste of rice
1:30pm - went outside and checked the nearby mall. Drooled over a Topman shirt again. I have to buy this before Fashion Week starts. Take note: Topman not Top and Man. There's a huge difference. Although the latter ain't a bad thing at all.
2:30pm - went back to the Institution, just waiting for 3pm to hit and then Yoohoo! My glorious bed, here I cum, I mean come!
3:05pm - Ding! Dong! Time to go home! Wahahahaha!
3:05 - 3:15pm - Damn the sun and its raging glory! I thought I was walking in the Sahara for pete's sake.
4:00pm - was able to go home in one piece although the heat is really getting on my nerves, I literally felt darker, no, blacker while walking and I'm not even the white-ish complexion to begin with.
4:30pm - drank water (tons of it) done, took a bath done, went upstairs done, what was missing?
4:31pm - playing porn in my Ipod ongoing! Sorry! I have to have something in order for me to sleep well.
4:32pm - stroking, stroking, stroking
4:33pm - stroking and moaning, stroking and moaning, stroking and moaning
4:34pm - stroking and moaning and groaning, stroking and moaning and groaning, stroking and moaning and groaning
4:35pm - couldn't...contain...any...longer...
4:36pm - Nirvana
4:37pm - KO from the fight. It was a good one!
5:30pm - woke up from the ringing of the alarm, turned it off
5:35pm - getting a hard-on, again. AGAIN? That's the first time for this year, to have two hard-ons in less than a couple of hours' gap. The last time I had this was before New Year, literally.
Three weeks of no sex and what have I done to myself? Geez...
5:40pm - reached another Nirvana but of a lesser extent
6:00pm - went down to prepare for gym
6:15pm - got out the house with my sling bag and my ipod in place. Music playing: I Got it From My Mama. It so suits me. :)
6:35pm - arrived at the gym, no crush in sight, sad, but life must go on
7:00pm - finished doing some cardio, I swear, I need more than a towel next time I have a session
7:01pm - second crush in sight! Manly, stands 5'5 tall, white-ish complexion, nearly bald trim, with eyes and body to boot. Licking him is an understatement.
7:01 - 9:00pm - worked my shoulders done, worked my abs (or flabs?) done, traded quick glances done
I'm such a tease!
9:05pm - on my way home after a very tiring and grueling work-out. Music playing: Boom Boom Pow.
Note to self: I need this
9:20pm - arrived home safely, placed soiled towel in the hamper and went in the bath room
9:30pm - turned on the computer again, looking for new posts and what not. I know, this is what I do nearly every day
10:30pm - gave up on the slow and buggy internet connection, might as well watch America's Next Top Model
10: 55pm - gave up on ANTM, I have to check the net again
11:00pm - 12:00mn - blogging this uniquely boring day of mine.
Sometimes, you see yourself as someone having a plain and quite dull lifestyle, but as long as you're learning something, and you keep that in mind, then you see yourself as being a better person.
That's what matters the most.
P.S. Don't even get me started on watching porn again, I'm gonna have a sperm deficit by the age of 25 for crying out loud. I'll save this for tomorrow.
:)
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
O Dear!
I was pacing around our house that night, it was a Saturday and what better thing to do aside from surfing the net all night or playing the PS2 is to go out and have some wholesome fun (subjectively speaking).
I was texting people, people who I know go out every weekend to relax, unwind, and frolic in a sea of men. So, there I was, going up and down the house, checking my phone for an update if I'll be going out with them or not, trying on shirts for the best outfit possible. Multi-tasking.
I'm excited, I don't know why. Perhaps, because it was the first time I'll go out after more than a month of not hanging-out at clubs.
Ten o' clock passed and still no text from J, I was getting worried, questions already boiling up in my head:
What if they don't like to hang with me?
What if they find me too talkative?
What if they see me as a little brother who they should take care of all the time?
What if, they really don't find me amusing to be with?
What if this? What if that?
What if I just relax and stay calm?
After a few minutes of wrestling with my brain on useless questions, I sat down and played the PS2. But that didn't last, I want to get out of the house, heck, it's a Saturday night for crying out loud, people, especially people like me get out on a Saturday. Party, booze, french kisses, ribbed condoms and stuff like that.
I texted J: Hey, let me know if you guys will still go somewhere after the movie, alright! Update me by 11:30. Thanks.
There!
A desperate and pathetic attempt in order for me to know if they'll really go to a club that night or not. Because if they're not, then I might as well stay home and wait for the next weekend. Currently, I just figured I need company when hanging in a bar. I don't want to be seen as a single, loner, attractive guy who wants a hook-up whenever he could. Nyahaha!
I stopped playing, I turned off the console and tried to watch television. It seems to work, I got distracted for a bit. I surfed the channels, focused on some shows, then changed it to MTV. Damn! They're playing Techno and House music. Arrrrgggghhhh! I turned the television off. I had to calm my senses, I was getting erratic and hyper again.
And so I did. After ironing out what I will wear if ever I'll be going out, I looked at my bed and it seems inviting. I looked at the time 11:00pm, J and the others are still in the Movie House watching. I lied down, stretched my limbs, got a good grip on my pillow and started humping it, just kidding, I clasped the pillow tightly in my arms and tried to get a nap for the short span of time.
By 11:15 an acquaintance of mine named Mac texted me: Hey, where are you?
In which I gladly replied: I'm at home. I wanna go out. Let's go to Malate!
After a few seconds he replied: Sure, I'm already at NLEX.
I just remembered, he came from an out of town trip but the good thing is that he's game for a night of partying.
Suddenly, I was losing hope that J and the guys will go out tonight. Maybe by next week they will. I said to myself.
After doing a series of replies to Mac I hurried myself to go to the wash room then proceed to the bath room then to my room to change.
Finally! The much needed rest and relaxation I've been wanting is near! Go-go boys here I come! :)
While I was dressing up, a text appeared. I opened my phone, read who is the sender and read the message.
It was from J and it read: Hey, me and the guys will be heading to O Bar, Ortigas.
O Bar? Oh yeah, the newly-built club in Ortigas. I've heard of bad comments there but since I'm desperate and my feet are itching to go out then I might as well try it there once.
I texted Mac: Change of plan, going to O Bar ,Ortigas.
Mac agreed and I went on my way to Ortigas.
Being a person without a knack for directions or any sense of directions, I was texting J most of the time where the hell O Bar is. I thought it would be near Megamall but I was wrong. So wrong. And all the while I thought I could actually walk from Megamall to O Bar.
I could but then by the time I get there I'm as sweaty as a pig on a hot summer day. Good thing though is that Mac and his friend CK saw me walking along J.Vargas all by my lonesome and let me ride with them in the cab.
We arrived around 1:30am. Fashionably late as usual. There were numerous people, fewer than Bed I must say. Most of the people there, I don't see going to Bed.
New club, new culture, new faces, new bookings.
I greeted J and the other guys with my usual bravado with a hint of perkiness. I hugged all of them and tried to be entertained by the drag show.
Cool!
Amusing!
Entertaining!
Worth Seeing!
Funny and Hilarious!
These are the words that best describe the show. I was laughing my head off because of the impersonations. Hey, I like these types of entertainment. Maybe I could join someday. Hehehe.
After a series of four drag songs the party light started and it was time to move my feet and shake my body.
Woohoo! This is what I've been waiting for! Let's get it on all night long!
Unfortunately, after 30 minutes of body bumping and body grinding, another series of drag show started. Although I still find them hilarious and amusing, I was feeling a bit miffed. I'm definitely alright with one or two drag shows like what Bed has been offering but three to four drag shows AGAIN! I didn't pay 200 pesos just to see a drag show marathon. I was there to dance, mingle because I'm pseudo-single and burn calories.
Good thing is that after the series of shows the party light started again and I dragged J to the ledge. Hey, call me attention whore or attention seeker, I love the ledge!
Another good hour of dancing and then the lights went on again, I literally said: Oh no! Not again!
But I can't complain to my friends, they're not the management.
Guess what? Another drag show started.
I apologized but they literally suck. The whole experience is just too draggy for me. If I wanted a series of drag shows, I could do them myself and have way more fun!
We left earlier than when we leave from Bed. Really earlier.
O Bar, you're O Banned in my list.
I was texting people, people who I know go out every weekend to relax, unwind, and frolic in a sea of men. So, there I was, going up and down the house, checking my phone for an update if I'll be going out with them or not, trying on shirts for the best outfit possible. Multi-tasking.
I'm excited, I don't know why. Perhaps, because it was the first time I'll go out after more than a month of not hanging-out at clubs.
Ten o' clock passed and still no text from J, I was getting worried, questions already boiling up in my head:
What if they don't like to hang with me?
What if they find me too talkative?
What if they see me as a little brother who they should take care of all the time?
What if, they really don't find me amusing to be with?
What if this? What if that?
What if I just relax and stay calm?
After a few minutes of wrestling with my brain on useless questions, I sat down and played the PS2. But that didn't last, I want to get out of the house, heck, it's a Saturday night for crying out loud, people, especially people like me get out on a Saturday. Party, booze, french kisses, ribbed condoms and stuff like that.
I texted J: Hey, let me know if you guys will still go somewhere after the movie, alright! Update me by 11:30. Thanks.
There!
A desperate and pathetic attempt in order for me to know if they'll really go to a club that night or not. Because if they're not, then I might as well stay home and wait for the next weekend. Currently, I just figured I need company when hanging in a bar. I don't want to be seen as a single, loner, attractive guy who wants a hook-up whenever he could. Nyahaha!
I stopped playing, I turned off the console and tried to watch television. It seems to work, I got distracted for a bit. I surfed the channels, focused on some shows, then changed it to MTV. Damn! They're playing Techno and House music. Arrrrgggghhhh! I turned the television off. I had to calm my senses, I was getting erratic and hyper again.
And so I did. After ironing out what I will wear if ever I'll be going out, I looked at my bed and it seems inviting. I looked at the time 11:00pm, J and the others are still in the Movie House watching. I lied down, stretched my limbs, got a good grip on my pillow and started humping it, just kidding, I clasped the pillow tightly in my arms and tried to get a nap for the short span of time.
By 11:15 an acquaintance of mine named Mac texted me: Hey, where are you?
In which I gladly replied: I'm at home. I wanna go out. Let's go to Malate!
After a few seconds he replied: Sure, I'm already at NLEX.
I just remembered, he came from an out of town trip but the good thing is that he's game for a night of partying.
Suddenly, I was losing hope that J and the guys will go out tonight. Maybe by next week they will. I said to myself.
After doing a series of replies to Mac I hurried myself to go to the wash room then proceed to the bath room then to my room to change.
Finally! The much needed rest and relaxation I've been wanting is near! Go-go boys here I come! :)
While I was dressing up, a text appeared. I opened my phone, read who is the sender and read the message.
It was from J and it read: Hey, me and the guys will be heading to O Bar, Ortigas.
O Bar? Oh yeah, the newly-built club in Ortigas. I've heard of bad comments there but since I'm desperate and my feet are itching to go out then I might as well try it there once.
I texted Mac: Change of plan, going to O Bar ,Ortigas.
Mac agreed and I went on my way to Ortigas.
Being a person without a knack for directions or any sense of directions, I was texting J most of the time where the hell O Bar is. I thought it would be near Megamall but I was wrong. So wrong. And all the while I thought I could actually walk from Megamall to O Bar.
I could but then by the time I get there I'm as sweaty as a pig on a hot summer day. Good thing though is that Mac and his friend CK saw me walking along J.Vargas all by my lonesome and let me ride with them in the cab.
We arrived around 1:30am. Fashionably late as usual. There were numerous people, fewer than Bed I must say. Most of the people there, I don't see going to Bed.
New club, new culture, new faces, new bookings.
I greeted J and the other guys with my usual bravado with a hint of perkiness. I hugged all of them and tried to be entertained by the drag show.
Cool!
Amusing!
Entertaining!
Worth Seeing!
Funny and Hilarious!
These are the words that best describe the show. I was laughing my head off because of the impersonations. Hey, I like these types of entertainment. Maybe I could join someday. Hehehe.
After a series of four drag songs the party light started and it was time to move my feet and shake my body.
Woohoo! This is what I've been waiting for! Let's get it on all night long!
Unfortunately, after 30 minutes of body bumping and body grinding, another series of drag show started. Although I still find them hilarious and amusing, I was feeling a bit miffed. I'm definitely alright with one or two drag shows like what Bed has been offering but three to four drag shows AGAIN! I didn't pay 200 pesos just to see a drag show marathon. I was there to dance, mingle because I'm pseudo-single and burn calories.
Good thing is that after the series of shows the party light started again and I dragged J to the ledge. Hey, call me attention whore or attention seeker, I love the ledge!
Another good hour of dancing and then the lights went on again, I literally said: Oh no! Not again!
But I can't complain to my friends, they're not the management.
Guess what? Another drag show started.
I apologized but they literally suck. The whole experience is just too draggy for me. If I wanted a series of drag shows, I could do them myself and have way more fun!
We left earlier than when we leave from Bed. Really earlier.
O Bar, you're O Banned in my list.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
This Wasn't Necessary
Person 1: Gays are Abnormal
Person 2: No, gays are not abnormal, it's the people who can't understand them who are.
Person 2: No, gays are not abnormal, it's the people who can't understand them who are.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Something to Ponder About
Forgive and Forget is an Epigram Worth Experiencing.
But,
One Can Only Grasp Much of the Concept.
But,
One Can Only Grasp Much of the Concept.
Of Facades, Windows, and Masks
Everyone wants to be their best.
Maybe that's why we go into different mode of personalities whenever we enter a situation which requires us to. It's innate and we are all subconsciously, preconsciously or consciously doing it
But how come, some people do it in extreme measures?
Hiding.
Providing Pseudonyms.
Creating a Grandiose Biography.
Narrating tales higher than Burj al-Khalifa.
You see what I mean?
We want to be someone, that is absolutely true, but it doesn't mean we have to be someone we're not.
Are facades really necessary in order to portray a person of great charisma, character and strength?
Are masks adequate to play a you that is but of someone?
Or we can be the one, the genuine one, the true one, the real one?
One of the main reasons why we do it is to leave a footprint, an irremovable one, something that could define us as who we are.
I couldn't blame them for hiding though. When tough situation calls for it, the best thing to do is to hide behind a velvet curtain.
I can still remember a guy I dated...
Stewie was telling me all these stories that he is a local flight steward. He would spontaneously be texting me at the middle of the day just telling me that the plane already landed in Davao or Cebu or Iloilo or wherever he really is that time. Sometimes, he would be texting me early morning just to tell me that he's already on his way to the airport and quite pissed because he barely had enough sleep. Other times he would ask permission if he can turn off his phone because the flight will take place in a few minutes. And of course I believed him that time because, well, I was giving him the benefit of the doubt.
That person is really someone.
A very good narrator. I have to applaud him the next time I see him again. If I see him.
That was April last year.
Then about December of last year, someone was sending me messages in FS, a guy named Toffer, a Medical Representative from a Multinational Company. What caught my attention was not his face, nor body, nor what his friends had to say about him but how he is connected to Stewie. I still quite couldn't connect the pieces of the puzzle.
That made me think hard, hard-on. I asked him about it and told me that the guy is his cousin.
Cousin? That made me scratch my head.
Two gay guys in a clan? Forbidden but delicious! :)
But of course, the overly suspicious me doesn't wanna believe him, call it gut feeling, or man's instinct. So I asked him again and this time he confessed that Stewie was his ex.
I swear I wanted to do a double somersault plus a back flip right then and there.
A supposed flight steward courted and then here comes his ex who wants to court me. My long hair flowed like a virgin waterfall out to purify the people bathing under the current.
Of course me asking him about his ex was inevitable, a few questions and interrogations led me to answers that shocked me for a while.
Apparently, Stewie is really a Medical Representative, he never was a Flight Steward in all his life. So that made me think, then what were those texts? All fraudulent and deceitful? It made me realize that Thank God I didn't give in to temptations, although, we spent a night together.
Note: spent the night not slept with him the whole night.
So the whole time that we were communicating, was it all a lie? A cover-up on who he really is? For what? So that I would get attracted to him more? I seriously wanted to ask him WTF?!
I wanted to get back at him and ask him things to blow his cover up but I didn't think it was needed. Maybe he has his selfish reasons. Maybe he has his unselfish reasons. Maybe he has no reasons at all.
Truly, truly astounding, he made me believe his stories, his narration, his anecdotes on everyday living when all the while, he was really not doing those, or maybe he is, but I don't care anymore. That alone says I had enough of him and his world.
Maybe it's an ego boost for most us since the people that we meet anonymously don't really know us and it's a good way to conceal experiences that we don't really want to blurt out or is just not worth blurting out but weaving a series of delusional stories to cover up who we are? Aren't we too desperate to do that? If I had known any better I would categorize you as a schizophrenic and not in a genius kind of way.
Seriously, the only time I used my pseudonym was for an HIV Test, I have never created stories for the sake of people or a person getting more interested in me. What you see is what you get. I may not have the best decisions, the best philosophies, the greatest coping mechanism, the best personality, the greatest attributes, the perfect skills but you do get someone true to himself, albeit in an imperfect, incomplete package.
Placing your best foot forward is different from placing someone's best foot forward.
Part 2
Maybe that's why we go into different mode of personalities whenever we enter a situation which requires us to. It's innate and we are all subconsciously, preconsciously or consciously doing it
But how come, some people do it in extreme measures?
Hiding.
Providing Pseudonyms.
Creating a Grandiose Biography.
Narrating tales higher than Burj al-Khalifa.
You see what I mean?
We want to be someone, that is absolutely true, but it doesn't mean we have to be someone we're not.
Are facades really necessary in order to portray a person of great charisma, character and strength?
Are masks adequate to play a you that is but of someone?
Or we can be the one, the genuine one, the true one, the real one?
One of the main reasons why we do it is to leave a footprint, an irremovable one, something that could define us as who we are.
I couldn't blame them for hiding though. When tough situation calls for it, the best thing to do is to hide behind a velvet curtain.
I can still remember a guy I dated...
Stewie was telling me all these stories that he is a local flight steward. He would spontaneously be texting me at the middle of the day just telling me that the plane already landed in Davao or Cebu or Iloilo or wherever he really is that time. Sometimes, he would be texting me early morning just to tell me that he's already on his way to the airport and quite pissed because he barely had enough sleep. Other times he would ask permission if he can turn off his phone because the flight will take place in a few minutes. And of course I believed him that time because, well, I was giving him the benefit of the doubt.
That person is really someone.
A very good narrator. I have to applaud him the next time I see him again. If I see him.
That was April last year.
Then about December of last year, someone was sending me messages in FS, a guy named Toffer, a Medical Representative from a Multinational Company. What caught my attention was not his face, nor body, nor what his friends had to say about him but how he is connected to Stewie. I still quite couldn't connect the pieces of the puzzle.
That made me think hard, hard-on. I asked him about it and told me that the guy is his cousin.
Cousin? That made me scratch my head.
Two gay guys in a clan? Forbidden but delicious! :)
But of course, the overly suspicious me doesn't wanna believe him, call it gut feeling, or man's instinct. So I asked him again and this time he confessed that Stewie was his ex.
I swear I wanted to do a double somersault plus a back flip right then and there.
A supposed flight steward courted and then here comes his ex who wants to court me. My long hair flowed like a virgin waterfall out to purify the people bathing under the current.
Of course me asking him about his ex was inevitable, a few questions and interrogations led me to answers that shocked me for a while.
Apparently, Stewie is really a Medical Representative, he never was a Flight Steward in all his life. So that made me think, then what were those texts? All fraudulent and deceitful? It made me realize that Thank God I didn't give in to temptations, although, we spent a night together.
Note: spent the night not slept with him the whole night.
So the whole time that we were communicating, was it all a lie? A cover-up on who he really is? For what? So that I would get attracted to him more? I seriously wanted to ask him WTF?!
I wanted to get back at him and ask him things to blow his cover up but I didn't think it was needed. Maybe he has his selfish reasons. Maybe he has his unselfish reasons. Maybe he has no reasons at all.
Truly, truly astounding, he made me believe his stories, his narration, his anecdotes on everyday living when all the while, he was really not doing those, or maybe he is, but I don't care anymore. That alone says I had enough of him and his world.
Maybe it's an ego boost for most us since the people that we meet anonymously don't really know us and it's a good way to conceal experiences that we don't really want to blurt out or is just not worth blurting out but weaving a series of delusional stories to cover up who we are? Aren't we too desperate to do that? If I had known any better I would categorize you as a schizophrenic and not in a genius kind of way.
Seriously, the only time I used my pseudonym was for an HIV Test, I have never created stories for the sake of people or a person getting more interested in me. What you see is what you get. I may not have the best decisions, the best philosophies, the greatest coping mechanism, the best personality, the greatest attributes, the perfect skills but you do get someone true to himself, albeit in an imperfect, incomplete package.
Placing your best foot forward is different from placing someone's best foot forward.
Part 2
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