Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The Longest Sleep | A Retrograde Post

April 1, 2010

The last thing I remember was asking Curiouscat in a text message about the people he is with. It was past Nine in the evening. I was already lying comfortably in bed and just waiting for the last of my synapses to shut down. I had a very long day. Went to work at 4 in the morning after realizing I couldn't sleep. Dami kong iniisip about work lately, especially now that I'm doing an analysis of our agents' performance. After work, I had to re-read RedtheMod's revision. Final submission ng paper para sa Masters and being the true maestro, I don't feel confident sending my essays without his approval. When I felt certain that my pieces were ready to be graded, I sent it through email but a hard copy was required as well. So yun, after putting all my earnings at Banco De Oro and then paying the cable bill sa Skycable, off I went to Diliman to pass my essays - in printed form. Eh sarado na yung office ng Creative Writing Department and I don't have the luxury to return next week para mag-submit ng paper. So I thought, dropping by Dr. Dalisay's place to hand over my requirement to one of his assistants would be next thing to do. Buti na lang a classmate showed up and simple lang ang ginawa niya. She slid her paper under the door of the professor's office and then left. Ang presko niya. So yun rin ang ginawa ko. Going home to get some badly needed sleep was the most reasonable thing to do. Pero dahil nagiging prominent ako dun sa isang workout thread sa Pinoyexchange at dahil mas mga adik sakin yung ibang nagpopost dun, I am motivated to work out kahit ikauubos ko ng lakas yung buhat na gagawin ko. Pero bago muna yun, I treated myself at Kowloon House near Kalayaan Avenue to celebrate my achievement. Simpleng Jumbo Pao lang at solb na ako. I felt so stuffed after that I vowed never to return for a while. Sana pala nag-fried chicken na lang ako sa Ministop para medyo bitin. Lol. Since puyat talaga ako at yung mga nap ko the whole day were so light, the lack of sleep affected my performance. Twice yata akong muntikan mag black out pero okay lang, adik talaga eh. Workout turned out fine, and I was supposed to go home. Pero naalala ko kasi yung sabi ni Red na online pa rin daw ako sa MSN after arriving home from work. Since the office is just a 20-minute walk from the gym, I decided to drop by to check if someone had forgotten to turn off the computer. Wala naman pala, paranoid lang ako. Anyhow, I had to stay a little longer to console a colleague who found out that her ex-lover (and the father of her kid) is still alive. She told me her story and the sacrifices she did for her ex Belgian boyfriend. Kesyo siya daw ang nagsupport at nagbigay ng lodging after the guy left his country tapos ang isusukli lang pala eh mangbubuntis ng isang katulong. She said she feels bad not to receive any support for their son when he works in IBM while she works in a less pay-rewarding company like ours. The colleague mulled over the fact that he probably gets thrice the salary there compared to what she's getting now. I could only listen and tell her that she still enjoys a better life: That the guy is a looser for abandoning her after everything she did. The colleague felt relieved. Pero dahil uso pa rin yung Ghost Stories sa office, she asked me to accompany her back to the Floor. Nasabi ko na lang, "ang laki laki mong babae tapos titibo-tibo ka pa pero duwag ka rin pala!" Tumawa lang siya. I let an hour pass before I finally decided to retire to bed. In between the limbo of deep slumber and the fading wakefulness, I was still thinking of inviting someone for a sleepover. Utol was away and my mom - probably wouldn't mind if I ask another guy to keep us company.

The deja-vu guy has returned.

Pero it's Lenten Week nga pala and as they say, bawal ang karne.


I left the bed to eat lunch at past noon the following day.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Eye On The Tiger (Episode Ten)

Dahil ang senti ay nakikipagkupalan rin.

[09:35] eltigre: Aga ko buoy
[09:35] knox galen: sipag ah
[09:35] knox galen: baket ka aga ngayon?
[09:35] eltigre: Sa gym
[09:35] knox galen: hah!
[09:35] eltigre: Ganda pa ng kuha ko hahaha
[09:35] knox galen: nagbago ng time slot si miyaw miyaw
[09:35] knox galen: patingin ng pic mong bago
[09:35] eltigre: E kasi hanggang 10 lang si parj
[09:35] knox galen: honga pala!
[09:35] knox galen: idol kita
[09:35] knox galen: patingen naman ng pic mo
[09:35] knox galen: daliii
[09:37] eltigre: Idol?
[09:37] eltigre: Nge pic lang ng gym yun nu sa fb
[09:37] knox galen: oo nagbabago ka ng time slot
[09:37] knox galen: para lang makapaggym
[09:37] knox galen: hahaha
[09:38] eltigre: Oo nman nu nag didiet na din ako e
[09:39] eltigre: Try lang parang maganda mag workoit sa umaga mas malakas pa
[09:39] knox galen: diet diet
[09:39] knox galen: ako ren makikigaya
[09:39] knox galen: lol
[09:39] knox galen: hiramin ko yung isang pic mo ha!
[09:41] eltigre: Anung pic
[09:41] knox galen: yung tiger

His picture is now my Twitter avatar.

[09:41] eltigre: Alam mo ulam ko?
[09:41] knox galen: anu?
[09:45] eltigre: A beautiful steamed tilapia
[09:49] knox galen: diet ka nga

Tamang tamang lunch para sa pusa.

[09:49] knox galen: san ka sa holy week?
[09:53] eltigre: Dito hanggang thursday
[09:53] eltigre: Friday nueva
[09:53] knox galen: so magbibisita iglesia ka?
[09:54] eltigre: Hindi bisita cementerio

Naka-score siya dun ah!

[12:13] eltigre: badtrip kanina me ahole
[12:14] knox galen: bakit?
[12:14] knox galen: anong ginawa
[12:15] eltigre: kupal e pagsakay ko sa elavator
[12:15] eltigre: pinidot ko 8
[12:15] knox galen: tapos?
[12:15] eltigre: sabi ba naman 5th floor
[12:15] eltigre: anu ko operator tae nya
[12:16] eltigre: sabi ko a hole ka pala e
[12:17] knox galen: angas amp
[12:17] knox galen: tapos?
[12:17] eltigre: wala edi sya pumindot
[12:17] eltigre: sabi ko ahole lang
[12:18] knox galen: lalaki yan?
[12:18] knox galen: babae?
[12:20] eltigre: lalake
[12:20] eltigre: kung babae di naman ako ganun ka bastos
[12:20] knox galen: gago yun ah
[12:20] knox galen: tamad
[12:20] knox galen: dapat sinapak mo
[12:20] knox galen: nakakalalaki eh
[12:20] eltigre: parang muka ba akong operator
[12:20] eltigre: di naman siguro
[12:20] knox galen: tara puntahan ko mamaya
[12:20] knox galen: abangan natin

Kala mo kung sinong maangas, pero ambait bait naman kapag nakikita mo sa gym.

[12:25] eltigre: me bago na akong bestfriend
[12:25] eltigre: sa gym
[12:25] knox galen: sino?
[12:26] eltigre: ang mga kettlebells
[12:26] knox galen: hahaha
[12:26] knox galen: ako ren
[12:26] knox galen: friends ko sila

Yeah right, kakaturo lang sa akin kahapon ng dumbell row. Matagal pa bago ko maging bestfriend sina kettlebells.

[12:48] knox galen: kumain ka na ng tilapia?
[12:49] eltigre: di pa
[12:49] eltigre: fruits and eggs lang
[12:49] eltigre: for now
[12:49] eltigre: lunch yun e
[12:49] knox galen: cobra lang ako buong araw
[12:49] knox galen: hopefully
[12:50] knox galen: menudo dinner mamaya sa bahay
[12:50] knox galen: hahaha
[12:50] knox galen: with fried egg
[12:50] eltigre: bkit
[12:50] eltigre: ahhahaa
[12:50] eltigre: iw
[12:50] eltigre: fried
[12:50] knox galen: arte mu
[12:50] knox galen: kumakain ka rin naman ng itlog ah!

Sa totoo, ibang itlog ang nasa isip ko. Pero ayaw kong mag-imagine.

More than a year ko na kilala si El Tigre. Hanggang ngayon ay wala pa rin idea ang mokong tungkol sa akin. The bond is there. Hindi na siya nag-aangas gaya ng dati. Tinanggap na rin niya na siya si Miyaw-Miyaw. And when I thought he didn't care - kung anumang care yun - a few weeks ago, nagkakaabot kami sa gym dahil naging graveyard shift ako. Simpleng horseplay lang bago pumasok sa work at solb na ako sa pang-aasar. (libre pisil sa braso yun. Parang ako walang biceps. Hahaha!) The next gym day after I resumed my normal schedule. Nagtext ng ewan ang pusa.

"Di ka gym. Aga ko pa naman."

Hangsweet! Nilanggam ako sa Cubao.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Empire State Of Mind

Even if it ain't all it seems
I got a pocketful of dreams

Alicia Keys
Empire State Of Mind Pt. II

He was standing in a corner wobbling from side to side. Wasted, it must be the kick of the alcohol wearing off his sense of balance. His face was shrouded under a white baseball cap. But his small piercing eyes, his slender high-bridged nose, and his manly allure tempted me to keep looking towards his direction.

Rivals were everywhere and there was an urgency to stake my claim. For he was alone too, and there was a shortage of very straight-acting men that night. Experience cautions to approach with care. he might be the type who responds well to subtle seduction.

I allowed myself to be carried away by the crowd. He was near the bathroom and the transit of people would take me right off his feet. Unfortunately, I was too slow to make a move. Another guy knifed through my diskarte and took his hand like the prospect's merely a random pick-up. This guy thought he gained a point. After all, he was tall and had a lean body, and he shamelessly displayed the fruits of his diet by dancing naked on the ledge.

Preparing to back off and resume my hunt, I noticed that the prospect was rejecting the guy's advances.

"Maangas nga!!" A faint smile reaffirms my first impression. "Lemme check if he would bite my bait."

I held my ground and waited for the aggressor to leave.

I rely on body gestures when playing the game of seduction. In a crowded club, a guy who holds his ground even when you start invading his dance space most likely conveys a warm reception. The gentle brushing of the fingers lead to interlocking of the hands. A guy who craftily rubs his ass against your crotch means he wanted to dance with you. No words are spoken. Not even smiles. Seldom do I trade glances, but when I bust a move in front of another guy, it means I am tempting him to ensnare me.

Except when the guy is my friend.

This method of seduction works best for those who play hard to get. Some guys enjoy the challenge of second guessing before realizing that someone's actually making a pass. I settled scores with masculines this way - and often gets a French kiss as a reward. However, most masculines think I'm too tough for them. (or maybe because there's someone better-looking out there) So in the end, they stay with the effeminate ones. After all, these guys are more approachable and their intentions, more pronounced than the read-between-the-lines I tend to hint.

"Pare may yosi ka?" Finally the prospect was the one who broke our silence.

"Wala eh pero bili ako sa labas." He was sitting just behind the ledge, probably exhausted from the other activities he had before dropping by the club.

Lady Gaga's Bad Romance blares from the huge speakers suspended on walls. But I chose to ignore its infectious beats just to get hold of the one I was eyeing. Between the puffs of Marlboro, he began to open up by introducing himself. His name is Carlo and he found himself in Malate after his another party ended early.

"Saan ka nakatira?" He inquired. I somehow get the subtext of his message.

"Sa Santa Mesa," I nonchalantly replied.

"Ako din tiga dun lang." He answered. "San ka sa Santa Mesa?" Asking for my exact location would not get us anywhere. The last person who probed my location immediately followed his inquiry with a very nifty offering.

"May ibang tao sa place mo?" [Subtext: Hope we could hang out at your place after the party]

Even when he was a crush and I was very tempted to sleep with him, I chose to decline his advances.

Over the years I learned to discern the language of straight-acting men in heat that even the most ambiguous words come out as crystal clear. Any reference to home means hook-up and even a simple coffee date (depending on how long and engaging your conversation was) may lead to something more consummate. An invitation to a fast food chain means a quickie in the bathroom and a movie eyeball, of course, maybe an invitation to a make-out in the dark. Some would see this as a product of a colorful imagination but that's how I am beginning to think. Lately, I've been experimenting with people I meet in the streets. But others, especially the daring ones have gone through that road long before I gave names to my little scorpions.

I was able to hold the prospect long enough to even have an outcome from our little game. He confided to me that he was high on E and wanted to dance until its effects wear off. I encouraged him to mount the ledge. I even took off his shirt for I sense what's underneath would make everyone's eyes (including mine) glued with carnal intentions.

The prospect was a good dancer. His big arms, his broad chest and his seductive body movements would make up for his slightly rounded tummy. How I wished he was open to dancing with me. A lanky kid tried to run his fingers down his torso, but the prospect's hands acted fast before it could reach his navel shaming the kid for ever making such move.

It was almost four in the morning and Akon's Sexy Bitch revs up the crowd once more. I danced alongside the prospect just to make sure he wouldn't be alone on the ledge. At the back of my head, a great debate rages. Would I stay until he tires himself? (hoping to get an invitation to stay in his place) Would I ask for his number? (but what for, all the other guys from the Scorpion days ignored my text messages) Do I have to keep my guard knowing I'm very attracted to the prospect (and I tend to lose myself whenever I am in such predicament)

A conclusion was made after the David Guetta track had ended. I'm going home.

"Carlo mauna na ako."

"Bakit alis ka na?"

"Inaantok na kasi ako eh. Enjoy ka diyan."

"Sige... mamaya pa akong 5 uuwi eh." I never bothered to ask for his number.

Finding K, V and E sitting in a table outside the bar, I bid the clique goodbye and told them I have to pick up someone else. The excuse was for defense. The Empire State, also known as my pride was about to crumble and I have grown too accustomed leaving things hanging rather than end a game of seduction the way

it has always been.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

A Need For Victory

I decided to delay the Masters early last year. Fearing that I am ill-equipped to face the challenges of writing the thesis, I didn't submit the final requirement in a Creative Writing subject resulting to an incomplete grade. During the second semester, I took the subject again and its facilitator, Butch Dalisay welcomed my return with open arms.

Now Butch Dalisay is a highly respected writer. His mere presence is enough for my muses to tremble in fear. What more if its the esteemed man of letters the one judging my works? Capitulating from shame, it is also one of the reasons I didn't deliver my revised essays.

Truth was, I felt inferior in his class. It's like all knowledge gathered from the three years of honing my craft meant nothing. A mediocre student will be forced to do some soul searching before he could complete his subject. Just like me, I spent an entire year in self-exile discovering new words and new styles of writing so it would worth his time reading my works.

But don't get me wrong, Dalisay is one of the best mentors a budding writer could cross path. His self-effacing and gentle nature makes him one of the most approachable legend, even to those who only knew him by name. His wisdom is treasured, his humility deserves exaltation. I was deeply touched when he remembered an article I submitted last year. Who knew he notices me despite my self-perceived insignificance in class.

"Hey he made reference to your Sims article when you were absent. Sayang nga eh, he wanted you to explain your work." A classmate said while walking along University Avenue one evening.

I was speechless and on the verge of writing a blog entry about it.

Another semester will come to an end and the days of revising the essays have already started. Revising is more difficult than writing, for it is in the realization of flaws and the need to breathe new life to an already finished work a writer refines his craft.

And it is painful to accept imperfections.

Time is running out and it is impossible to ignore the urgency of fulfilling a goal. The money set for the academic project is already gone and I still have a language exam to pass. With life heading towards a different direction and with frustrations over family already mounting, to finally get a grade this semester is a victory I desperate need just to remind myself -

- not everything is lost.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Teach Us To Be Forgiving

Utol had a Rhinoplasty early last year. She got it for free thanks to our favorite aunt who moved mountains just to help my mom draw the sister out of her Leftist influences.

You see, genes have gifted us with a bulbous nasal organ. This truth makes us a little embarrassed when being compared to someone who possesses a narrow and high-bridged nose. When we were young, utol would get depressed when someone calls her "pango." I was spared from such shame because I'm a guy, but it cost her an entire high school and college life without finding romance - not even a date.

So the Matriarchs agreed. She will get a Noselift.

I was there at the hospital that early morning. My mom could not be with us and so she had to ask me to look after my sister while the Plastic Surgeon reconstructs her nose. The favorite aunt was also there. She showed up to allay my sister's fears that the surgery might further botch up her perceived distorted face.

While the procedure was ongoing within the Lysol scented operating room, I took a stroll to keep boredom from eating me alive. Downstairs, across the lobby is where humanity fought among themselves to avail of free medical help. I saw with my own eyes how the penniless had to wait an entire day just to have free surgery. Since there is a quota of patients to be admitted, those who came late must return the following day to try their luck again.

Some surgeries get to be performed, while others don't. One thing is for sure, one has to fall in line and get a blue card before a patient gets a treatment. Some would spend several nights sleeping under starless skies just to be at the door before it opens at six. The sick and the elderly choose not to fight against the healthier ones. Most of them merely leave to retire elsewhere.

And because the aunt holds a very high position in the hospital, we were spared from waiting like the rest of humanity did.

Unlike utol, I had to work hard just to acquire something. I had to shell out my hard-earned money when I thought of enrolling in the Masters' program. I had to use my credit card to buy my own TV, and if ever I decide to re-install braces on my teeth or buy a DSLR Camera or Laptop Computer to satisfy my hidden passions, I will bear the price for everything I desire.

But utol almost had everything - if it would mean the end of her wasteful activities.

The Rhinoplasty procedure was a success - and I was told - that real men should never desire such aesthetic implements. There goes my secret plan to boost my market value. But by then, the sights and sufferings of other patients have already made a mark on my head. I felt guilty of ever thinking of competing with them for meager government resources.

"Let the masses have my privilege." I said to myself before boarding my aunt's sedan after the operation. "I could do well by just being me."

Months after the procedure, utol resumed her Tibak activities. Her excuse was life has no meaning without Mao. This time, she was alone no more. One night, she brought home someone. A thin, long haired guy we first thought as merely her comrade.

Weeks later, my mom would tell me, the guy is utol's first (and hopefully her last) boyfriend.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

A Life Replayed

Sinasabi ni mama na unexpected ang pagdadalang-tao niya sa akin. Bukod sa pagiging isang disabled person ay kasisimula pa lang niyang magturo sa kolehiyo. Ang tatay ko naman ay nakahanap ng trabaho sa isang Travel Agency. Subalit dahil sa liit ng sweldong kanyang natatanggap ay hindi ito sasapat maski pambuhay sa kanyang sarili.

Parehong leftist ang aking mga magulang. Panahon iyon ng Martial Law at usong-uso ang idea ng pakikibaka at pagpapabagsak ng gobyerno. Ito daw ay sa ngalan ng pagbabago. Dumadaloy sa dugo ng aking mga magulang ang pagiging rebelde at palaban. Hindi nakakapagtakang ang mga ugaling ito ay namana naming mag-utol.

Hindi kinakaila ng aking mga magulang na naging pabigat sila noong kanilang kabataan. Sa halip na maghanap ng trabaho at makatulong sa pamilya ay sa iba nila binaling ang panahon. Nilimot nila ang mga responsibilidad sa bahay at sa halip ay inasa ito sa kanilang mga kapatid. Ang aking nanay na panganay ay nawili sa pagra-rally at pag-iindoctrinate ng mga bagong miyembro sa kanyang grupo. Ang kanilang ikalawa ang tumayong ate para sa kanilang anim na nakababatang kapatid. Ang tatay ko naman ay hindi maasahan kahit sinusugod sa ospital ang kanyang nanay na Diabetic. Tanging ang kanyang nakababatang kapatid ang naroon upang ipagamot ang matandang may sakit.

Ang mga kapabayaang ito ay naging ugat ng isang malalim na di-pagkakaunawan sa kanilang pamilya. Marami ang nagtanim ng sama ng loob sa kanilang ginawa na hanggang sa ngayon ay hindi pa buong naibabaon sa limot.

Sabi ng mga pantas, kung ano ang ikinilos ng mga magulang sa pagkabata ay siyang ikikilos ng mga anak sa kanilang pagtanda. Hindi ko tiyak ang pinaghugutan ng kasabihang ito. Ngunit kung iisipin ang magiging takbo ng buhay namin sa buhay ni mama noong kanyang kabataan, hindi maiiwasan ikumpara ang mga similarities.

"Nagsimula lang akong tumino nung mag-asawa." Minsang nabanggit ng nanay ko sa akin.

"Nagkaroon lang ng direksyon ang buhay ko nang ipinanganak kita."

Re-Education Camp

Their leadership style has changed
when they all came out of the training hall.
Their ruthless efficiency
now disarms me.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Bones Under The Work Station

A repost:

Pasado alas-diyes ng gabi.

Umalis kami sa bahay ni Moosh na kapwa lasing. Palibhasa'y napagkasunduan na magkasabay kaming uuwi, pumara ako ng taxi na magdadala sa aming kanya- kanyang bahay. Ang plano ko ay i-drop off muna siya sa kanyang bahay sa Mandaluyong bago dumiretso sa amin. Tutal, magkatropa naman kami. Ngunit sa hindi inaasahang pangyayari, iba pala ang magiging takbo ng gabing iyon para sa akin.

Habang binabagtas ng taxi ang kahabaan ng Bonny Serrano, muli niyang nabanggit ang naging drama noong inuman. Isang kasamahan ang nagsabing ang first impression daw niya sa akin ay isang "girl," na kunwari namang ikinagalit ko at ipinakita sa pamamagitan ng pagsuntok sa lamesa sabay walk-out sa mga kasama ko. Ngunit ang totoo, iyon ay isang pag-tritrip lamang. Alam naman ng host kung ano talaga ang sexual preference ko.

Ang usapang iyon ay nauwi sa munting confession sa kanyang bahagi. Noong una, may gusto siyang sabihin na hindi niya masabi ng diretso sa akin. "What will you feel if you have a dark secret and a friend of yours spilled it to everyone?" bungad niya. Ako nama'y nagpatay-malisya lang. Sa kanyang tanong, ang tanging naitugon ko lang ay "What do you mean dude?"

Nagkaroon ng kaunting katahimikan sa pagitan naming dalawa habang patuloy pa rin ang andar ng taxi. Kinulit ko siya sa ikalawang pagkakataon upang linawin ang kanyang sinabi, siya nama'y nagtikom bibig lang.

Nang naramdaman niya na hindi na ako magsasalita at magtatanong tungkol sa kanyang naunang nabanggit, kinuha niya ang aking kamay at idinantay sa kanyang harapan. "Does this mean something to you?" Tanong niya. Ako nama'y natameme sa kanyang napaka-agresibong galaw. Isa yun sa mga classic na-korner moments na hinding hindi ko makakalimutan.

"It feels good, don't take your hand away," pakiusap niya sa akin.

Pinisil ko ito upang malaman niya na gusto ko ang kanyang ginawa. "Saan tayo ngayon?" Tanong niya. "Trip mo ba?" bato ko kanya. Nang hindi siya makapagdesisyon para sa ginawa niyang pangkokorner, inulit ko ang aking tanong.

"Trip mo ba tol?"

"Ikaw ang bahala," ang tanging naitugon niya sa akin.

Pinara ko ang taxi sa may tabi ng PS Bank upang mag-withdraw ng extra cash. Noong mga oras na iyon, hindi na mahalaga kung saan kami makarating o kung ano man ang mangyari sa amin. Pagbalik ko sa taxi, siya naman ang pumisil sa aking harapan, upang siguro ay makumbinsi ako na ang kanyang mga galaw ay hindi basta trip-trip lang.

Kumbaga sa term ni mga bading, isa siyang Gen-Txt. He is one of us.

Habang nakahinto ang taxi sa panulukan ng Araneta Avenue at N. Domingo, sumandal siya sa balikat ko upang umidlip sandali. Ako naman ay tumawag sa bahay upang ipaalam na magpapa-umaga ako sa bahay nila Moosh. Ang dahilan ko ay upang higit na maka-bond ang mga katrabaho ko.

Hindi nila alam na isang tao lang ang gusto kong maka-bond noong gabing iyon.

Patuloy ang takbo ng taxi. Sa wakas ay natawid na namin ang V. Mapa at nasa lugar na kami kung saan naroon ang mga motel. Balak ko sana na sa isang motel malapit sa Crossing ko siya dadalhin. Ngunit, habang pakanan kami patungong Shaw, namataan ko sa aking kanan ang Anito. Marahil na rin sa thrill at excitement na makaniig ang tinuturing kong best-bud sa trabaho, bigla kong inutos sa taxi driver na lumiko sa makipot na daanan papasok ng motel.

The rest is history.

Many years later, the colleague fated to be my sole affair in the workplace has a very good chance of becoming my junior officer.

All Along The Watchtower

10:46 pm

Arrived at the office five minutes before the shift started. Pman still runs the afternoon team and was busy writing his report. Operations nominal. No major escalation has been reported.

A rushed performance. I had to brief the agents about the changes mandated by the clients. One key agent was absent, she was replaced by someone I am nurturing for a special account.

Will floor walk after this beginner's log.


The big boss left an hour ago. His departure meant that I am now the highest-ranking officer in the company. The responsibilities are breathtaking. With around 25 agents to account for, I have to make sure everyone delivers. Sent my morning greetings to the Argentinian clients a while ago. They remain, at best, accommodating. I have lots of questions to ask them - about their lives. Buenos Aires and Manila are two worlds apart. I wonder if our cultural heritage makes us more connected than with the Germans or Italians.

Since its already half-way before the month ends, we expect a decrease in workload. But one cannot be complacent of the lull. Trouble lurks around the corner. Just last night, the company e-mail experienced a downtime and it threw me into fits of panic. Thought the agents could not access their files. Fortunately, it was restored before the next team took over. I cannot afford such scenario from happening again.

People will be taking their breaks anytime soon. Some will be having their lunch, while others, their smoking break. But I'm quite happy sipping a mug of Green Tea in my little corner. Hopefully, its healing properties would keep my negative thoughts at bay.

2:05 am

I find it highly disappointing when some agents leave their stations to take their smoking break without my permission. It's like bypassing my authority. I've been warned by their Team Leaders but what can I do, I'm just a reliever. I can't throw my weight around and boss everyone. A compromise would be a good idea and that's what I'm doing. No one leaves the premises without my knowledge. You see, there's a convenience store nearby and a grumbling stomach might tempt someone to take a stroll. However, one must walk across empty streets just to get there and that I cannot risk my agents to do. Therefore, anyone who wishes to buy something must find a partner. It's for their own protection.

My head is getting heavy and my stomach is grumbling too. Since I didn't withdraw any money before going to work, I have to do with Marlboro Blacks and Green Tea until my shift ends.

4:20 am

The first salvos came before 4 o'clock. The agents sprung into action and workload was delivered after 30 minutes. Clients were satisfied with our response time. We have entered a brief lull again but job detail will now come in batches.

There's a persistent ghost story being circulated on the floor. To give you a background, the company leases its space in an old building which looks more of an abandoned warehouse than a modern office block. Last week, a pale-faced and shaking delivery boy showed up at the reception area. Asked about what happened, the Jollibee man told the curious agents that a faceless boy suddenly appeared behind him inside the elevator. The infamous apparition of this young boy is already well-known and his renewed haunting only discourage the agents from leaving the floor alone.

5:03 am

Gusto kong maiyak.

"Mami: haler... can't talk now... busy finishing some exercise materials for the training... but wanted to drop you a line to let you know we are very glad to have you around for the GY shift, managing very capably :)
byeeeee :)"

5:45 am

In fifteen minutes, a night will come to a close. One more run and this week-long duty will be over. Famished and exhausted, I use the last of my strength preparing my team for the morning shift transition. There is no time for introspection. If there is anything I've learned during this night's performance, it is to be one with your team. A leader must look after his agents' needs, and they in return, will acknowledge your supremacy.

I will collect my final thoughts when I get some sleep. It's time to go home.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Call Of Duty

At first, there was the mental conditioning. It must be the reason I partied hard last weekend. Work pressures will build up and absolute attention to details is needed to perform well.

Then there was the unofficial briefing. Consulted the team leaders I will be relieving. It's been a year since I took over a supervisor post and a time has come to gather all my strength and wisdom to run an operations again.

Finally there was the official correspondence. Clients were informed of the brief changes that will happen in the company.

First off, welcome back to [name of client] We hope you enjoyed your vacation.

Next, please be informed that our office is holding its annual Management Skills Upgrade Training for managers. For 2010, the dates selected are from March 16-19. Training takes place from 7 am - 4 pm (Manila, GMT +8) or 7 pm - 4 am EDT.

One of the highlights of the training course is a review of Quality Management Methods, including [undisclosed management principles that will be introduced in the system.] We are also going to be applying Alpha-Omega [an invented term] concepts to the managers, as a step towards hopefully gaining a higher client satisfaction index, through the commission of a more streamlined approach in our Operations Department.

Towards this end, we have endorsed temporary supervisors for the shifts.

Kindly note, however, that [name of the big boss] and I are aware of the importance of having the actual floor leaders maintain communication with you. As such, even as the team leaders are training with us, they are also keeping in touch with their officers-in-charge and their agents as well, particularly for our morning and afternoon shifts. Anyway, our Training Department is just a floor away from the Operations Area.

For our graveyard shift, [name of the big boss] has personally assigned Galen to man the Floor while [name of team leaders] are in training.

Galen would have been part of the course, but since our graveyard shift usually handles heavy traffic, [name of the big boss] decided to assign the big responsibility of client servicing to someone who has already interacted with you, and more importantly, knows the governing guidelines and materials used in the accounts.

Galen has been instructed to give us feedback whenever his shift ends. In the meantime, we also check our e-mails to keep track of what is going on.

Please be assured that your welfare and that of your products, remain a priority for us.

This is the reason I had to cut the reign of the scorpions.

Three nights to go and my temporary leadership functions will end.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

End | Mad Season

"Saan area mo pare?" The opening shots were fired at mid-noon.

"Dito lang sa may Lorraine Place. Pic mo?" He was a ride away from home.

"Eto akin. Punta ka na lang dito. Rm-XXX. Bring your ID and present it to the guard." He must be very horny to immediately seal the deal. For someone who looks boyish and fit and good-looking in a photo, I expected a little challenge.

"Quikie lang ito ha?" I grudgingly accepted his terms.

It's been a hell week since announcing the return of the scorpions. I thought taming them would be a breeze because I took care of the previous ones without a hitch. For some reasons, the scorpions of the present loomed beyond my ability to discern things. Friends worry of my impulsiveness. It was my prick taking over the wheel.

I did my best to hold back the build up. I used lots of deterrence to go around my pulsating urge. There was the dreaded pandemic, the previous lows after getting a moment's high, the reminder of things I stood for, and the promise to never return to the old ways of seeing lust as an affirmation of strength. But these repressions only nailed the objective. There was no use in stopping. The body wishes not to be toyed anymore.

"Hey paalis na akong bahay. I'll be there in 30 minutes." Message sent.

"Okay. Basta sabihin mo sa guard, RM-XXX. No questions asked." The confirmation was received. There was no turning back.

The hook-up is very timing. It's like someone had taken care of the rest and all I have to do is show up for the quickie. Mother requested some stuffs in Recto and the pets needed more pellets to address their growing appetite. The prospect's place, halfway between home and the destinations was a tempting stop-over. A quick fix would do.

I want my life back.

Remembering the fiery days, I spent the weekend searching for that person who could fill me. I wanted a consummated union. I needed to feel, or be attached - just for a moment. In the quest to find the most acceptable match, I trampled souls by destroying their egos. Time was wasted and the world out there is never a place I'd wish a loved one to inherit.

For I am tired of things that are fleeting.

"San ka na?" My booking was getting restless.

"Dito na sa baba. Pasensya na traffic."

Instincts tell to double-think. I'm not fond of entering enemy territory without seeing the face of the pit boss. To retreat would be difficult, especially when clear-cut instructions were already in place. Nobody might pick up my distress call - in time to make a lousy excuse and say,

"Pasensya na, I have an emergency. I need to leave now."

So I said a simple prayer to the angels of fertility so that in lust and regret, I may never be far from their wings.

"May this be the end of a cycle. Please keep the troubles away after the deed is done"

After which, I gently knock at the partner's door and disappear into his lair to be consumed and impaled by his rage.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Battleground States | Mad Season (Second Part)

It must be the tempestuous heat driving the body crazy. It was as if the dam holding promiscuity at bay threatens to burst open inundating every dry patch of land it could cover. Control stays very suppressive, but the challenge to topple the old order has already begun. The scorpions are winning. Reason has little powers left.

Sunday afternoon. I was supposed to go to my superior's house in Project 4 to borrow a new anti-virus. My Kaspersky subscription has ended, and my computer is under threat. I was also planning to copy her downloaded movies to keep myself busy. An idle mind is a ground for temptation and in a time I needed so much distraction, every effort to lose focus would be highly appreciated.

Unfortunately, I arrived too late. Mami Athena fell asleep from waiting and I don't have the nerves to wake her up just to get my files. So I stayed in an internet shop in Cubao instead just to download the anti-virus.

Like I said, an idle mind is a breeding ground for pleasurable things. Blocking all attempts to communicate with friends, I reverted to this old entity - a cruel side hiding my innermost brutality. Had it been a bathhouse scene, he would crush any attempts at seduction. I saw hands flew before and it was a sight I would never forget. This entity would chose one guy. One guy who would equal his being astig. He might not be exactly good-looking - but at least someone who could deal with this entity's unbounded rage.

Back in MIRc, a prospect was offering his pad. The place was nearby so it was good to me. A deal was arranged and photos were exchanged. He looked average. His skin tone matched mine. He could be tolerated for barely meeting my expectations. However, there was a problem. Looking at his pictures, (for I require a second glance) I would appear masculine even when he's the top. It was quite awkward so I had to stall and look for another prospect. I thought that since I'm at a crossroad, maybe someone out there might pose a bigger challenge.

Hours passed and I've learned how rewarding it is to keep a body fit. Men will find you interesting even when you don't show your face-pic. Masculinity is another asset I never fail to employ. For when you show a facade that is highly astigin and yet equally submissive to a guy desperate for a lay,

Even proposals for a check-in (probably all-expense paid) comes your way.

You might ask if I enjoy the game of seduction. Truth is. Never. It's a sick and perverted state I am forced to embrace. Swinging sideways between showing your angas while masking your self-doubt might work for others, but I see the game as highly cruel.

It taints everything I stand for.

Once or twice, when these impulsive scorpions reappeared before, I asked a doctor friend if there's a drug to suppress one's libido. He was dumbfounded. I too was aware of my stupendous inquiry. Why would one deliberately messes his nature when its normal. (especially in my case because I adhere to a cycle) Looking back, I might be the only single guy who would be desperate enough to take such course of action.

Despite being in a state of war - against myself and those strangers - I tried to open sensible conversations in a sleazy medium. It's like talking about Einstein or ending world starvation in an orgy party. The result was equally damaging. It's like pretending to be goody-goody when you still hum the familiar sound of a mating call. Such attempt in having conversations failed miserably. I don't think I'd keep a friend after this dry spell passes over.


Eventually I was able to chat with a cool guy who lives within my area. It was a nice conversation, punctured by some sexual talk which spiced up our exchanges. He wanted to be friends and since we share the same bed preference, I trust that there was no harm in trying. We would share bookings online, only to smirk at how masculine we appeared over our supposed-to-be prospects. On my side, the dealings were not getting anywhere. I am in fact, courting trouble.

So when a prospect (someone less interesting than the one I stalled) aligned himself with the one I was supposed to meet, (the one I stalled) I finally decided to quit chatting.

It's not my plan to engage two boys in a bed fight. (even when I sounded like I was ready to take them both)

The cool guy and I traded numbers before going offline. He was suggesting a friendly hang-out after attending the mass. Realizing how I wasted other people's time stalling an arrangement, I felt guilty of my actions. I never desired a payback.

Thinking of ways to make up for all those deceptions, (in this case, giving false hopes of an unforgettable orgasm, when I already took it in my own hands to pleasure myself) I submitted a new proposal to the cool guy.

"Simba na lang tayo para hulsam ang meet-up natin." He agreed.


And so the cool guy and I met. He was six footer, lean, and had a soul patch below his lips. He appeared rugged - like a rakista who just left a gig. We attended the mass at San Antonio's and had a sumptuous Mais Con Yelo dessert at nearby Andok's. It was his treat.

I hoped the weekend skirmish would end in a wholesome meet-up. I was ready to give up the search believing that there's a better conclusion to the Mad Season. Mister Cool Guy seems interesting. He shared things no other eye-ball from #Salsalan would dare divulge. We were human to each other so I thought I could keep him as a friend.

But just as we walked towards the jeepney stop, he suddenly squeezed my junior. It was somehow expected.

"Tangina ang sarap, huwag mo nang ulitin at baka may magalit." I quipped. He laughed.

Mister cool guy floated the idea of hanging out in my place. But by then his intentions were very clear and I was merely interested. History tells that everyone who crossed the line - in my place - vanished without a trace, save for one who only made a dent. And now that I've wasted too much time sharing spaces with someone who is bound to leave, there's no use extending invitations.

Besides my mama would ask again, "Sino na naman yang lalaking dinala mo?" And I'm running out of excuses.

His last text came an hour after parting ways. He thanked me for the meet-up, despite getting tired from walking.

A day later, it remains his final word.



Ring Of Fire | Mad Season (First Part)

It ain't easy to let junior do the dealing, for it would take a single day and a single night to keep his little pisshole from talking.

Weekend morning. I went home empty handed after Brent pulled-out from our "academic" session. It didn't discourage me from dancing with scorpions because my supposed-to-be partner's need was already passed on to me. I went to my room not to rest but to go online. Logging in at MIRC, my mating call echoed my rage. I was horny. Invitations flooded in after showing my provocative photos. One prospect lives a block away and I was ready to storm his fort when he said:

"Versa ako eh. Okay lang kahit fuck mo ako."

What the fuck! All I need was a good pounding. Something that would make me cringe (out of pain or guilt) for a long time. His pictures doesn't look imposing, no wonder he was willing to be dominated. Remembering a tropa who never hunts just for the sake of having a prey, I backed out from the dealing. Instead I just had this sexy chat conversation with an American call center boss who goes insane when someone "rides his horse."

Noon came and I was back online. There's another neighbor in need to get laid. The bed preferences were clear so a deal was struck. His place. Meet-up was at a convenience store next to our street. He showed up and his looks reminded me of Mr. Big - Carrie Bradshaw's husband. Built-wise, he failed. I'm searching for someone leaner. Physical attributes, average. He's not the ER type which makes junior drool. But as they say, lamang tiyan na rin yan. At least the itch would be taken away for good.

However, Mr. Big slipped some new clauses which were previously not part of the deal. He said his brother had just arrived and his place would be unavailable. He suggested a nearby Chowking as an alternative. Now I'm not surprised why a playmate suggested the place after our game of seduction was cut off inside the FX last year. Something mysterious really happens inside its bathroom cubicles, which I am not keen to explore.

I told Mister Big that I don't do it in a fastfood restaurant. He then suggested a cockroach-infested motel nearby. He will pay for our short-time stay. I countered his proposal by telling him that I could check-in with a different guy, if that's the set-up I have in mind. We decided to have a stroll to think of other ways to do our bidding. But when he ran out of ideas, he suggested to do it in my place instead.

I declined.

His method of changing the venue instead of sticking to the original plan reminds me of someone. I slept with this guy many years ago. He was a neighbor too, and our previous agreement was to do it in his place. Same story goes, a sibling suddenly returned home and his room would not be available. I had no choice but to invite him in my room instead. We did it and his performance was highly disappointing.

Would you enjoy a guy who ejaculates prematurely?

Staring at my eyeball, his shabby hair and rounded body hint of poor maintenance. His tired face and heavy gaze watermark a busy life. The guy I invited home was fit, confident and domineering. The eyeball was domineering, but the confidence he once possessed is something I now own. He was me and I was him. Now that our roles have changed, I decided to call the shots myself.

"Sabihan mo na lang ako kapag okay na yung place mo. Magpapakasarap tayo." He was nudging the thing between my legs while describing in details at how he would trash me.

"Tama na. Wala akong suot na briefs pare." I complained. It would be difficult to get up from our seat should he go on with his description.

Eventually, the agreement was broken when Mister Big surrendered to the scorching heat. It was already past one and bedtime was still a long way.

The scorpions were going insane.

And yours truly remains tigang.


Sunday, March 14, 2010

The Irony Of Hook-Ups

For two straight nights, I found myself getting wasted on the dance floors of Malate. The scorpions reign supreme and I am, but a slave to its urgings. Describing each moment as fun would be an understatement. It was euphoric. Since I already made new friends after Kane introduced me to his clique, the game of seduction became less difficult. People now see your fame. A lot were willing to be the prey that night. You can sense them when trading glances, or when they discreetly squeeze your prick or your hand - depending on which gets to be snapped first. A big, mestizo neighbor kept stepping on my foot. Must be bitter still after ditching his proposal to go home the first time we got introduced. Of all the hand intrusions, none were successful in getting my attention. My guess is either I let discriminating taste affect my judgment, (on the contrary, Rain Darwin used to comment about bringing "exotic" guys in the Engkantos) or I was enjoying having V (Kane's best friend) as company.

So there. It was already past three and I am losing my options. Hate to admit but it seems I have to resort to chatting just to tempt my demons. Checking my phone, saw a missed call and a text message. It was from a guy I met in the chat room that afternoon. He was asking if I'm still up. I said yes. To cut the story short, he wanted us to meet.

This guy, which we would call Brent for this entry is new two the scene. Brent wanted to bed a "hunky" and "masculine" guy. I told him to look for someone else. I offered my hand of friendship instead. But Brent was insistent, he said my picturetrail photos do well according to his taste. Told him the photos were deceptive. I'd rather believe my own words than accept other's perception. Haha.

"Would you rather give me to someone else, when you could personally teach everything you know?" The Lamang Lupa of Engkantos suddenly intruded my thoughts.

"You sure you want me to do it for you?" I was hesitant. Instincts tell me that I'm dealing with a far more superior kid.

"Ikaw rin. I might hire someone just to get off this itch." He nailed a point.


The cab cruises off Espana beating the traffic lights along the way. Meeting place was at Burger King near Welcome Rotonda. I arrived twenty minutes earlier. Wasted and exhausted, I got an apology message. The kid will be late. He needed to grab something to eat. I knew it was him when the guard opened the glass door. He went directly to the bathroom, probably to take a leak.

I trailed behind to finally know the verdict. My instincts were correct, he is a supremo.

The kid is probably 5'11. Sporting a semikal hair, he appears far, far younger for his age. He said he's 26 but his fair and spotless face suggest of being in his early 20s. His boy-next-door charm defies my ER rule. But since the kid looks and acts very, very astigin, plus he reminds me of another guy I slept with last summer,

I was willing to dance with scorpions.

But he's not.

"Dude I'm sorry, I have to call off our trip." He began. "Nakasalubong ko yung tropa ko and he's wondering why I'm here at this ungodly hour."

Yeah, I was wondering too why I let my urges drag me from Malate to Welcome Rotonda for this meet-up.

"So I told him tambay muna ako sa kanila." He explained further.

"Yeah right, at least you showed up fucker," I said in my head.

"Honga pare eh, mukhang lasing na lasing ka na." I affirmed. "Medyo pagod na rin ako so..."

"... next time na lang." He finished my sentence.

"Yeah next time na nga lang." I was looking at his face and his woozy movement. It looks like he's about to pass out.

"Kaya mo pa makauwi niyan?"

"Sa bahay ng friend ko ako makikistay. Diyan lang naman siya." He reassured.

"Pasensya na talaga. Sorry for dragging you here. Don't worry i'll make it up to you next time."


But the truth is, there will never be a next time. Some other guy might have already squashed my scorpions.

If only I stuck to keeping him as a friend instead, lesser would be our chances of hostility.

We parted ways ten minutes after meeting up. I never showed hints of attraction, nor willingness to renegotiate a deal. There's a need to cover up the tracks.

Deleting his text messages was a matter of pride. It was an attempt to forget a folly. For no matter how silly it was to reject ten guys in Malate - only to be rejected by one elsewhere, the concluding twist makes you somehow think.

But this is how things work when you play.

This, my friends is the irony of hook-ups.

Saturday, March 13, 2010


After Joel McVie

Back in the days when very few pinoy gay bloggers write in cyberspace, he was already a torch bearer inspiring others to put up their blogs. His presence already graced the scene when I decided to connect beyond the tropa. His blog was one of my first links, and under the cover of anonymity, I consumed his stories and learned many things about my sexual preference. I remember his entries about his dad, and how he learned to accept his April Fool's passing; I knew his struggles as a theater actor and how it shaped his sexuality; I learned life before cyber hook-ups and how Circle became a cruising ground; Finally, his bathhouse escapades became my comparison when I decided to explore its promiscuous corridors.

In the blogs, McVie and I expressed our fondness for Malate and ThirdSexintheCity. Those were the early threads that got us connected. Malate was already a place of refuge, and to learn of a fellow blogger who's also into clubbing felt like having an extended party when my cabal left. As for ThirdSexintheCity, Badinggerzie was the other voice inside my head. I don't know how the author profoundly affected McVie, but much of the lingo I speak now comes from Melch.

McVie and I first met at our usual dancing ground. He was at BED at the time I decided to go party. In those days, going solo was very tempting. I had a partner but my relationship was turning sour. Desperate for company, I searched for a familiar face. Recognizing McVie through his avatar, I approached him without second thought. I'm one of the first to quip the line, "Are you McVie the blogger?" which he nodded affirmatively. That was before his fame became interstellar. Though our first meeting was purely accidental, the encounter cemented our friendship which would grow as time passed.

He would have another calling when gay blogs experienced a sudden bloom. Respected and admired for his wisdom, he became a pillar of what would become the Fabcasters. I know little about their beginnings except for the audio Fabcast, which I heard nothing due to my dial-up connection. But the house parties I attended was the reason I got acquainted with bloggers I haven't read before.

Much has changed at the onset of New Year. I heard less and less from the Fabcasters, while readers who once followed them have now established their own cliques. These were based from my observation. Distance shrouds my new blog and I have shied away from the scene. Nevertheless as someone who had to delete an old life just to hide from a past, and not tell everyone of my sudden exodus,

There is no denial, some connections were carelessly severed.

"Happy Birthday Joel!"

"Oh you're here!! Thank you!" An exchange of hugs reaffirmed our bonds.

"I know you will be coming and I'd like to personally greet you on your birthday!"

No words have ever escaped beyond the enclosed chambers of my cyberspace. While well-wishes from friends and fans came left and right - in Twitter and the Mcvie Show, I was too busy performing my ceaseless self-immolation. McVie and I have divergent views, and in some cases these differences lead to an exchange of opinions in comment boxes. Perhaps this is the reason why our official connection can be best described as subterranean. Yet I recognize him as a figurehead: a shining beacon guiding new generations toward becoming a proud gay man. Looking at how he shaped my past - in ways I only get to realize now - his contribution as a person, a blogger and a Fabcaster, may have been overlooked. Much of my presence in the gay circles is attributed to him. And in a time when many bloggers are leaving their spaces and cease sharing their stories, those of us remaining must ensure our collective voices remain heard.

It's time to renew old bonds.

The night-out went through after a brief stop-over at work. Deciding to round up my scorpions, I chose not to go solo. Sources tell of bloggers converging at BED. In order to distract myself - much as to focus my attention on gaining friends, I showed up unsure if people would welcome my presence.

His friends were all too gracious to have me around.

It's been a year after seeing Tristan. As we all know, he is based abroad and is now living a very fabulous life. Carrie, a long-time reader was there. His warm and gentle nature runs opposite to the sleazy themes he often writes in his blog. Londonboy, a blogger I've already known in the past was also present. No words of appreciation could fill my gratitude after expressing his concern when I appeared exhausted.

The night wore on and people were having a blast. We huddled and dance together in a corner, amidst my temptation to hunt alone. Habits prevailed eventually - and those who have seen me first had a good picture of what I write in blog. I mounted the ledge and danced with a partner - who turns out as someone I abandoned the last time I was in BED.

"Ang dumi-dumi mo talaga," Tristan bantered after returning to the group.

"Wala pa yan sa kaya kong gawin!" I replied while trading glances with someone I'd love to flirt.

The party was extended until early morning when Kane and his clique invited us at O-Bar. Those from our side, especially Tristan and McVie had a taste of how wild people could get in my home turf. There, I found a twink partner who subtly hinted his attraction. He would dance close and put his hands around my waist. However, he would never make his possession clear.

A lover or a client must be watching.


Citizens of Malate know to exercise restraint when going to BED. I don't know much about the place nowadays - except that it's big, it's less crowded and it plays less upbeat house music. But its notoriety for being pretentious is well-known. I've seen guys looking at me from hair to shoes before setting their sights at another person. I too followed their lead and sometimes even exported the habit elsewhere. At O however, most rules get bended. As a result, the merrymakers we brought were more open to express their feelings. One shouted "Bottom ako!" "Bottom ako!!" after telling him the presence of more tops from bottoms at the bar.

Two bloggers made-out in the dark.

Daybreak came and people started leaving. McVie and his gang decided to call it a night, while I chose to linger enough to play a little longer. Meanwhile, Kane made friends with a couple of hot guys I'd dare not approach. His boldness now cemented in my consciousness, I'd never contest the dance-floor from him again.

A blackout abruptly cut the party at half past four. Must be the power shortage happening across the country. People left the bars in droves, while I remain too stunned to even go home. A hunky masseur offered his services while having a smoke at the corner of Orosa. I declined. Power was restored shortly before five. I saw Kane flirting with a semikal basketball player who's a regular attraction at O, while Mister E, wasted and on the verge of passing out before the lights went off, was nowhere in sight.

That's when exhaustion came in.

Walking towards Silya, I saw McVie, Carrie and the rest having their breakfast. I stayed for a few minutes and listened to Tristan sharing his adventures in DC.

"Are you kidding me?" He said while recounting an encounter with a black guy.

"What's the problem?" The black guy asked.

"Well, I have to get an operation should you insert that thing." He was referring to his sex partner's "parang braso ng bata" wiener.

I would love to stay longer and listen to Tristan's naughty tales. But its way past bedtime and I need to get some rest. Bidding the group goodbye, I hailed a cab and directed the driver home.

Friday, March 12, 2010

The Ubos-Lakas Strategy

Regulating one's urges is never easy, especially when you have lots of energy to spare. However, I learned that there's a way to route the scorpions and it involves beating the master the moment it get's stiffy:


The return of the scorpions was announced. Took out MIRc to cut my online sources of temptation. Five Rounds.


Busy with re-training the agents the entire day. Heavy work out left the body fatigued. Zero.


Discovered a PinoyM2M video website. Mistakenly thought Serendra Boy was up for a spar. Four Rounds.


Still recovering from yesterday's naPALM bombing, the master hardly responds to stimulus. Must be a sign of getting old. Or the Scorpions were not as strong as I thought they were. Funny, I'm writing about some very private details that should be kept under wraps. But here I am, confessing my perversion.

It's a Friday and I committed myself to go on the graveyard shift just to look after Princess' work. It's not really an official business but an excuse to go out on a good night.

A good party night.

I try not to put expectations. But it will be a battle between urges and self-control should I push through with my plans. Let's see what happens when daybreak comes.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Serendra Boy

For until we decide to break free,
we will always be chasing someone else's dream.

A chat conversation:

[14:37] serendraboy: musta?
[14:38] souljacker: ayos lang
[14:38] souljacker: heto mag isa sa office
[14:38] souljacker: kamusta ka tol?
[14:38] serendraboy: o naman. bat mag isa ka dyan?
[14:38] serendraboy: ok
[14:39] souljacker: na late ako ng pasok kanina eh
[14:39] souljacker: hehehe
[14:39] souljacker: nasa valenzuela ka niyan?
[14:39] serendraboy: dito ako sa taguig
[14:39] souljacker: ah!
[14:40] souljacker: balita?
[14:40] serendraboy: wala naman gaano
[14:40] serendraboy: mejo busy ng kaunti
[14:40] serendraboy: kaw?
[14:40] souljacker: ayos lang
[14:40] souljacker: yung dati kong barkada sa office
[14:40] souljacker: ni train ko kanina
[14:40] souljacker: kamusta naman ate mo?
[14:42] serendraboy: ok naman
[14:42] serendraboy: musta work?
[14:42] souljacker: bored
[14:42] souljacker: chillax chillax lang
[14:42] souljacker: bakit mo natanong?
[14:42] souljacker: hehehehe
[14:43] serendraboy: wala lang
[14:44] souljacker: :)
[14:44] souljacker: napanood mo na yung alice in wonderland?
[14:44] serendraboy: di pa. nood kami mamya ng kapatid ko
[14:44] serendraboy: napanood mo na?
[14:45] souljacker: hindi pa nga eh
[14:45] souljacker: walang kasama
[14:45] serendraboy: sama mo mommy mo
[14:45] souljacker: honga no
[14:45] souljacker: great idea!
[14:45] souljacker: bahala na, nanghihinayan ako sa gastos eh
[14:45] souljacker: lol
[14:47] souljacker: ingay ingay dun sa AP Workout Thread
[14:48] serendraboy: hehehe.. heto nga binabasa ko eh.
[14:48] serendraboy: heheh
[14:48] souljacker: hehehe
[14:48] souljacker: hindi ako sasama dun sa GEB na pinopropose nung isa
[14:48] souljacker: kung alam ko lang, pormahan lang yun
[14:49] serendraboy: hahahha. yun naman talaga objective
[14:50] souljacker: depends...
[14:50] souljacker: maganda katawan mo
[14:50] souljacker: puputaktihin ka talaga
[14:50] serendraboy: hahahha
[14:51] serendraboy: pag marami kaseng masyado, mas nakakailang
[14:51] souljacker: yup
[14:51] souljacker: have you met someone new from pex?
[14:52] serendraboy: wala
[14:52] serendraboy: enjoy lang akong magbasa
[14:52] souljacker: hehehe
[14:52] serendraboy: pag nagka free time
[14:52] souljacker: sa AP naman
[14:53] souljacker: met someone
[14:53] serendraboy: kaw?
[14:53] souljacker: tapos
[14:53] souljacker: tinuruan ko lang mag work out.
[14:53] souljacker: so yun.
[14:53] serendraboy: hahaha
[14:53] souljacker: bakit ka tumawa?
[14:53] serendraboy: ok naman? ?
[14:53] serendraboy: mabait?
[14:53] souljacker: mabait kung sa mabait
[14:53] souljacker: pero yung intentions eh...
[14:53] souljacker: :)
[14:53] serendraboy: hahahah
[14:54] souljacker: malinaw naman ang usapan
[14:54] souljacker: no hanky panky.
[14:54] souljacker: so yun. sana may natutunan.
[14:54] souljacker: kasi nilibre niya ako ng entrance sa FF
[14:55] serendraboy: ah ok.
[14:55] serendraboy: natuto naman?
[14:55] souljacker: di ko sure
[14:55] souljacker: sabi niya mabigat yung free weights eh
[14:57] souljacker: tingnan mo to
[14:57] souljacker:
[14:57] serendraboy: ano to?
[14:57] souljacker: haha buksan mo
[15:00] serendraboy: hehehe
[15:00] souljacker: lahat na lang
[15:00] souljacker: pinagdedebatehan kung tunay na lalaki o hindi
[15:00] souljacker: yung isa sa mga authors niyan classmate ko sa masters
[15:08] serendraboy: sige. offline na ako... alis lang ako
[15:08] serendraboy: ingat na lang
[15:08] souljacker: ingat ka [name of serendra boy]
[15:08] souljacker: babay

Minsan hindi ko alam kung bakit lagi niya akong kinakamusta.
Pero hindi naman niya ako kinukwentuhan.
Hindi ko rin alam kung bakit nag-eeffort akong mag-reach out
Samantalang hindi naman malinaw ang gusto kong mangyari.

Nakakaasar yung ganitong pakiramdam.
Pero kung iisipin ko kung paano ako magrestrain ng sarili,
at mang-iwan, matapos magpagamit at gamitin ang ka-trip,
Nakakamiss rin pala

Ang magkalihim na pagtingin sa iba.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Sisters Of The Sun

After J. Aquino

Our beginnings have long been buried under piles of rubble. Memories, almost forgotten, if not for some occasional flickers of light where our souls get to meet. Distance resonates our present, and if not for that single thread binding us both, our former lives would remain a legend. But behind the veil of time; of the passing age dividing our paths, I remain faithful to the days when we used to call ourselves sisters of the sun.

He was, as I recall, a rebellious sentience. He packs an attitude which caught the attention of our surrogate mother. Long before he was noticed, I became witness to the fierceness he now exudes. It was a Lenten afternoon many eons ago. While the pious ones remember how the almighty suffered, there we were, in a garage somewhere in Provident, passing the shot glass brimming with spirits.

I remember the moment he became upset when his father joined the merriment. He was new to the company then, and his true colors were still unknown to me. I do not remember the reason for his disappointment, nor the sharp words he threw at his father. What echoes inside my head were the two drunken people raising tension within our loose circle.

Many months have passed and I found myself entangled in a love affair at work. It was a wrong decision to give in and I paid the price with heavy suffering. The guy was a friend who got drunk and initiated the deed. We ended up in a motel. I was simply too giving to turn down his wish to get laid.

As I winced in pain - for a heart shattered into pieces - he suddenly appeared to mourn for my tragedy. His lanky frame served as my armor, and his refined features became a face to my rugged details. As I recovered my strength, he stayed and kept me company. In all my years of exploring, never did I imagine bringing a colleague to Malate.

But I did.

The memory of that one rainy midnight remains fresh, when he appeared in front of the house dressed up and ready to party. We sneaked out and cemented our friendship amongst the gay crowd showing up for the White Party. It was a night to remember, for it paved the way to learn things about each other. The morning after, we headed straight for work. Our bodies might be weary, but an alliance has been formed.

Years have passed and our pact brought down those who once bullied us. Our surrogate was the queen and so we were shielded against all offensive. Our chemistry worked wonders. He was my alter-ego, I was his brute force. We were both creative in our field - him being a painter, and I, a self-proclaimed writer. We had our differences, but it never kept us from performing well. We were a double-team in the account. We brought glory to the company.

A lifetime has gone by. He worked in call centers only to leave his jobs after a year of slaving. He never grew tired of searching: a place he could call his own. While I remained tucked in my little realm, waiting for the brown fields to turn green. Eventually, ascension finally caught up and in the weeks I sought my place, his longing to find his way back had born fruits.

A reunion took place two days ago.

A daughter returns.

Mami Athena and the boss welcomed our princess with open arms. Personally guided and mentored by me, he will start his re-training tomorrow.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Return Of The Scorpions

Must be the scorching heat making temperatures rise. The frisky skin aches for contact to scratch its carnal itch. Nerve endings hunger for sensation - a sting - a hard matter - a good pounding - to fill its lustful appetite. The oppressive hold weakens, the body wills itself to go to war.

It's been two months since this longing last appeared. The chilly December encounter has suppressed the need long enough for starvation to build up. We thought mind control would take effect, but human nature prevails. All we can do is poison the senses with fear and reason believing it would be swayed to listen.

Injecting anti-libido video footage. Remember the sexcapades. Altarian maneuver commencing.

Altarian maneuver successful. The urges retreat.

Sir. The scorpions are still on the rebound.

Let's repeat the process.

But how long must it have to be this way? Why do we resist when it is one of the essences of living? Lust is too short to be suppressed and to eradicate sensation would be too impossible to achieve. Yet, how do we reason when the need has been filled? How do we kowtow to the fear when psychosomatic recollections begin invading? How do we live through the haunting, the guilt and the regret long enough for a new cycle to begin? How do we compromise when we know what our long-term searching means?

The MIRc has been re-activated amidst inner protestations. The online skirmishes are now in full swing. Sources tell of near misses - spared only by some timely and forceful ejaculations to call off the deed. The virtual incursions might be thwarted but the earthen lines will never be fully defended. Its just a matter of time before our urges win.

Who are we to resist a good slayer when we secretly desire to be mauled?

And the scorpions have returned. Their intensity, stronger this time around.

We hope that our willingness to resist remains unwavering. There is much at stake in being pounded and to give it up - senselessly - would be a hard pill to swallow.

But behind the wish to endure is the truth that we would soon have to surrender. The signs are there, blown out of proportion by our boldness to engage a target. It is just a matter of giving up for the right reason

and the right person.

There's no point in denying, the body already burns.

The days are counting and we ponder. Would the blood-letting and the laceration worth the trouble, or would it be an awfully waste of resources when the time of engagement comes?

Monday, March 8, 2010

Sun Lounge

My back reclines against the soft cushion until my head slowly rests on the pillow. Rubbing my cheeks on the smooth surface, I could stay glued on my seat until the searing heat gives way to the soothing late afternoon breeze. A few sips of the organic tea and my attention turns toward the red couch beside me. It looks exactly the same as mine, except it is occupied by a fair, long-haired lady with sunglasses shading half her face. This pretty young lady appears drowned in thoughts while reading a paperback novel. On her wooden coffee table lies a half-empty frozen blueberry yogurt in a cardboard bowl. Tucked between her flimsy leg and the linen fabric is a handbag whose leather strap peeks just above the armrest. Her regal aura hints of an opulent life. She must be a denizen of that upscale place.

The red couch sits on a sundeck high above the mall. It has a commanding view of the green oasis, whose verdant canopies and graceful palm trees filter the sunlight beaming down to the cafes below. The deck is a favorite corner among the customers of the adjacent frozen yogurt place. Its not surprising for someone to wait forever before the previous occupants of the couches to leave.

And on the first time of learning this place, I was lucky. I chanced upon my spot just when its former holders were about to pack up.

The hours sail away while I lounge on the couch. It was one of those strange weekends where I get to eat free food outside the house. Mom was invited for lunch at Banana Leaf Restaurant. An old friend has just arrived from abroad: A reunion was in order. Needing a companion, I tagged along and indulged my eclectic taste for fusion Indian cuisine. After the meals were served and the bill paid, they went to a coffee shop to swap more stories. I was invited to join but I prefer my mom to have a private time with her friends.

So I decided to go solo.

The azure sky scans the horizon for any signs of the clouds, while the occasional cool wind hums as it blows over my skin. Plugging my earphones to hear French Cafe music pipe into my ears, I glanced upon the beautiful people around me, while the office blocks and high-end lofts haughtily peek from a distance.

Deviens ce que tu es.

With a few moments left before I am asked to return to the coffee shop below, I put on my shades and submerged myself in sheer ecstasy, deeper into the cushion.

*you become what you are.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

The Craft

There are some things you cannot force yourself to do. One is to squeeze your creative juices and stir them towards putting the right words for a spark of an idea. Readers may find it pathetic, but I've been sitting on my chair the whole evening just to complete a paragraph. Facing the flat screen monitor, my eyes and skin absorb all the radiation from the computer but I remain lost for words. Two unscheduled brownouts have passed, I dozed off for almost an hour, I played with myself, I switched blog subjects twice, I read the works of others, but my train of thoughts remain stale. It's like my muse would never give in.

Unless I give in to what my muse wants to write.

Sometimes I wonder the need to indulge myself in this craft. Why do I have to engage myself in an artform devoid of a stake. I find this addiction capricious, time consuming, and worse of all, a one way engagement. I don't get anything from it.

Save for an expression.

They say artists are often misunderstood. I don't claim my writings as a work of art and I never saw myself as an artist. I'm just a person aching to put into form the abstractions piling up in his head. I don't have the passion for books nor the obsession for authors. My only claim to fame is my hidden desire for words. It's been four hours and counting and my muse appears bent on ranting about its own whimsical leanings. My mind is tired of thinking - how to etch images in letters. And so to satiate my cravings to weave sentences that would construct paragraphs; to appease myself by producing something - even if such is as senseless - as whining; to finally let go of this obsession to write about anything other than a lousy Tweet.

I decide to give up. My muse wins.

And this is the entry s/he has chosen to publish.

Sometimes, it would take an hour to finish an entry like this.
But the steady flow of words allowed me to complete this entry in just thirty minutes.

Friday, March 5, 2010

A Look Into Pre-History

Or it might also be a peek into the future.

"Yes, the gay bar seems to be a dwindling institution, but it is not going to die for as long as there are gay folks around. E ika nga nila, bakit ang mga bading hindi naman nanganganak pero dumarami. Iyan ang oversight ng mga gay bar owners. Akala nila porke may mga bakla sa lipunan, pagkakakitaan nila; tulad na nga ng nabanggit sa post, pricey ang mga drinks, masyado aggressive ang mga dancers o hosto, marumi ang toilet, masyadong intrimitida ang mga managers (tipo bang gusto mong sigawan na, "Leave me alone!"), etc. I've been going to gay bars since heaven knows when, mula pa sa tabi ng Besa boxing arena (Metropolitan theater) sa Liwasang Bonifacio, hanggang sa tabi ng Paco Park, sa "apartment" na malapit sa Espana near UST, and of course, the "institution" 690, hanggang sa Adonis, Gigolo, Mr. World, etc. Walang naiba, nag-deteriorate pa. Marami sa Timog ngayon pero ganun pa rin. Kulang sa marketing savvy ang mga bagong gb operators. Yes, I'm nearing my 70s kaya I cannot be one of those who go to Malate and Ermita for fun. Friends give me referrals for my usual fix. And that's how I get by. They go to my loft where guards dutifully note down the "traffic" of visitors which I indirectly tell my guests lest they are tempted to do unpalatable things (sila rito ang "guests" hahaha!). Syempre, sa edad kong ito, my gay friends are equally tired of going out in groups and have an adventurous night. Don't get me wrong. Life is still a party. Recently, I just attended a private party, literally, where you see those bikini competitions kuno and have a ball. Donate ka lang sa party expenses and "talent fees" sa "contestants." But more on that. Masyadong mahaba na ito."

anonymous reader

Thursday, March 4, 2010

False Advertising

Tired of competing against other Pinoyexchange members posting their naked, headless avatars, I decided to replace mine with a stolen picture from another forum. The tambayan was the AP Fitness and Workout Thread. It's the place where gym bunnies converge and discuss their fitness activities. The regular thread posters would mostly share their knowledge about workout. They would post their gym program and excerpts taken from fitness websites addressing issues ranging from nutrition to supplements. To give credence to the one parting advice, members would resort to enhancing their avatars with pictures showing a muscular part of their body.

As conventional gay wisdom tells, any picture of a naked muscular guy will attract attention. No wonder, the thread is one of the most viewed pages in the Alternative Preference Sub-forum. My guess is that after half of the active members decided to take off their clothes to show their nakedness, the readers came in droves. I used to love getting naked in my avatar before. However, when the slimmer ones started joining the discussion, I felt ashamed using my shirtless photo. Finding no match against members with toned bodies, I decided to dress up and stay in the sidelines.

I found peace in letting the hot ones hoard the spotlight. The guys who frequent the thread knew me and there's no point in rubbing my credibility. Occasionally, a drifter would post inquires about fitness and being the most experienced among the bunch, I would usually be the first to answer the questions.

The order of things would have remained static, if not for a new change of avatar that left some guys laughing.

Apparently, the guys could not imagine me fitting into the image of a classic porn star. Combine this with a previous testimonial exalting my gym in another thread:

And even I could not keep myself from bursting for what I did.

Its a good thing the Head Coach hasn't discovered my new avatar yet. How can I convince new members to sign up if the result of working out in Eclipse would make me look someone like Ron Jeremy.

To find out where I got Ron Jeremy's photo, click here.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010


Legend tells of Ravens being kept at the Tower of London. It is said that if the birds leave, the Kingdom and the Crown would crumble. And so ten Ravens are kept, housed and fed at the government's expense. They even have a personal attendant to make sure their needs are met. One cannot blame the English for extending such graciousness to the birds. Tradition holds sway over the heart of a nation never before conquered since its founding.

Same belief holds true in a house susceptible to strife among its members. For its companionship and comic relief, a house cat and a dog has been a mainstay at home.

The presence of these critters inside the house has been allowed since the no-pet policy was lifted more than a decade ago. The first dog - a direct descendant of the one we have at present - was a gift from my mom's personal manicurist. It was received by the driver after the manicurist's resident askal had given birth to several puppies. The female canine had brown coat. Its black nose was slightly short and it had pointed ears.

The first dog gave birth to several batches of puppies - all of them were handed over to aspiring owners wanting a pet of their own. Years went by and the first dog has grown old. We then realized the need to preserve her heritage. Our decision to keep one of her offspring the last time she got pregnant was very timely. For in less than a year after raising her puppy, the first dog passed away.


The story of cats kept inside the house was as fleeting as their stay in the family; for we have a habit of throwing them away once our patience runs out in tolerating their habits. Most cats we had were picked off from the streets. They were cleaned, fed and later adopted. I remember a time when I pulled a kitten from a trash bin just when a storm was about to pass above the city. That cat grew to become a vegetarian only to dump his shit around the house. As the cat tried to put our patience beyond its limit, we decided to throw him away. It would take a long time before I could convince my mother to adopt another cat from an ex-colleague who runs a pet store.

This new cat was a half-Persian breed. We were told to handle it delicately. The cat had an attitude and was spoiled by its previous owner. It took almost a year before she became accustomed to our presence. After she had given birth to its first kittens, the Persian half-breed learned to steal food from the table. She also began defecating inside the house. Soon, the decision became clear. The cat had to leave but her kitten was allowed to stay and take her place. It was our hope that she would undo the mistake of her mother and change our perception of the bratty felines.

The resident dog and the kitten have learned to live in harmony. Its like no inter-species animosity was ever ingrained in their instincts. They rose above their stereotypes and taught us a great deal about co-existence. The neighbors were impressed that we're able to keep two rival animals under one roof. Except when competing for food, the dog doesn't mind the cat's business.

The presence of a dog and a cat has made our lives a little less stressful. The dog would sense the arrival of the family car and it would bark and jump and chase the vehicle until it stops right in front of the doorway. The dog knows the master of the house is aboard and would love to be the first to greet her arrival. Meanwhile, the cat sits nearby and lets the dog hoard the attention.

When the dog needs affection, it would wag its tail or press its nose against a body part. It learned to mimic what the cat does to get what she wants. Sometimes the dog would also use her paw to poke us or even jump at a person when she gets really excited. Her expressiveness runs in contrast to the ever secretive cat who would call our attention only when she's hungry. Nevertheless, it was the cat who meows all the time and would visit the rooms in search for a mouse to catch.

So far, she hasn't left her nauseating droppings inside the house.


In all the years we kept animal companions, it never crossed my mind to pay extra attention to their needs. We fed them whatever leftovers we had. We let them roam and explore as far as they want. Sometimes we would even let the dog drag the garbage in front of the house and just clean it when the maid decides so. I have never given the dog a bath or wipe the shit dumped by the cat.

It was always the helpers' job.

But these past few months, I noticed how the pets depended on us for food. When there were no meals to spare, they were forced to steal from the neighbors' table or search the trash for any morsel they could snatch. They have learned to beg especially when one is eating on the table. They would patiently wait, until a slab of meat or vegetable was intentionally dropped for the dog and the cat to fight over.

Such things made me think about ourselves and how we treat those bringing relief when life was too hard for us to bear.

So a decision was made. The pets deserve a break.

Burrowed beneath a high-rise building is the new Arranque Market. It is the place to go when buying pet breeds or exotic animals at very low prices. It is also the place where fowls and birds of many species were sold in cages too small; one would think their treatment as inhuman. Arranque was my destination. It was where I got the pellets that would become the staple of the pets' new diet.

Despite being short on cash, I was able to buy dog and cat feeds for 200 Pesos. The lady who runs the store said the feeds could last a month. Arriving home, the first thing I did was to introduce the new diet to the critters. They were well received with the dog frantically begging for more.

The pellets diet is just one of the steps I am planning to introduce to improve the well-being of our pets. The kitten that was up for adoption hasn't been delivered yet to BackintheCloset, but I will find time. In a sense, this move to address the pets' needs is just but a small step towards greater involvement in the affairs of the home.

I arrived home late one morning after coming from a party. The dog was waiting at the driveway and was eager to get inside the house. Unlocking the door, I found the cat licking her coat near the staircase. She merely uttered "meow" before following me to the kitchen. With my head swirling and my stomach threatening to throw out its contents, I was regretful for letting myself get intoxicated. Turning on the stove to heat some water, I planned to take a bath to get the alcohol off my head. Minutes passed as I lied down the sofa and waited for the water to boil. No human presence has ever greeted me since my arrival as I avoided getting caught going home drunk. Everything was peaceful, and despite in a state between being sober and getting more wasted, I remember picking up the cat and placing her on my stomach, while the dog watches patiently not far from the sofa. Both animals stayed until I could finally find the strength to get up and move on.