Sunday, May 31, 2009

Scorpion Week - At The Twilight's Edge

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

- Oscar Wilde

The monsoon downpour have began in earnest, leaving the empty streets damp and the frigid air with desolation. It is the final night of the Scorpion Week and after enduring seven days of cruel temptations, I hailed a cab for one last serving of a hedonist's ambrosia before I step down and abandon my quest.


The idea took shape on the raunchy steps of the ledge. Searching for a dance partner to get acquainted, I pulled every trick in the book to reach out and make friends. I know that the week ahead would be fought with solitude. The utol will be out of the house and having the free reign to follow my urges, skidding over a thin sheet of ice called lust has this dangerous appeal to me.

I left the bar empty handed that night. Gone are my plans that went up, like smoke puffed from a stick of cigarette. My idea was to meet someone, get intimate, and when the one night stand (or whatever form it manifests) create an atmosphere of passionate attachment, I would invite the guy home for a week-long sleep-over.

But things never turn out what visions see. Instead, I did skid over a thin sheet ice and at times, almost had me being swallowed by the sub-zero waters below. The cold callings of libog was everywhere and I would have been frozen stiff had it not for my stubborn belief that something warmer awaits me on the other side of the ice sheet.


People may ask why put so much drama on a natural act that means nothing to many. I've seen them. Same names; same titillating advertisement posted on sex channels in the internet. You read them say "Trip, trip lang." While the most seasoned ones would open their conversation not by friendly introductions but by cutting the chase and asking for your face-picture instead. At a hindsight, I can't help but feel pity for these men. Corrupted by a life revolving around physical looks. I could almost see them jumping from one bed, dripping still of fluids coming from their orifice, to another bed without any afterthought at how wasteful and draining it is to go around sleeping with different men.

In the end, they become a slave to their nature. Night and day, week after week, they scan the chatrooms and beyond for a quick fix to address their deeper longings. If declined, they move on without saying a word. If a partner gets attached, they flee and make sure not to leave a trace. They fear complications of emotions. They worry about being hurt and after so many orgasms and countless encounters, they end up getting jaded.

They begin to see everything as merely passing moments.


Friends say sex is just sex.

Its purpose, for pleasure, or for straight couples, to breathe new life into this world. Their claims are irrefutable but I found them deem incomplete in thought. Knowing its immensity and sophistication, sex can be a tool of self-destruction, a power which can twist one's hierarchy in his order or bring healing to some brokenness within. I've seen where its strength lies - it is in the union between two people bonded by a common desire to feel one another. It is when two people engaging in the act with boundless consummation does sex transcends what most people see it is.

The Scorpion Week presented two elemental choices for me: One is to ignore the sanctity I place in the act after deliberately breaking it a few weeks back, and second is to stand my ground despite the absolute convenience some situations have presented to win my earthly bidding.

As the past entries revealed, it was very easy to get laid.

But I chose to remain celibate

Out of fear that the more I look for it, the more it ties me into its cycle.


The month ends the way it all started. The orchestra may have changed its repertoire but the symphony played the same familiar tune I have grown to listening over and over again. There was an undeniable moment of bliss when my arms were over Jay R's body. Every waking moment with him was a secret wish he could stay longer in my bed. Being bound by another attachment, I am destined to remain a footnote in his story.

He stopped texting after the third time he stayed over at my place. And as history have shown its consistency, no man will ever become my significant other if we have never had orgasm thrice.

To overcome his permanent absence, I had to exercise the drill in hopes that it would shake off some lingering attachment. The drill was highly effective but as I found out soon enough, it would never contain my longing. I would go on searching until it dawned to me a few days ago that another month has come to an end.

June begins uncertain of how things will take shape. Overcoming temptations with determination to succeed is one thing, but doing it for the purpose of not losing against your own wager doesn't assure of a good ending.


The monsoon rains have already flooded the streets leaving a few drunk men standing near the gutter to wait for the murky waters to disappear. The early morning air may have a stench of beer wafting under someone's nostrils but it remains frigid and desolate despite the crowd gathered outside the bars of Orosa.

They may all look tired and exhausted, but one can see in their glimmering eyes the promise of a return in the coming weeks.

There are those who will nod at the thought that our existence revolves around sex, heartaches and parties: That affections and attachments are fleeting and permanence is an idea we are bound to throw away depending on its usefulness to further our goals.

At times, I would like to believe in such reality after seeing so many frustrations and experiencing so many heartaches (including mine) in the past seven years of my presence.

But to do so will take away the very thing which still makes this kind of life worth living.


A new moon lifts some blank pages for new stories to write. Catching my breath before trudging the unforeseen road in front of me, I close my eyes for one last look at the events that shaped the final weeks of summer.

Uncertain are the days that lie ahead.

All I know is that things will get better.I just know it will.


At first glance, one would think that they were a father-daughter pair. Reading their body language however reveals that they are in fact, a couple. Imagine the smile on my face as I took their picture without their knowledge.

It only proves that some pairings are still possible; that it doesn't always have to be the cutesy kind of couples that has become the hype in our mass media.

[photo taken while on my way to the gym.]

Friday, May 29, 2009

Scorpion Week - The Quiapo Encounter

Sadyang patindi ng patindi ang hamon ni Bro.

Ngayong gabi, mga pasado alas-onse, nagtitingin ako ng DVD sa Hidalgo nang mapansin ko ang isang binatang aali-aligid sa paligid. Tangkad niya ay 5'8, nakasalamin ito, payat at mukhang may lahing mestiso. Hindi siya mapakali habang palakad-lakad at tila may inaantay na kausap. Kaagad ko siyang napansin sapagkat malakas rin naman ang appeal nito. Napansin niya siguro na tumingin ako kaya't tumingin rin ito sa akin.

At kami ay nagkatitigan ng lampas tatlong segundo. I know the rule kaya't ngumiti na lang ako sa hangin.

Nagpatuloy ako sa pagsulyap ng mga bagong labas na DVD. Sayang naman at baka may good copy ng Star Trek. Mainam na ang mamirata. Itong si binata na patuloy pa rin sa pag-ronda ay tumabi sa akin. Nagkakiskisan kami ng braso na siyang dahilan kaya ako muling napasulyap sa kanya. Nagkaroon ng pakiramdaman. Nagkangitian. Unahan na lang kung sino sa aming dalawa ang magpapakilala.

Tumawid ako ng kalsada upang lumayo sa tukso. Ang binata na nasa tapat ko ay biglang sumunod, nagpakilala.

"Hi, my name is David." May braces ito sa ngipin. Mukhang dayo sa Quiapo.

"Ei musta?" Bungad ko sa kanya habang nakikipagkamayan. Feeling yata magpaka-close.

"Okay lang ba sa iyo na gumimik tayo?" Nang huling beses na may nagtanong sa akin ng ganito, prostitute sa Quezon Avenue ang nag-aaya sa akin.

"Gimik? Di ko gets parekoy." Pinili ko ang magpaka-inosente. Puta, pinagpapawisan ng malapot ang kausap ko eh. Hindi ba obvious na libog na libog siya?

"Alam mo na. Trip trip tayo."

"Ok." Ngumiti ako. Siyempre, sino ba naman ang hindi ma-flaflatter. Palay na ang naghahabol sa manok.

"May place ka ba?"

"Meron diyan sa may TIP."

"Anong gusto mong gawin?"

"Top ka ba o bottom?" This time, siya na ang nagtanong. Ayokong maulit ang Black Balloon kagabi.

"Anything goes pare." Walang kagatol-gatol niyang sagot. Sa bokabolaryo ko, isa siyang hamak na bottom.


"Versa." The rule says, one drill is enough. Hindi ako powerbottom kagaya ng iba.

"Malaki ba yang iyo?"

"Ayos lang. See it for yourself."

"Tara punta tayong Jollibee." So gusto mo palang may go-see muna bago mo ako i-suck huh? Ganun ba yun?

"Pag malaki yang iyo. Papatira ako." Sabi na nga ba eh, bottom ka talaga.

"Huwag ka mag-alala. Malaki tong sa akin." Humirit ang loko. Ako naman ang biglang nabuhayan ng dugo lalo pa at pilit niyang pinipisil ang etits ko kahit sa kalsada.

Sa puntong iyon, malapit na niya akong mapapayag. Sabihan ba naman akong malaki ang burat niya eh, siyempre tao lang ako para hindi ma-curious. Sa isang banda, narealize ko na isang tug-of-war ang nangyari buong araw. Naroong nagpaparinig yung ka-chatmate na ginawan ko ng resume nung isang araw. Kailan daw ba niya masusubo yung sa akin. Since hindi naman ako pumasok ng trabaho upang damayan sana ang isang kaibigan na na-aksidente sa Batangas ay maaring dumiretso na lang ako sa apartment ni ka-chatmate upang pa-ulanan siya ng aking malapot na kondensada.

Subalit pinili ko pa rin ang dumayo ng Batangas at makiramay sa ka-tropa. Kahit ang saging ay may puso, sabi nga nila.

"Ano dude game ka ba? I'm just being straight here."

"Ah eh. Cool lang sa akin."

"Malaki ba yang sa iyo. Isang sagot lang naman eh."

Kahit kailan ay hindi ako nagduda sa pagkalalaki ko. Isa ito sa mga asset na alam kong kapuri-puri sa akin. Madali lang naman ang magmalaki. Ngunit kung ginawa ko yun, tapos kaagad ang usapan, may sex ako ngayong gabi. Sa isang banda, marami ang considerations na kailangan kong isipin. Naroon na may singaw ako sa labi. (kaya't hindi ako puwede mag-suck kahit gusto ko man) Si Throatie na medyo nag-iinarte this week ay kailangang agapan kung hindi ay sore-throat ang aking kauuwian. Higit sa lahat, naroon ako sa gitna ng labanan kung saan ang aking pakay ay huwag magpatihulog sa tawag ng laman.

Nagdesisyon ako. Ang quota ng kalibugan ay dapat sundin.

"Dude hanap ka na lang ng iba... I'm saving myself for someone else." Tangina ang emo!! Wala naman akong someone else pero yun talaga ang sinabi ko.

"Okay." Malamig niyang sagot sa akin.

Nakatingin sa malayo, mabilis akong naglakad patungo sa sakayan ng jeep. Nagtatanong kung ang mga imbitasyong natanggap ngayong araw ay pagsubok ba upang higit na pahirapan ang sarili.

O ang mga ito ay padala upang lubusang makilala ang tunay kong pagkatao.

This is not really my blog entry for tonight. But to acknowledge how I stood against my urges, the very close encounter deserves a part in the Scorpion Week saga. Two more nights and I will stand down whether utol returns home or not.

Tomorrow is gimik night.

Anything could still happen.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Scorpion Week - Black Balloon

Baby's black balloon makes her fly
I almost fell into that hole in your life
And you're not thinking about tomorrow
'Cause you were the same as me

[baray26] hi asl

[tigasin] 27 manila

[baray26] san ksa mla po

[tigasin] bacood

[tigasin] ikaw

[tigasin] asl mo?

[baray26] nagtahan po

[baray26] 26 m

[tigasin] ok

[tigasin] sup?

[baray26] mit up o

[baray26] stas

[tigasin] 5'9 moreno

[tigasin] mit up then wat?

[tigasin] stats mo?

[baray26] kaw

[baray26] sex
Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Or are you someone's prayer

[baray26] place ka?

[tigasin] wala eh

[baray26] oh ok

[tigasin] top ka ba o bottom?

[baray26] pics?

[tigasin] top ka ba o bottom?

[baray26] top versa

[baray26] kaw

[tigasin] ok...

[tigasin] top

[baray26] ok

[baray26] u suck?

[tigasin] yup

[tigasin] u kiss

[baray26] yeah

[tigasin] ok

[baray26] pics ka?

[tigasin] for trade


[baray26] u po

All because I'm
Comin' down the years turn over
And angels fall without you there
And I'll go and lead you home and
All because I'm
All because I'm
And I'll become
What you became to me

[tigasin] sensya na dude

[tigasin] not interested.


*end of conversation
*and no, I have not fallen yet to temptation.
*welcome to the reality, Galen

- Goo Goo Dolls, Black Balloon

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Scorpion Week - Change Style


I went to an internet cafe at sundown to chat in MIRc. My mom asked me to accompany her to a dinner so I had to wait until she arrives since I showed up way earlier than our set appointment. There was no immediate desire to set a hook-up for I don't keep reserves. Only when I am feeling the urge that I seek a prey and go hunting.

So what I did in the chatroom was to perform an experiment on how my new Picturetrail profile fared well against those sent to me by other chatters. The results were good. Finally, I am beginning to regain some new grounds I seceded after the "Drill" guy rejected me on our first encounter.

One of the guys who saw my profile claimed to have a seven-inch dick. That's what his chat handle said, as well as his Manjam account revealed. After sending him my face-picture, I thought I was a goner - doomed to move on and find another guy to trade pictures. Instead of getting the you're-not-my-type kind of reply, he accommodated my inquiries and began talking about himself.

As it turned out, the guy was looking for a job the whole summer. He was asked to wait for a call after several interviews and was on the verge of quitting his application to return to his hometown in Davao. Sympathizing with him, I told my new chatmate that rejection is part of the experience. I even shared my job hunting experience where three call centers denied my application in just one day.

The conversation went on until he convinced me to help him improve his chances of getting a job. There I was in my station, with my #salsalan MIRc window open, while my attention was on the resume he sent to my email. I copy-pasted every detail to my template so his resume would look more impressive than the one he gave me. That's what I did for one hour while all the advertisements for hook-ups, textmates, and other forms and invitations for a lusty encounter went by without me getting able to read everything.

"Ayan dude, sent ko na ulit sa iyo yung resume mo." For someone who wasn't able to finish his college degree, the resume that bears his name exceeds all expectations. It's layout and presentation (and the cover letter I wrote to one of the companies that posted a job ad in Pinoyexchange) will make any HR officer review his application for a reconsideration.

In return, I met my mother in Timog this evening having a new textmate to keep me distracted.


A chatter was looking for an SOP (Sex on the Phone) buddy the other night. Fearing that my solitary confinement might tempt me to invite someone who lives near my place, I grabbed his offer and did the act on the phone. Too synthetic isn't it? Our digital encounter didn't end there however, for we were able to talk about a lot of things after our shared orgasm.

He is 22 years old, lives in Binondo, an investment banker who gets to fly every month to Taipei for business trips, a chain smoker, a coffee addict and a Green Archer in his former life.

He was also a cadet officer back in high school.

For someone who is familiar with the rule, the details he shared should never be brought up, especially when your SOP buddy hails from cyberspace. I don't know if it was because of the photo-sharing we did before the act, but long after the phone lines has been cut, we still send text messages to one another before we get to sleep.

After two nights of constant contact, we had a round two a few hours ago.


Finally there's this guy who posted an advertisement in the main chatroom looking for someone who is open to serious relationships. I would have told him to buzz off for he was in a sex channel but instead of showing a rude behavior, I engaged him in a friendly chat. The guy was nice but you can sense his discrimination to those he found inferior to his standards. Feeling that humiliation is imminent if I sounded unsure about myself, I gave him details about me that might spark his interest.

"5,9, moreno, straight-acting, blah... blah... blah..." After several days of exposure in the chat scene, I already know the descriptions that make another guy so into you. In his situation I also echoed what he really wanted to hear from his chatmate.

"Open to serious relationships. Dude."

Immediately, he asked for us to continue our conversation in Yahoo Messanger. I do not know the reasons behind his sudden retreat from #salsalan, but it makes sense that he is worried that someone else might steal my attention. You know boys, stir their imagination for something more spectacular and they will instantly get drawn to you. There in Yahoo, we were able to get know each other better. Among the three guys I got acquainted since the Scorpion Week began, he is the one who truly caught my attention.

Fearing that we might get too close and too attached without seeing each other's looks. I showed him my face-pic so he would drop his expectations.

"Ayos ba tol?" I nervously asked him.

"Cool. Laki ng katawan ah!" Apparently, I am within his taste.

He sent his picture but I what I recieved was a blurry photo of him. Judging by the way he looks, my attraction is not really physical but more of the chemistry and values we might be sharing together.

I did hear his voice (which was very manly) on the phone, exchanged mobile numbers and learned more similarities which I would love for him to expound if we get to talk again. He needs to wake up early so we had to call it a night.


It is not my nature to entertain many prospects at any one time. Adhering to my monogamous principles, I let go of someone first before I move on and try again. Yet, in this cycle of never-ending search, (which in the end, brings me to doubt whether I will finally meet the "one") I feel that my methods push me farther away from my core .

Thus, I begin to suspect that the guys I had affairs in the past kept spare tires and inflated egos to keep in check their growing attachment. I, on the other hand steps my best foot forward while appearing desparate to win a person for I had nothing to run to in case things don't work.

This time, I change my style.

Emboldened by a new frame of mind (and blind illusions of eminent attraction) I will sway someone over to my side by appearing better than I could always be.

After all.

I have an imposing body to flaunt
A pair of strikingly small eyes to mesmerize
and a creative mind to boot.

Woe to them who will never see me. Their lost is not mine to begin with.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Ascension Journals (Act One)

"Sir Galen gud am this is Earvin of pm shift nde po ako makapasok ngaun sir regarding po sa pinaalam ko s inyo last friday about dun sa richmonde hotel. naka book napo kz kmi ng 1pm sayang po kz gift smin ng ninong ko. sir ok lng po b?"

- A text message.

It was the middle of summer and dad picked a better time to have a European tour with his business partner. The leisurely trip, which I dubbed the "Cannes Honeymoon" would last for two weeks. No one would take care of their interests while being out of the country and being my father's successor, I was considered for the position of becoming his replacement.

It was also the summer before my final year in the university. Having a vacation was a chance denied, for we have to finish our on the job training before the school year begins. Drunk with success after being assigned to be a lifestyle writer for Manila Times at the age of 19 , moving to a different playing field was for me a challenge. The new assignment required that I run an empire with different set of rules, principles and subordinates to get along with.

There was no time for lengthy preparations.

First two hours went smoothly. Two agents called sick, the assistant didn't come late like she did during the training and the flow of work went from a deluge yesterday to a mere trickle when the shift began earlier. The team leader showed up to observe how we ran the floor. It remains a question how he will assess our performance after our reliever duties end. Beneath the calm attitude that pervades my being, I am being bombarded with doubts from within. In transit with my new role, questions arise whether readiness is behind me or not.

I showed up in my dad's office on the eve of their departure. Strapped on my shoulders is a bulky blue bag packed with clothes and toiletries enough to last me a week. With me is my personal computer, whose disk drive I crammed with every mp3s and strategy games on my CD rack. I will be staying in during the entire stretch of my duty.

While my dad and his associate prepared for the trip , I busied myself setting camp inside their quarters. In between the unpacking of clothes, connecting the cables and wires to run my computer, and re-acquainting with the officers and managers who will work with me in the coming days, a briefing from the boss revealed the things I will have to pay attention during the 24-hour operation of the business.

"This is what you will do" my father explains while counting a stack of 100-dollar bills on his fingers "The first thing you have to check when you wake up is the returns report of the newspaper back-issues. The dealers bring them before getting their copies of the tabloid for next day's run. The accounting will also furnish a report of the sales and operations expense incurred the previous day."

"Okay..." I said, while my eyes remain fixed on the monitor screen. Windows 2000 is currently loading on my desktop.

"You have to collect these reports. It's your call how will you present them when we come back from our trip on the 20th."

"What else do I have to do dad?"


The briefing lasted less than thirty minutes for my dad wasn't really into details. His associate and I rarely spoke and over the course of that afternoon, she was overwhelmed with consultations with the editors on how the layout will appear on the newspaper in the coming issues. Suffice to say, my duties extend beyond the reaches of the Accounting Department - and touching grounds with the Editorial, Cashier and Circulation offices of our publishing business. Finally, dad assigned my most important job which, for someone barely legal of age, would never dare accept.

"I will lend you my space."

"You will be the ghost writer for my column."

"Great! Now I will shape the opinions of the masses. And they number over hundred of thousands..." Rolling my eyes, I return to installing some last-minute additional software on my computer.

And leaving the responsibilities I will have to carry out the moment they step foot outside their quarters the next day.

Hindi ko alam kung restless ako, o talaga lang uncomfortable ako sa bago kong upuan. Haaay. Gusto ko na umuwi at magkubli sa aking kwarto.

- Twitter Entry, 5:30 pm

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Scorpion Week - Prologue

While the cat is away, the mouse will play.

Ito ang isa sa mga dahilan kung bakit hindi ako maaring iwanang nagsosolo sa bahay. Bukod kasi sa madali akong mangulila, madalas ay gumagawa ako ng paraan makalimot lang sa aking pag-iisa. The last time it happened, nagpahabol ako sa libog buong magdamag. Kaso mo, mas mabilis ang sidhi ng damdamin kaya't inabutan ako nito bago magbukang-liwayway.

Tanda ko pa, alas-kuwatro yun ng madaling araw. Habang ka-chat si Centurion sa Meebo ay naka-online ako sa G4M gamit ang kanyang notty account. Wala naman talaga akong balak humanap ng booking, subalit nang may mabasa akong thread na naghahanap ng SEB malapit sa bahay, mabilis ko itong pinatulan na para bang atat na atat na kuneho.

Kinatagpo ko ang aking kausap malapit sa kanto. Ayos naman siya - 19 years old, moreno, pero sumasablay ang kilos kung pagbabasihan ang aking standards. Tahimik kaming pumasok sa loob ng kuwarto upang magkwentuhan sandali, pero the moment nakita niyang umigkas ang aking alaga, nagningning ang kanyang mga mata at hinimas ito habang ako naman ay huminga ng malalim bago laspagin ang kanyang bibig.

Malibog ang bata, palaban ito kung sa palaban. Nang utusan ko siyang upuan ako ay mabilis itong sumunod - masaktan man ito sa aking pagkabaon. Puros ungol ang namumutawi sa kanyang bibig sa tuwing napapalalim ang bayo ko. Nang huli, (dahil matagal akong labasan kapag ako ang top) gusto pa niyang magpatira ng bareback matapos lang ang aming sex.

Siyempre hindi ako pumayag.

Natulog akong may kayakap ng umagang iyon. Pasado alas-otso na nang kami ay bumangon ng kama. Pagkatapos niyang magbihis ay walang imik kaming lumabas ng bahay. Dahil walang tao noon ay hindi masyadong kumplikado ang aming paghihiwalay. Matapos ang ilang linggo ay muling nagtext ang bata. Gusto umulit ng second round. Di ako nagtext back dahil para sa akin ay one time lang ang lahat. Wala rin naman akong balak na magseryoso dahil nakareserba na sa iba ang puso ko.

Nagtext pa siya ng ilang beses sa loob ng maraming buwan. Sa mga pagkakataong iyon ay pinag-isipan ko rin kung gusto ko ulit siyang tikman o kalimutan na ng tuluyan. Subalit ganun yata talaga kapag nawalan ka na ng challenge. Gusto mo ng bago. Trip mo yung magbibigay thrill sa iyo.

So what is the relevance of this story sa mga mangyayari sa akin sa mga susunod na gabi?

Nagpaalam ang utol ko noong isang araw. Mawawala daw siya ng buong linggo. Madali naman niyang napapayag ang nanay namin dahil may kasama ito. "Raket" daw ang gagawin nila kanayunan.

At sa mga gabing wala siya ay bakante rin ang katabing kuwarto. Maari akong magimbita ng "kaibigan" na walang sinuman ang makakaalam.


Sa mga panahong mas gusto ko ang kayakap, kalambingan at kung papalarin ay kausap, ang pag-uuwi ng kung sinu sino ay malayo sa aking mga plano.

Hindi one night stand ang gusto kong mangyari.

Isang linggo.

Tingnan natin kung ano ang magiging kuwento.


Saturday, May 23, 2009

Tactical Ceasefire

One could call it an addiction.

The sound of bass pumping off speakers the size of a human torso, its pitch black case clinging on a nicotine-tarred wall; the glistening bubbles of alcohol floating on a half-empty bottle of beer, to spot the happy horse will tell you everything is no illusion; strangers grinding with their hips on the floor; their arms outstretched, allowing the house music spun put them in a state of ecstasy; hands over one's chest, squeezing, stroking, as two lonely souls merge on the ledge; and lasers mounted on the ceiling darting each and everyone as they sink into the night with reckless abandon.

These scenes, playing over and over my head draw me from the cocoon of sobriety. One night a week, to return to the dancing grounds is a freedom granted to me.

But tonight, the urge seem less intense than in the weeks that came before. Something must have triggered the retreat, yet the culprit eludes me. It must have been the absence of invitations from friends conjuring a drinking spree in Timog. The reason perhaps is the overall mood of gloominess casting a long dark shadow among my brethren.

On my way home earlier, I felt the shivers leaving a cold chill on my restless body. A part, desired to follow the trail leading to where the music is played. A part sought refuge in the still, somber corner of my room. I chose to cast a dice and let reason pervades my decision, to which are my contentions:

To shake off the rigidness of my order I imposed unto me the whole week.

To remind myself of a life beyond the toils and turbulence of home and work.

To open the possibilities


But with the drill still fresh in my head, to follow my addiction would lead to nothing. The act itself already satiates my reasons.

So I went home weary and defeated. The strangeness of giving up a night for reckless abandon is new to me. The sullen silence of lying on my bed, dreaming of things that could have been had I decided to go where the flashing lights and bouncing sounds are would remain a mystery until I resume my nocturnal habit.

And the memory of the drill will still haunt me like it did in the nights after it happened - sinking me into further depths of guilt and immense longings.

But this is my resolution. The week will end, probably, without having even a drop of beer quenching my thirst.

"The addiction could pass for some other time." Bitterly, I accepted the verdict.

"For now, let the sudden cold turkey shake me off from dependence to my weekend night delusions." After which, I shut the door tight and quietly coiled in my room.

Thursday, May 21, 2009


"Ring... the Final Frontier. These are the tournaments of the boxer Pacman. His mission: to defeat his rivals with a TKO; to seek out new life in the House of Congress; to boldly go where no boxer has gone before."

Assistant Team Leader

There was a time in recent memory when resignation at work most appealed to me. It was those downtrodden days. I was accused of committing a grave danger to the company because of a decision I made on my own. As a consequence, everyone seemed critical of my movements, even the newly appointed assistant team leader had turned against me.

Her cold, unreceptive response to my inquiries made me feel unwelcome. At times I felt bullied. Every wrong turn I made ticked her off, and it always lead to verbal assaults which I took with a heavy heart. At one time, I just broke down during a one-on-one meeting. Told her, I was demoralized, pushed over and the error I made seemed so breathtaking when other agents commit the same error I did. In that confrontation, I threatened her of my decision to leave, which, immediately put a break on the barrages I received from her that afternoon. After the lull, I have grown distant. I kept my resentments to myself even if there was a growing call to unseat her. The reason lies in her performance. Though she used to be the bitch I have grown to hate, her draconian methods not only impressed the bosses, it impressed me as well.

With good graces, my surrogate mother reminded me that the assistant team leader was pregnant; that perhaps I was the object of her focus that is why I was her favorite target. Understanding my new superior's situation, I absorbed her irritation like a tough guy would. Heated words were never exchanged between us but the coldness lingered, until I requested a transfer to another shift.

Months passed and the new work schedule appealed to me. Who wouldn't? I was far away from the ire of the dominatrix - not to mention I was also able to go home at sundown. But come early summer, this surrogate mother of mine told me of a news that didn't put a smile on my face.

I was asked to return to my old shift for an assignment deem appropriate of my time and experience with the job.

So the training began in earnest. It was my desire to keep everything under wraps but the swift transformation was picked up by nosy colleagues who were already speculating the changes. Weeks come and go and the more I was exposed to the limelight, the gravity of the responsibilities began to strangle me.

"This is a duty" I always tell myself.

"This is not a permanent placement." Assuredly, I nudge the reality.

And as the girth of her tummy expanded, my responsibilities went beyond the four walls of our workplace. Sometimes I found myself carrying her things on her way to the floor and at times, I just slide my butt in the front seat of her car so I could accompany her halfway while she drives all the way to Fairview.

A few weeks ago, a heavy downpour was felt across the city. Choosing not to bring her car, I found it was deem important to escort her until she reached Edsa where she rides a bus going home. Amidst the chilling weather and a soaked-up polo shirt, I felt more like a sole battleship protecting a convoy of refugee vessels. It doesn't matter if I receive the blows so long as those who needed my armor remain unscathed.

"Ms Rosie, hawak sa kamay ko, madulas ang daan." You could see in her eyes the anxiety as we trudged the flooded streets.

In return for all those joyrides, I've learned a lot of things only few people in our shift probably knows. As impression revealed, she was this school girl chick who used to transit from home to school. The word leisure never shows up in her vocabulary. She had many repressions, and she confided it to me while passing through the stretch of East Avenue. Behind her stiff, formal approach towards her subordinates is a free-spirit lady who simply wanted to feel the world: She would do long trips to cope up with stress; she had secret crushes with guys who looks more like a drugged rock star than a boy-next-door professional.

These things, she will never tell and I am so glad I've learned them all now that the reigns of power will be passed temporarily away from her.


The ascendancy was announced during our outing in Antipolo and everyone was informed of the new order at the floor.

She will never know the sacrifices I made nor the uncertainties I keep within. The assistant team leader will never find out how physically draining it was to take a long cut going home nor the troubles figuring out how will I be able to match up her meticulousness when it comes to work.

But for whatever its worth; as someone who will never be given the gift she will be receiving a few days from now. It is my sincerest wish that her daughter will be as beautiful and cunning like her. She could focus her attention to her offspring in the meantime, while I figure out how I would fare on the other battlefront she have already conquered at a time when I busied myself chasing butterflies.

Beginning tomorrow.

I take her place as the new assistant team leader.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

A Romantic Date

Dear Galen

A couple of weeks ago, I met this guy online. We traded yahoo messengers and I found out that he's interesting enough to sustain my attention. I was so comfortable talking to him that I gave my number so we could text when we find ourselves bored and with nothing to do. He would send messages every morning and I would reply late in the afternoon. A week after our first contact, he asked me to go out. He wanted to see this artsy bar in Cubao. The word "artsy," sparked my interest. And so I accompanied him. Suffice to say, he's attractive enough to trigger a hormonal reaction. Standing at 5'8, having a dark skin and lean body, I'd say he can easily disarm my defenses. He told me that he teaches in a private school in Manila. Astig nga eh. He's an English teacher there. He also used to write in a now defunct pop-culture magazine. Told me, lack of advertisement killed their project.

Over bottles of Red Horse Beer, I learned more about him - you know, the things he never expounded when we chat online. I mentioned that I watched Star Trek alone the other week and to his surprise, he watched the film the other day alone too. He was so worried no one would appreciate the film like he does, so he preferred to go solo rather than bore his company to death. I share his sentiment. We talked about many things, which, I don't share to many people I know. For one, my pastime at work aside from reading blogs (he's not a blogger btw) is to read articles in Wikipedia. The sheer pleasure of overloading your mind with information satiates my hidden geek personality. He's into fitness too and when I told him that I already reached my 115 lbs maximum lift in Military Press two nights ago, he vowed to catch up with me next week. Sweet.

We delved on many topics, including our sexual preference. I won't divulge to you his many fantasies, but his kinkiness turned me on. Bed-wise we are compatible. Thinking of his past exploits gave me a boner. Good thing, even if we've downed our sixth bottle, he never gave hints of wanting to sleep with me.

I'd like to think that he wasn't interested the way I do. That our attraction is but a one-way affair. But you know what, before we parted ways. He told me how he wished we could talk longer. It's getting late you see, and I promised my mom to be home before midnight. I went to the bathroom to take a leak and when I looked at the mirror to check my reddish face, I found him behind my back, wrapping his arms around my hips and smiling at me...

If only
Such fairy tales
come true.

A direct
reaction to the drill
I exercised last night.

The Drill

Kina career ko yung junjun dito na naka-green. Lol.

Panalo Pare! Take home ang labanan

- Text Message: Gym Buddy, Two Nights Ago.

At minsan naman, may Oh Yeah Moments kami. Masarap. Nakaka-adik.

- Mandaya Moore: Pugot

tropa-chatmate says:
sabi ko.. kalahating oras na lang ang nalalabi... puro ganito na lang tayo..
tropa-chatmate says:
biglang nag jakol...
tropa-chatmate says:
chupain ko daw siya..
tropa-chatmate says:
tapos.. suck ko daw nipples...
tropa-chatmate says:
ginanahan bigla..
tropa-chatmate says:
then... nung mapalit na siya.. suck nipples ko..

- A YM Conversation


By now you know how the exercise works.

First is you have to realize the urge: An event must weaken the cobblestone barrier holding back your pent up feelings of repression; the boundless lust, which you have pushed back beyond the reach of your senses should by now trampling over your consciousness; and the need to feel, someone deconstructing your being from inside out would have lead you to openly convey your carnal desires. The urges come once in a blue moon and when the ripe time arrives, the pruning begins by logging on to your favorite channel in MIRc to park your name amongst the faceless animals searching for one clear method of releasing their natural callings.

"Saan ka parekoy?"

"Asl, Stats"

"Pic please"

You, being a first-born chatter would cling to your old ways. Back then, it was honorable to negotiate the terms without revealing the contours of your face or the steely articulation of your gaze. Your associates would understand your inhibitions for they would do the same. But now, the new order rules out any deal without the "trade-off." No matter how you attempt to draw circles to sway a bargain on your behalf, market forces would push you at the edge of competition.

"Sorry bro no pic here"


"Describe yourself na lang?"

"Muscular, chinito, manly"

"If you want, let's meet and if you don't find me appealing, let's call off the eyeball."

"Ayt. Here's my number"

In most cases it works, but when the method backfires, you are left licking the sore wounds of rejection. How many times do I tell you it happens - even to the most gifted of your peers? No. You insists that its better not to enter a battle than to lose it without putting up a fight.

In this scene however, the chances of victory seems high.

And therefore you set yourself on a journey - a pilgrimage towards the enemy territory.

Without having an identity to back you up, the expedition ends in a one-way confrontation. It happened many times before and the scars they left makes you very wary of these arrangements. The past defeats has made you numb enough to pick up the pieces and move on. This is the reason why you prefer the comforts of the dance floor. There, you get the prey as swift as you spot them. Without the expectations raised by an unseen first encounters, the prospects of intimate endings are more plausible on a face to face negotiations.

"I saw you na. Ayoko."

"Ok. Thanks."

"You can suck me, but you have to pay."

"Not in a million years pare."

Just like the other battles you fought, you go home empty handed. The rejection might have scraped off your confidence, but at the back of your head, you are relieved to learn where your place is. The retreat sums up all the claims your friend is spreading around these days,

"Titi lang yan." The more you loses, the more you embrace what his growing philosophy is all about.

A few minutes after the outcome has been delivered, you absorb whatever pain the person has inflicted. You return to the internet cafe ready to seek a new prey.

"Anyone here in mandaluyong. T_P here with place. Mack me with ur pic."

Sometimes it makes you wonder why take such painful cycles when you know where your strength lies. Back there in the open, it was them who negotiates the deal with you. An exchange of glances; a reserved smile conveying thoughts of attraction; a discreet brushing off the fingers and you know who the prey is. Is it because of your thirst for victory? Is it because of your overwhelming need to prove everyone wrong:

That you can take down a better-looking boy despite what the "equality of looks" principle decrees?

Following the same, obsolete method once again, you hope that someone would see things your way; that what keeps an eye ball interesting is the mystery behind the person you would share a moment of wild abandon.

"Dito ako sa mandaluyong bro." You sent your private message to someone you secretly wish to get back with.

"Saan, here's my pic. Gabi na. Nagmamadali na ako eh." The much anticipated encounter earlier had made him a little desperate with his hunting.

"Thanks! Ako kaya yung ni-reject mo kanina!"

"Ha ikaw ba?"

"Oo kaya! Sigurado bang ako ang nakita mo?"

"Ikaw yung naka-shorts at naka t-shirt right"

"Ah, iba yung nakita mo. Hindi ako yun."

"Gusto mo pa ba? Dali bro, libog na libog na ako." Seeing his brusque face, toned body and striking masculine appeal, you know he's worth the challenge.

"Tangina, paano kapag ni-reject mo ulit ako?"

"Bahala na. Ano tuloy ka pa ba? Gabi na masyado."

Bowing to your own needs - the months-long repression you have imposed upon yourself, already outweighs your decisions. And so you attempt a comeback. Win or lose, the evasion itself is a victory to be proud of.

Fifteen minutes later.

"Putangina mo pare, ang init mo!"

"Kanina pa ako libog eh, ayos ba?"

"Ayos na ayos, parang ayaw ko na hugutin to." Panting, he would ram his thick prick again and again and again.

Mercy fuck or not, the drill would hurl you beyond the urges of the flesh and far enough to achieve emancipation from recent attachments.

Sunday, May 17, 2009


"What I learned living this life I have now is to move on as fast as I could and never let the feelings of being abandoned or the lingering effects of longing catch up with me."

An advice parted to an ex-girlfriend this afternoon after she confided her present romantic issues to me. Surreal as it may seems, but now that I'm out to her, our relationship achieved a certain level of openness unmatched during the time we were a celebrity couple.

Must admit, the only time I really did feel secure in a relationship was with her and the closer and more open we get, the more I acknowledge the highs of our now unbroken past.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

The Playground

I can still recall the quiet afternoons with much vividness like a familiar echo bouncing off my ear.

It begins with a visit to the pediatrician for a check-up. The pediatrician, as I remember, is a youthful lady who holds a clinic on the fourth floor of the Manila Doctors Hospital. First impressions tell that she is a very sympathetic doctor. However, one must keep an eye on her for the moment she grins and shows off her canines, an injection must be forthcoming.

Across the street is the Tourism Building where a bubbly aunt works but we never gets to visit whenever we find ourselves in the area. The reasons are rather trivial, but as far as I know, nobody wants to take a time-off from work on a weekday afternoon just to have a chat with a relative you would most likely see on a weekend family reunion.

Finally, behind the Tourism Building is the Luneta Park, which used to be the crown jewel of the city before Robinson's Ermita was expanded. In those days, it was the ordinary folks who take a stroll there to have a break from the toils of living. The last time I checked the park out, it was the Balikbayans who were paying the park a visit along with their families.

With the clinic just a cartwheel away from Luneta, it was easy to persuade my mother to wander around the park. After all, it was necessary to shake off the feeling of being violated after a big needle had pricked your skin. Knowing what is best to drive away the trauma after a steely intrusion, she would bring me to one of the best kept secrets of the park, which kids of my time would outrightly declare the next best thing after Manila Zoo.

Hidden beneath the thick foliage at the elbow of T.M. Kalaw and Rizal Avenue, the playground with no name is a sensation for kids untainted yet by the material wonders of the mall. It precedes the space-age amusement parks found in the plains of Santa Rosa and the grounds of CCP; the toy kingdoms whose land area and deluge of squeaking, scampering tykes rival those of a department store; and the token-guzzling video game arcades inhabited by teenagers who claim to be "refugees" and "exiles" from a nearby, "war ravaged" school.

Going back, mother and I would limp our way from Manila Doctors to the playground. There was no need to play Patintero crossing Kalaw for seldom do cars pass in that four-laned boulevard. Besides, the moment they see my mom's aluminum crutches, the glint from the sun reflecting on its metallic skin would immediately make them step on the breaks.

Like it was already a reflex action.

The entrance to the playground is located on a narrow road beside the Tourism Building. I remember the sight of the five goldfish made of stone behind the chicken wire fence, whose wide mouth forms a long tunnel would compel me to run towards the main gate leaving my mother shouting from a distance.

"Anaaaaaakkkk huwag ka tumakbo at baka madapa ka!!"

Entering the playground, one would immediately notice the pastel colored slides whose arching tongues occupied by kids racing against one another to be the first to reach the bottom. This is where I would spend countless hours warming my butt as I slide down until my tiny feet land on the ground only to climb the stairs and slide again.

Next to the slides are the see-saws and swings whose back and forth pendulum motion attract the adults who are supposed to be looking after their kids. Perhaps, it must be the sheer pull of gravity and the breathlessness of being in mid-air that reminds them of a long-lost childhood being relived in that moment of pure bliss. The grounds where these implements are found is encircled by picnic tables. There are no food stalls inside the playground so packed sandwiches and juices contained in tetra packs are the sources of nourishment for the tireless children.

The playground boasts other attractions including a life-size diorama of life during prehistoric times. There, one could mount a stone replica of a Stegosaurus whose striking appeal makes it a favorite spot for a Kodak moment. There is also an oversized Hippopotamus not far from the diorama, whose gaping mouth can sit ten children for a souvenir picture.

Days, months and years come and time passes without us ever noticing how we have outgrown the simple joys of running around a playground, until one fine day; one random look at one's childhood photo album and the memories come to life again, reminding, how long it has been.

"It's been more than twenty years ma since last tayong nandito"

Shrugging off the sinking feeling of nostalgia, I pushed my mom's wheelchair in front of the pastel-colored slide still occupied by children who could already be my own. The scores of goldfish, whose mouth forms a long tunnel could not swallow my big frame anymore. The Stegosaurus and the oversized Hippo, who's classic spots for taking children's photos still appeal to the camera phone and digicam owners of this generation. It seems nothing has changed inside the playground,

Except that time has already aged me and my mom.

It was nearly sundown and we still have to cover the entire stretch of Luneta before ending our tour at the Ocean Park on the other end of the park. Despite being short on cash, this was my belated mother's day treat to her. As we passed by a young mother clutching her toddler in her arms while resting on one of the benches, I brought my mom's wheelchair to a halt. Approaching the lady, I sought a very big favor.

"Excuse me po, puwede kayang kunan ko kayo ng picture ng anak niyo?"

"Para saan?" She asked warily.

"Ummm, para sa amin ng mom ko."

"Mga kasing edad po ako ng baby niyo nang una niya akong pinasyal rito."

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Eye On The Tiger (Episode Six)

Yes, the cat is still around.
Chasing the mice that would never show up.
No matter how many traps the feline puts up.

El Tigre

ang panget ng fam town


ano yang fam town na yan
kakainggit talaga ng back mo

El Tigre



pwede pa touch?

El Tigre

ano ba nilalaro mo ngayun
patouch talga


pa poke na lang!

El Tigre

ako nga nagagandahan din e



El Tigre



wala akong nilalaro
alam ko na
masahihin ko na lang
libre masa na

El Tigre

baliw ka
baliw kaba
crush ko din back ko e



El Tigre

lalo na pag avatar ganda


ligawan natin back mo

El Tigre



astig talaga. keep it up idol

El Tigre

baliw ka

El Tigre

lilipat n ako sa eclipse (gym) para ma elibs ka lalo
pa trade naman ng ingredietns (restaurant city)
i approve mo na alng tutal di ka naman nag lalaro


lipat ka sa amin
12k lang isang taon

El Tigre

khit anung oras ba yun
approve mo naman request ko sa trade


sige approve ko na trade mo
nakawin ko avatar mo ah!

El Tigre

nakawin mo meron pa akong ganyan e
hahahah san mo ilalagay pasaaway ka


sa PEX
papalitan ko avatar ko!

El Tigre

palitan mo


yung trade mo

El Tigre

sino tinakot mo
maganda naman tong rest city
di nga lang nauutusan
taga linis nga kita e


korny yan
mag mafia ka na lang!

El Tigre

wala na mana malaro e
so pwede na



El Tigre

ayoko nun puro commands e


hanapin ko pa yung trade mo


yung rock legends pinaka ok para saken


my farm yung request mo eh!

El Tigre

sa trade ng ingredients mag log ka sa rest city
para makita mo



El Tigre



shit men
cook pala kita!


The conversation ends with me accepting his trade for ingredients.
and stealing his back-pic for this blog entry.

Johnny Walker

Walking is a pastime that keeps my eyes open to the world.

The habit formed long before I learned to ride a jeep on my own. My feet were like water quenching my thirst to explore. Growing up in a neighborhood crisscrossed by narrow streets called alleyways, one has to find out what alley exits to the main road. Otherwise, you would get lost in the dizzying maze of pathways that sometimes lead to a dead end.

In school, familiarity over my surroundings prodded me to explore my campus. Places unknown to most pupils were my secret hideaways. I knew where the school dump site was; the two-story, lemon-green colored structure which housed the nun's quarters; the college building that was off-limits to grade school students (but still I was able to go into by pretending to be some faculty's kid); and the upper floors of the aging school auditorium which turned out to be a dormitory for less fortunate male high school and college students.

No one dared to follow my footsteps for when I had finally explored every nook and cranny of the campus, I set my eyes outside the walls and toward the waiting hinterlands and posh neighborhoods around my school.

To explore these uncharted lands, one has to walk small steps and vast distances to get from one place and back without appearing too unfamiliar with the terrain. In these daring expeditions, I saw many things: The neighborhood beyond the posh houses at the back of my school were settled by families living on the edge of a creek. The kids playing near the banks were grimy; their tattered clothes were on the brink of falling apart. Most adults I saw spent the afternoons crouched next to their car-sized hovels while staring blankly at people passing in front of them.

I saw other sights which were more pleasant to the senses, but they left no striking impressions unlike those I've seen near the creek. As I grew older, the walking continued. The bolder my steps become, the more depressing places I have learned to appreciate.

Nowadays, walking not only keeps my eyes open to learning new shortcuts; it also keeps me away from boredom. Walking is a form of exercise that gives me this twisted illusion of being fit; while sparing me a few coins that I would have used when riding a jeep or tricycle to reach my destination. Most important of all, walking allows me to learn new things while reminding me of my insignificance.

It encourages me to embrace a life of searching and sets the mood to pause and think of ideas that may change the world for the better.

Such as joining a global event to end hunger.


On June 7, the Philippines will once again put its collective feet and join with the rest of the world in a walk to feed every starving children on the planet. Hosted by the UN World Food Programme, the End Hunger: Walk the World campaign aims to raise enough funds to support the thousands of hungry kids in Mindanao.

Walk begins at 6 am at the Rajah Sulayman Park in Roxas Boulevard.

And though it maybe staggering to contemplate on how such activity would feed so many children in one year, remembering the countless long distances I have covered while walking, and seeing how much human suffering has been overlooked around me, the walk seems a worthwhile use of one's resources on a sunshiny weekend morning.

"Street Urchins"
UP Diliman, 2007

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

News From The Frontlines

In hopes that some other bloggers would hear his plea and spread the news far beyond.

It was like an atomic bomb has been dropped in my little town. As the bus passed along villages, one cannot waver at the communal feeling of sorrow and sadness because of homes destroyed and lives lost as typhoon “Emong” (codename: Chan Hom) wreaked havoc Thursday evening, May 7th in Western Pangasinan. Our house in Bani was not spared from the ravaging storm packing winds of 150 kph with gustiness of 185 kph uprooting electric posts and trees, toppling off cars and trucks, displacing thousands of families from their homes.

I have never seen first-hand such a tragedy and stark irresponsibility in my whole life. It is in these times that you ask immediate relief and aid from the government and you get nothing in response but the same voice that you heard while you say those words. News came Friday that relief operations were on the way to affected towns and communities but as to when will those promised help filter in to the helpless families who have no roofs under their heads while torrential rain continues is still a million dollar question (not so during election time of course). Only in the Philippines. Families are left on their own to fix their homes while they put makeshift shelters near the road. Local government officials sit down and talk about how they would deal with loots brought in by the automatic release of calamity funds. Our incarcerated community leader has been filling in news from his cell that families will receive aid equally whether rich or poor and it made the poor people cry foul necessarily but what do you expect from a mad man who has no sense of justice at all. So that compounds the gravity of the problem: bad leaders plus ravaging storms plus poor communities equal: catastrophe.

So here I am, appealing to you all who will have the chance to read this to help in spreading the news that our communities need help in order for families in this part of the country rebuild their lives which were gravely disrupted and shattered by the recent calamity and the irresponsibility of the government. What they show and feature in the news is a minute reflection of the overall disaster here in Pangasinan. Government officials are always quoted in the news commenting on the damage to the fisheries owned by a few affluent businessmen but where are the countless people left homeless and what about the efforts to help them? We have yet to see and get help.

Thirty Thousand Fishes

Monday, May 11, 2009

The Great Escape (Last Part)

The rain fell in torrents as I sneaked outside the house with a small orange umbrella and an olive green jacket to protect me from the elements. On the main road, no jeepneys were in sight; the cold damp air had seeped through my skin, leaving me shaking while waiting for a cab to hail; and as the rain swept curb had flushed away all the dust and grime that accumulated along its edges during that sunny afternoon, my head was clouded with questions as to why I had to search for you in RCBC Plaza and show up like I am your worried boyfriend.

Was it for showing up in Malate after I had told you I was drunk?

Was it because I wanted to make sure you'll be in my bed when daybreak comes?

Or was it simply because I longed to see you no matter what the outcome of my daring escape would be?

And like the downpour heading towards the gutter, the answers remain as swift as the currents going down the drain.

I got out of the taxi a few steps away from the People Support Building. I feared that your party had left shortly before my arrival. Ignoring my growing pessimist thoughts, (as you were not replying to my text messages) I searched for the nearest coffee shop in the area. There, in front of the call center headquarters was a Starbucks packed with yuppies like you.

It took me less than a minute to spot you. After all, your friends had chosen the outermost table to sit yourselves in. Your chair was at a corner and as I passed by your table, our eyes met once again. I put up my stiffest facial expression and pretended not to see you glancing towards my direction.

The great escape had worked.

If not for the text message earlier that drizzly morning telling me that you were drunk; and if not for your suggestion of sleeping over in my place so we could catch up with the things we missed, I would never show up soaked with rainwater and with just a hundred pesos in my pocket.

Mustering all my guts to find some old connections, I lingered inside the reception area of People Support while waiting for your recognition. You see, I have a friend working in that company and since we haven't spoken to each other after our Christmas Party last year, I thought of paying him a visit just to keep my thoughts away from you.

And so I let the time pass by while waiting for my friend to show up at the door; and waiting for you to send a reply to my text messages.

Nothing came to see me; not even a silhouette or a shadow of your presence.

Leaving the reception area, I returned to Starbucks to check if you were still with your friends. And just when I was about to come near the coffee shop, I saw your group packing your belongings and walking away from your table.

"It must be closing time," I told myself.

Worried that I might lose sight of your presence, I followed your direction while your friends who were ahead began to walk their separate ways. I tried to get within an earshot's distance just to tell you I was there. You did acknowledge my presence by slowing down your pace and raising your hand to tell me to wait. Your eyes showed confusion. My presence might have screwed up your plans.


You told me over our text exchanges to wait, for you will have to escort a colleague going home. I would have followed your orders but the elements began to challenge my patience. It started raining and knowing you were against the forces of nature when you set your foot in Manila, a timely intervention would spare you from an embarrassment. At the back of my head, I would score big too, knowing I was already present even before you had thought of my assistance.

I stayed across the street while you and your girl colleague waited for a ride going home. Clutching my arms around my waist, the cold air and the piercing solitude began to assault my endurance. You weren't replying to my messages and as I learned later on, your phone turned out to be unattended. Was it because you intentionally shut if off, or your battery got emptied? I do not know.

Accepting defeat, I crossed the wide boulevard to trade glances with you for the last time. You weren't looking. Walking towards the darker portions of the avenue, I still waited - just until I saw you fade away from your spot.

But you weren't moving.

On the brink of hailing the first cab that pass my direction, I heard someone throwing up.

My first thought was you.

Mabilis akong lumakad patungo sa inyong kinatatayuan upang tingnan kung sino ang nagsusuka. Natagpuan ko roon ang kasama mong babae na nakatingin sa malayo. Ikaw naman ay nawawala sa eksena. Pasimple akong pumunta sa direksyon kung saan nakapinid ang mata ng iyong kasama habang ikaw naman ay gegewang-gewang na naglalakad papalapit sa akin.

Sa unang pagkakataon ay muli tayong nagkausap.

"Nagpunta ako rito upang iabot sa iyo itong payong." Paliwanag ko sa iyo. "Malakas kasi ang ulan sa Maynila..." Ngumiti ka lamang at sinabing ako ay mag-intay. Isasakay mo lang ng bus ang iyong katrabaho.

Sampung minuto ang nakalipas, dumaan ang bus na inyong inaabangan. Sinakay mo ang babae at matapos na umandar papalayo ang sasakyan, ikaw ay tumalikod at dahan-dahang nagtungo sa akin.

Hindi ko na pinakinggan ang iyong mga paliwanag. Sapat na ang malaman na akin ka na.

Nangasul ang kalangitan nang umagang iyon na ang mga braso ko ay nakapulupot sa iyong nag-iinit na katawan.

Sa ikatlong pagkakataon Epitome Boy, muli tayong nag isang dibdib sa aking kama.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Remembering The Shores Of Lucid Bay

March 10, 2009
5:23 AM

Got out of bed and dragged my legs to my mother's quarters. The last time I remembered before falling asleep was that the door was locked and she was taking an early-morning warm bath in her small, rose-tiled bathroom. Mom was already sprawled comfortably on the bed and waiting to fall asleep when I went in to check her out.

Mom: Nakatulog ka na?

Me: Huh?

Mom: Nakatulog ka na sa lagay na yan.

Me: Ah oo, nakatulog na. Ikaw?

Mom: Hindi pa, simula nung nagising ako kanina (I presume she had three hours of sleep after arriving home last night.)

Me: Tulog ka na mama. Gym na ako.

Mom: Maaga pa ah...

Me: Ayos yun, para mamaya maaga rin ako makakauwi. Ready lang ako.

I left her room to go down to the kitchen. Hunger was assaulting my tummy and I just remembered the maid saying the night before that there's a half-slice carrot bread inside the fridge. As I was about to step my foot on the first flight of stairs, a tiny voice stalled my legs. The sound was a mere whimper but I knew where it was coming from.

I headed back to the master's bedroom.

Me: Bakit mo ako tinawag?

There was a long pause after my question.

Mom: Mag-gygym ka na talaga?

Me: Sana... bakit?

Mom: Maiiwan na ako mag-isa niyan.

There and then I understood what my mom meant. It's been a lonely, sleepless night with only me and her inside the house. Utol was elsewhere busying herself with activities that any practical person would frown. Approaching mom. I tucked her inside the blanket, planted a kiss on her cheek and left the room to go downstairs.

My carrot bread was waiting.

Mom's words will always ring a tune to my heart. I will do my steel-bar lifting after my shift is over.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

The Great Escape (First Part)

"Kuya I'm a bit drunk..."

Your text message urged me to dial your number and hear your voice. The somber delivery of your words fed me with doubts. You assured me that you can manage and get home by yourself. I doubted your sincerity. As a warrant that you were doing fine, you even thought of staying in my place after your coffee stop was over.

I told you that I would wait.

The last time I saw your familiar face, you surprised me by showing up in Nakpil after telling you that I was drunk, alone and waiting for friends to arrive in Malate. I was so moved by your sweetness that I paid for your entry at BED to tour you around myself.

After that fateful morning, I felt you drifting away My suspicions arose from the sights and sounds you saw. You were overwhelmed by the experience. There were other reasons running inside my head but I never recognized your sudden changes. When I ran out of reasons for your icy departure, I resigned to your nature of putting distance between you and a fling.

After all, you are taken.

There were times I thought of cutting ties with you. I am, after all, a danger to your twisted relationship. But it was you who clung to me by casually making your presence felt. I was on the verge of leaving, but your timely apology had put a break on my plans of secession. A bond already exists between us and I don't have the heart to turn my back on our strange beginnings. Our talks resumed with intermittent text messages coming from you. If you only knew how frustrating it was for you to check me out and then leave me hanging after getting my reply.

It was like your messages weren't meant for me.

While waiting for your words of confirmation, pearl-sized raindrops began to drop like water bombs on the rooftop. I knew the chances of you staying over lessened as the downpour intensified. Wasting no time accepting defeat, I found myself putting on my walking shorts and windbreaker jacket. Pulling a two hundred peso bill from the money box, I abandoned my room leaving the fan on and switching the lights off. Passing by the masters bedroom, I took a peek at the slightly opened door to see what my mom was doing. She was still up, seated on her bed and singing hymns aired on the Catholic Cable Channel.

Certain that a daring escape was required for you to stay over, I tiptoed myself down the stairs and towards the waiting door.

While praying that I would never get caught sneaking out at 3 in the morning.


Eon Flux

By human standards, it could not possible have been artificial: It was the size of a world. But it was so oddly and intricately shaped, so clearly intended for some complex purpose that it could only have been the expression of an idea. Gliding in some polar orbit above the great blue white star, it resembled some immense, imperfect polyhedron, encrusted with millions of bowl-shaped barnacles. Every bowl was aimed at a particular part of the sky. Every constellation was being attended to. The polyhedral world had been performing its enigmatic function for eons. It was very patient. It could afford to wait forever.

- Carl Sagan, Contact

The timeless days came to a screeching halt. Today, I spent my off with my eyes glued in front of the computer screen. Keeping a promise of a mother's day date to my mom, I ignored the urge to leave the house and just stay in my room to play Civilization IV all day. Resting a few precious moments after raising a white flag to boredom, my eyes shut off while watching the blue sky turn black outside the window.

I woke up in my bed a few hours later and looking at my phone, the digits tell that it was already past nine. A few messages in my inbox were up for reading but nothing confirmed my dinner date this evening. Perhaps mom was still in her boardroom meeting. An unexpected call for a night out was relayed by friends but I declined their invitation. I could not afford to go out and leave my mother alone in the house.


A few years back, one would find me performing my rites of reckless abandon in Malate. At this ungodly hour of the night, I moved my hips, kissed some boys, and went home to sleep in some other bed with a promise of fulfillment the coming morning. But tonight, here I am keeping my tabs of the things I have achieved today:

Cheating AI players in a game of conquest.
A five round orgasm in front of the computer recalling the best impalement I had.
And seeing people in my sleep who have long been dead.

Not bad to spend a long-deserved break.

But for some reasons, why do I keep this lingering feeling of achieving nothing when I did things to keep me distracted?

Thursday, May 7, 2009


Because horny times require some comic distraction.

Guys4Men profile circa 2006

Name: Dominador Labatete III

Nickname: Boy Angis, Alyas Baho, Totoy Kendeng, Boyong Kulangot, Mandong Supot

Hobbies: Magchat sa Bai Manila at Magbook-mark ng mga cute na lalaki sa G4M (Internet). Magbahay-bahayan Mag Isa (Homebuddy), Kumain Ng Bakal (Gym), Maglakad sa Kalye Dahil Walang Pamasahe sa Jip (Strolling), Kapamilya Ever (Watching Discovery Channel, Animax, CNN and National Geographic), Nakikipagsuntukan Sa Kama (Sex), Pumunta Sa Beerhouse (Clubbing/Bar Hopping/Drinking with Buddies), Mag-Ocho-Ocho sa mga Peryahan (Dancing), Makinig sa Aegis at Salbakuta (Soundtripping)

School: University of Recto, Old Bilibid School For Patapon Boys

Course: Automotive Criminology, Masters In Manggagantso Arts and Sciences

Nationality: Tswana

Hometown: Gaborone, Botswana

Body: Okie lang

Complexion: Morino

Height: Payb Nayn.

Most Notable Body Asset: My "Horsie".

Colors: Puschia-Fenk

Favorite Childhood Character: Boyoyong The Clown

Favorite Music: Aegis - Basang Basa Sa Ulan (Techno Remix); Willie Revillame - Boom Tarat Tarat (Cafe Del Mar Version)

Food: Binurong Tulingan at Talbos ng Gabi with matching Worstershire Sauce, Purefoods Tender Juicy 12-Inch Cheesedog, Piniritong Itlog ng Kabayo

Dessert: Halo Halo sa Tindahan ni Aleng Bebang, Kulangot Pudding

Drinks: Tubig sa MWSS, Yakult Ni Totoy Mola

Fashion Style: Pekpek Shorts, Ukay-Ukay House Of Fashion Unlimited

Accessories: Steel Bulitas,

Car: Malaguena Classic 14-Seater (Engine Tuning by Autech)

Perfumes: Clinique Happy na nabili ko sa Quiapo

Cell phones: Nokia 5110

Networks: TM Power To The Piso

Favorite Expression: Fuckingina, Suntukan Tayo, Itali Kita Sa Kama Ko Eh, Pwede Ba Kita Maging Toy?

Weakness: White Sando

Goals In Life: To get pregnant someday

Most Missed Memory: Nung blinoblowjob ako ni Tekla, ang aking ever sweet na yaya.

Fears In Life: Maging super gwapo

The icy air blowing from outside the window; the intermittent tapping of raindrops on corrugated rooftops; the somber mood born out of staying late in a dimmed bedroom whose noise is but an ear-splitting silence, arouses a person to seek a fellow companion.

In times of solitude, no man seeks to be an island.

And so I installed the peer-to-peer chat program MIRc tonight; tapped the flesh market abounding in the channels; bid for a soul I could share my bed with and hope that my physical assets would entice a fellow trader to merge his stocks with my conglomerate .

Two sexual invitations were extended. Both, were just stone throw away from home. Despite their profitable ventures, I chose the least troubled path available.

No ordinary human will achieve orgasm through symphonies of moaning, melodies of cussing, and verbal tirades of kinky words while stimulating the senses to believe the imagination.

The staleness of such method leaves a metallic stain which corrupts the organic functions of the body.

But I made it work to supplant my natural needs.

For what reason,

I don't know.

Maybe, after orgasm has been achieved, I am aware that having a stranger lying next to me doesn't assure of a real affection.

Everything is driven by supply and demand, whose market resumes again when another trading session opens.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Totoy Batak Chronicles One

Minsan ay tinatanong ko sa sarili ang silbi ng pagbubuhat gayong wala naman talaga akong nakukuha dito. Hindi naman ako malusog. Katunayan ay madali pa nga akong panghinaan ng katawan lalo't sunod-sunod ang session ko sa gym. Hindi rin naman ako agaw pansin sa ibang binatilyo, tingin ko nga ay lalo pang bumagsak ang market ko. At kahit anung pursigi ko maging matipuno, sa huli ay insecure pa rin ako sa sarili.

Tila walang katapusan ang reklamo ko pagdating sa pagpapaganda ng katawan.

Subalit gaano man kasakit sa balakang at sa bulsa ang maintenance, patuloy pa rin ang pagbubuhat ko ng bakal. Ito ba ay dahil bahagi na ito ng aking sistema, o baka naman ay sadyang takot lang akong mabansagang bilugan at mataba gaya ng tingin sa akin ng mga tao noon?

Mahigit dalawang taon na rin ang aking routine. Sa tuwing matatapos ang shift (at kung minsan naman ay bago pumasok sa trabaho) ay sa gym ang diretso ko. Doon ay ilalapag ko ang backpack sa locker room, magtatanggal ng damit pampasok at saka isusuot ang sando at jerseys na hindi na nawawala sa loob ng bag ko. Matapos ang dagliang paggayak ay haharap ako sa salamin upang pagmasdan ang aking katawan.

Upang paulit-ulit na paalalahan ang sarili sa kung ano ang maaring mawala sa oras na ako ay tumigil ng pagbubuhat.

Malayo na rin ang aking narating. Kung dati rati ay isang malaking kahangalan lang ang mag-ilusyon ng umbok sa dibdib at firm na mga biceps, ngayon ay abot kamay na ang aking mga pinangarap. Minsan ay pati ako ay nababakla sa aking nakikita at sa mga pagkakataong umaandar ang aking pagiging narsiso, ngingisi na lamang ako't ibubulong sa sarili

Na sana'y kabiyak ko na lang ang lalaki sa salamin.

Ano na nga ba ang resulta ng aking pagbubuhat?

Bukod sa dumoble ang aking lakas, higit na lumitaw ang aking pagiging gentleman kahit alam pa ng lahat na ako'y hindi straight. Wala ring straight ang nangahas maghamon sa akin sa pangambang isang kamao ko lang ang magpapatumba sa kanila.

Samakatuwid ay nakakuha ako ng respeto sa mga tao anuman ang sexual orientation ko.

At kung may mabuting naidudulot ang pagiging hunk, naroon rin ang napakaraming disadvantage kapag alam ng mga tao na ikaw ay nagbubuhat.

Expected nila sayo ang pagiging makisig sa lahat ng pagkakataon maging ito man ay sa pagbubuhat ng water jug na iyong isho-shoot sa dispenser o kaya naman ay sa pagsisiguro na ang isang katrabahong babae ay safe na makakauwi sa kanilang bahay.

Ikaw ang Alpha Male ng sanlibutan. Nasa iyo ang pagiging maangas, manipulado at madiskarte sa mga bagay na hindi nila aasahan sa isang lampayatot na kasama mo. Dahil sa mga expectations na dinikta ng mga taong nakapaligid sa iyo, nagiging kasagwa-sagwa ang makita kang naduduwag, natataranta, nadodominate at pinanghihinaan ng kalooban. Kaya tuloy minsan ay nagdadalawang-isip na akong maging bottom sapagkat ang unang tingin sa iyo ng lalaking ka-sex mo ay yung tipong nambabalibag.

Eclipse Gym Shaw, Cardio Area

Hindi ikaw ang binabarena sa kama.

At dahil napadpad na rin tayo sa usapang kama, napansin ko na kasabay ng pagiging matipuno ay siyang dami naman ng rejections at pang-iiwan na aking napala. Nariyan ang mga lalaking matapos mo yakapin ng buong gabi ay kakalimutan ka pagdating ng makalawa. Nariyan rin yung mga lalaking matapos maglaway sa litrato ng iyong katawan na naka-post sa internet ay manlalamig sa iyo't hindi ka na kakausapin matapos ang inyong pagkikita. Tingin ko tuloy sa sarili minsan ay isang karne na matapos gawing ulam ay itatae at iflu-flush na lang ng basta sa toilet.

Iyon ba ay dahil sa general impression na libog lang ang hanap ng mga kagaya ko?

O sadyang hindi nababagay sa akin ang pumorma ng ganito?

Kay sarap magmuni-muni ng mga ganitong bagay lalo pa't isang malaking tagumpay ang maibalik ang iyong timbang mula sa 172 lbs noong nakaraang buwan pababa sa 167. Hinala ko ay dahil ito sa pagliban ng pagkain ng kanin tuwing gabi at pati na rin mahabang lakaran papasok ng trabaho. At sa mga panahong ako ay nagdadalawang-isip ipagpatuloy ang gym ngayong inaasahan na ang aking suweldo para sumalo sa mga gastusing bahay,

Siya namang sagot sa aking hiling na huwag sana mawala ang pagbubuhat sa aking sistema.

Kaninang hapon ay nabasa ko ang isang promo na nakapaskil sa labas ng pintuan ng Eclipse. Naglalaman ito ng "Summer Discount" kung saan higit na mababa ang babayaran ng isang bagong miyembro kung isang buong taon ang kanyang kukuning kontrata.

Dali-dali kong kinausap ang receptionist upang ipaabot ang aking problema.

"Coach Ella, medyo nagco-cost cutting ako eh. Ayaw ko sana mawala ang work out." Paliwanag ko sa namamahala ng gym.

"Baka naman puwede ko makuha ang promo kahit dalawang taon na ako dito."

Madali kong napapayag ang magandang binibini.

Matapos ang sunod-sunod na kamalasang dinanas ngayong tag-araw, sa unang pagkakataon ay magtatapos ang aking entry na may magandang kuwento.

Sa buwanang membership fee na P1250 para sa paggamit ng facilities ng gym.

Ito ay bumagsak ng kalahati.

Sinarado ko ang bagong kontrata na pitong libo na lang ang bayad para sa buong taon.

Siege Mentality

A siege mentality is a shared feeling of helplessness, victimization and defensiveness. Although the term evolved from real sieges, today it refers to persecution feelings by anyone in the minority, or of a group that views itself as a threatened minority.

Introductions were made a few days ago after a common friend got us acquainted. I felt your desire to get close and I welcomed your presence with cautious approach. Your persistence was out of the ordinary: Sending text messages day and night to remind me that you were there was not just a gesture of friendship. Your unfounded sweetness was your weapon of choice and the moves you made led me to believe that a romantic revelation was forthcoming.

I agreed to a meet-up after attending a wake of a friend's father. It was an unscheduled encounter whose outcome may halt your further advances. The pitch black sky heaved with clouds as tiny raindrops still made their way to the ground. The drenched streets were empty and aside from the occasional Jeepneys racing the course of its permanent route, no one was around to witness our fallout.

At a convenience store not far from the intersection, I spotted you walking towards my direction. I knew it was you, but I delayed my introduction to see your initial reaction. You entered the store pretending that I remain unseen. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed and the message you sent confirmed your arrival. It took you sometime before emerging from the aisles. I do not know what your thoughts were but your empty eyes hinted of your disappointment.

Brief pleasantries were exchanged as tension mounted and awkwardness set in. You called our common friend in hopes of breaking the ice and restore the friendliness we had over SMS.

It would have worked had he knew we met.

But the conversation was cut short before I was able to pull a surprise and tell him of our eyeball.

The events that took place after led to our disconnection. What we had were dull moments, which ultimately spelled our hasty detachment. I stayed on until you were able to ride the bus. On my way home, the coldness, which began to manifest during our last conversation already permeated my inner senses.

"OL ka ha para confe tayo ni kuya."

Your sudden change of tone clearly spelled how disinterested you had become.

"Sige text text na lang bro."

One hour later.

The calls you made last night,

The whispers of concern that filled my inbox this afternoon,

and the sweet nothings of desperation were all gone.

What remained is the arctic silence

which will freeze the wall that now divides us.

Siege mentalities are particularly common in business, the result of competition or downsizing. Some churches may have this paradigm, particularly if they are not traditional mainstream groups. Dictatorships have been known to encourage this point of view among their own people, since it justifies the continuance of those in power. A contemporary example seems to be North Korea. This is also very commonly used in the field of sports, where coaches or managers often create a siege mentality in their players by highlighting an environment of hostility from outside the club (whether or not the hostility is real or exaggerated doesn't matter)