Planetship

amidst the cosmic stillness
lies a sentience sailing the
ocean of stars.

it quietly passes
from planet to planet
leaving no trace behind

and after slicing through
the fabric of space for as long
as it remembers,

the machine realizes
it shall call no world home
save for its hollow, encrusted
yet comforting shell.

eve-online

NoyNoy

Sometime a year ago, I would have never seen myself getting involved in the then upcoming elections. I was unregistered to begin with. Senator Mar Roxas' waning influence (for he was full of blabber) had already vaporized my interest. Manny Villar was so full of air, he will never be a leader to me. And with GMA doing everything Machiavellian to cling to power, the choice was nothing. I was ready to leave to the hands of fate the future of the country.

Then came the passing of a great leader.

Her death sparked the candle that would light a people in the dark. Immediately, calls for her son to run for President was heard across the land. At first, I was a non-believer. I cannot understand why my favorite columnist, Conrado De Quiros would advocate such move. Was it because his recently deceased mother had awakened a sleeping nation and people will see her in him? Was it because the eloquent writer saw the incarnation of Edsa during her day-long funeral? Was it because the choice was nothing save for embracing once again the spirit of 1986?

The world held its breath - for a month - and then came the answer.

Senator Mar Roxas had announced that he would step down for the late president's son to take his place. The younger Aquino accepted his fate after several days of quiet contemplation. The path towards the presidency was beginning to take shape, and yet there I was, still undecided whether to vote or withhold my right to suffrage for another time.

Then came Risa Hontiveros announcement of her intention to run for Senator. Her chosen allegiance: the political party of the late president's son. I knew immediately who to side with. I knew what to do. Coming from Meyor's wake in Fairview, I sacrificed a few hour's worth of sleep to fill out the voter's form and submit it to Comelec.

I kept an eye on the affairs of the republic from a distance. I neither commented nor expressed my full desire to vote for a preferred president within earshot of others. Hints were dropped, occasionally, just to let those who can read understand my sympathies. I knew people would question once they found out who my real candidate was.

Shunning myself from the televised debates kept me from getting distracted. I stuck with Inquirer and the Kapamilya Network, two media giants whose president preference were obviously biased. The boss was the number one campaigner at work, and despite the economic woes we faced last summer, uniting under a single candidate was our secret relief. Mom had always been one with the civic leaders. I was her escort whenever she met them for social functions. You get to hear things running down the grapevine, at the very least, news were favorable to my candidate.

-

Votes were cast after a day-long grueling journey to fill out my ballot. The surveys were right, my candidate was bound to win. Fifteen Million souls, all placing their hopes and dreams to a single man made the difference. Not even Erap could conjure the legend this time.

And as the country prepares to witness his becoming tomorrow, one last look at the past is all it takes to realize the roles we play. All it takes is a single event. A reason for change. A revolution encompassing all humanity to be fought. And a transformation will happen. Who would have thought the "Abnoy" would become the President: That he would be trusted with the most sacred duty to bring a dying land back to life?

Things will remain still, and the affairs of the state will be varied and sundry. GMA will still roam free six years from now. Unloved and unforgotten, history will show her kindness many years after her bones have turned to dust. Teodoro, Hontiveros, Roxas and Madrigal will be elected Senators. They will all join the circus bringing insanity in the legislature into new heights. As for Noynoy, I see him accomplishing little during his term, but he will be loved like his parents are. Accomplishing little will never be an issue, not even a footnote in the grand scheme of things.

What he will bestow to a grateful country is a sense of belonging: an undeniable feeling of pride among its citizens.

Because after nine years, we are a nation again.

To Show One's Teeth

The lesbian driver and the maid had a royal rumble. I tried downplaying the match believing it would fizz out like the other conflicts they had. It all started with a harmless joke. The maid said she would go to church later in the evening to which the driver replied,

"Simba ka ng simba, hindi naman nagbabago ang ugali mo."

Her comment threw the maid in a fit of rage and for the rest of the afternoon, I tried cooling heads off. I witnessed the maid tore pieces of paper from a calendar just to spite the driver. I also saw her slump on the floor and cry like a little girl. Her acts turned me off - considering she's my favorite. But after what she did much, much later, I think relationships at home will change drastically.

It all began shortly before leaving the house. I was still in a candid mood - telling both parties to refrain from fighting until I get back. Eh putangina, pasaway yung dalawa. Just when I was about to cross the street to walk towards the gym, utol sent a text message.

"Kuya nag-aaway pa rin yung dalawa. Galit na si Mama."

Still in my calm and composed self, I called my mom to check what happened. Her voice cracked with anger so I decided to return home. It was my turn to raise hell to such heights nobody has ever seen when I arrived. With my legs stretched out in the sofa, a cigarette on my fingers and a booming voice that could be heard across the compound, I began the verbal assaults by telling them about my instruction.

"Diba sabi ko walang magwalala habang nasa labas ako ng bahay!?!" The two warring parties were stunned. They knew I was really, really angry.

In between throwing expletives and minced words, I told them the single reason why violent fighting inside the house is strictly forbidden.

"Hindi niyo ba napapansin na kapag magkaaway kami ni [name of the utol] eh umaalis ako ng bahay?!? Hindi niyo ba maintindihan na kaya hindi kami nagbabalibagan eh dahil pag nagkakagulo sa bahay eh iniisip naming baka atakihin sa puso yung nasa taas?!?!"

I was referring to my mother.

I tried my best to be careful with my words. I feared that someone might pack her stuff and leave the house for good. That of course, would pose another problem. But at the back of my head, the maid and the lesbian driver must be taught a very good lesson.

That we could tolerate insolence only to a certain degree.

I told them that it is not my nature to bare my fangs. I have been known to be meek and considerate to others. I try to avoid hostile confrontations and even go to great lengths to mediate warring parties. But what people don't know is that once I get offended; once I get disappointed, and once someone fucks me up big time that I become confrontational myself, I drop people without looking back at our pinagsamahan.

Right now I am trying to overlook the whole drama and pretend that my attack was against their behavior. The Lesbian Driver was off the hook, for what triggered the second match was the maid's decision to throw the driver's clothes out of their room. As for the kasambahay, I'd keep some distance from now on to show how much she fell out of favor. That means I will have to refrain from asking her to cook my favorite meal and rely on myself for many things I usually ask her to do for me.

No more senorito Mugen from now on. Hahaha!



---

It was already past midnight and the maid hasn't returned. She said she would go to the supermarket to buy some bread. Mom allowed her to leave believing it would restore order at home. She also thought getting some fresh air would knock some sense out of her. I knew the consequence of my intervention, and my display of shock and awe was justified. Should she decide not to come back, we will not resent her absence too much.

At the end of the day, professionalism must still be uphold for they are getting paid to run the household.

Orphan

However, Nanay Bining's life is not all bright and sunshiny. Left with an aging daughter who has no family of her own, they stay in the smallest apartment in the compound where I live. Supported by a relative who works abroad, their monthly provisions go to the dialysis treatment of her daughter. The house they occupy is a world forgotten in time. Decrypt and almost in a state of disrepair, a whiff of staleness and longing for the older days assaulted my senses the last time I went there. The living room serves as Nanay Bining's bedroom, her kitchen is perpetually dark and dusty and God knows what lurks in the rooms upstairs.




Nanay Bining
Fullmetal Dreams
September 13, 2008




It is said that it is more difficult for a parent to lose a child than for a child to lose a parent. A child can move on with her life but a parent, in the prime of her age, will have to think about living without someone to watch over her side. Such fears begin to cloud my thoughts now that I'm just a few monsoon cycles away from turning thirty. How much more for someone, whose sole reason for living has now been gone.

News broke out the other day that Nanay Bining's ailing daughter has passed away. For those of you who still remember, Nanay Bining is the old lady who lives in an apartment a few houses away from ours. She has always been active in our community, often seen with the regal (and crouched) matriarchs lurching towards a Mah jong party in the neighborhood. Her flowery dusters and bright colored umbrellas are her signature get-up. She is the face of grace confronting life's burdens and her presence has always been a comfort assuring everyone that there is life beyond the age of seventy.

The news of her daughter's passing adds a whole new level of gloominess in the home front after the revelry of last week. An uncle's father also passed away this week leaving his sons, daughters and grandchildren - not to mention his wife - to accompany his earthly remains to the grave. Nanay Bining will have to walk alone (perhaps with a handful of neighbors going to the public cemetery) but with no money, immediate relatives or government assistance to keep her in the coming weeks, I wish not to think of her future.

I attended the wake of Nanay Bining's daughter to show our family's sympathies to the old lady. She was visibly weak after sleepless nights of mourning and attending to her daughter's funeral the next day. She was surrounded by matriarchs who stood by her side all these years. When she saw me arriving at the chapel, she stood up from the pew, raised her frail arms high enough to hold my face and kissed my cheeks like I was one of her children.

After guiding Nanay Bining back to her seat, I went to see her daughter's remains inside the coffin. The contours of her skull break through the thin layer of skin. Her stick-like arms and limbs revealed the years left behind by failing kidneys that withered her in life.

"At least she is at peace," I said quietly.

My visit lasted for less than an hour. I could not stand the truth of life glaring in front of me. I held Nanay Bining's hand the whole time I was at the wake. Comforting her while keeping an emotional distance was my way of holding back my own worries.

Who would look after her? How will she get through in life?

At that moment, all I could wish for is having extra money to support her.

She held my hand close to her face, while tears welled her eyes. The old lady next to her said she hasn't eaten for days, while the matriarch behind (who was an ex-baranggay chairperson) preoccupied herself with accounting the district councilors who sent their condolences to the old lady.

A representative from a Congressman showed up. She handed over an envelope containing some cash. When Nanay Bining counted the money, it amounted to three hundred pesos only. Cheapskate. The priest finally arrived for the special mass prepared for the deceased. Fearing that I will never arrive in time for work should I stay behind, I loosened my grip while the old lady was busy recounting to the newcomers the tragic events leading to her daughter's last breath. One last look at Nanay Bining's face, now drowned with painful memories of her beloved, I severed the remnants of empathy to say goodbye.

"Mauna na po ako Nanay," I said while slipping a crisp P500 bill on her wrinkled hand.

"Salamat sa pagbisita..."

Walking away, I remembered her friend's comforting words earlier as Nanay Bining pressed her face against the back of my hand.

"At least handang handa ang anak mong humarap sa kanya." Her friend said.

"Siya na ang bahala sa akin." Nanay Bining replied.



"You will meet again." I told myself before stepping out of the chapel without looking back.

Remembering Kaibigang Oso

Kung hindi lang ako taken noon,
mahuhulog talaga ang loob ko sa iyo.

Nasaan ka man, parekoy,
dalangin ko ang iyong kasiyahan.





November 3, 2007
Kaibigang Oso
Fullmetal Dreams



It was late afternoon of last year. The sun's rays bounced from one of the older buildings that line the stretch of Quezon Avenue. The dance of light and shadow created a surreal image that led my thoughts to wander. It was a long day, and I was heading back home to take my well-deserved rest.

I was inside an FX, seated just behind the driver. Since there was no music playing on the speakers, the tracks from my mp3 player piped music in my ears. As the FX smoothly made its way towards Espana, the alternative songs I hummed reminded me of how different I am from other guys. Instead of raving about Regine or Beyonce, I spoke of Our Lady Peace and Powderfinger. I haven’t met anyone who has the same taste when it comes to my music.

I might never meet one at all.

I gazed at the passing cars opposite our direction and wondered whether someone out there would one day sing to me a Goo Goo Dolls or Dishwalla song. I swear that the moment he does, I will kiss him and thank him for making me realize

I am not alone.



kaibigang oso says:
kakantahan na lang kita..

Mugen says:
sige kantahan mo ako

kaibigang oso says:
"wish i could be...every little thing you wanted.."

kaibigang oso says:
"all the time.."

kaibigang oso says:
"ohh!! wish i could be every little thing you wanted...you wanted...all the time.."

kaibigang oso says:
"dont give me up, dont give me up tonight.."

kaibigang oso says:
hehehe u know this for sure

Mugen says:
Fuck man!

Mugen says:
waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!

This morning, I was talking to a friend over MSN when he suddenly told me that he would sing a song to save me from boredom. Since our conversation went from being candid to naughty all morning, I thought he would just pick a cheesy song he just heard from the radio.

I never thought he would sing to me Every Little Thing.

He never finished the song, for I was sending him confusing and non-sense comments after figuring the title. He was asking about my reaction but all I could give was an incoherent reply.

The conversation eventually shifted elsewhere, but the song was retained in my head. I never thought he would actually fulfill my wish and what’s so sweet about it is that he never knew I kept a secret promise to myself.



kaibigang oso says:

alis ka na? Beso muna!!

I know we are friends and lessons remind me that I shouldn't cross lines. But if I would be very honest with what I feel,

Crush pa rin kita hanggang ngayon

I could actually give him more than what he asked.

Pussy Talk

The cat we keep has grown more dependent on me for food that it always comes out of her hiding place (and abandon her kittens until securing her kibbles) the moment she hears my voice. The puss in fact, has grown weary of other people at home that she never lets anyone touch her, stroke her fur or carry her around except if it was me. Even my mom doesn't have such privilege. Their last close encounter resulted in my mother hitting the pregnant cat with the first object she got hold of. The cat, according to her sprang from the window and jumped on her back. Caught by surprise, (for she was not just watching Agua Bendita on Kapamilya Network at that time, she was absorbing every dialogue spoken by the bida) the heavy thump made her scream while the cat (equally surprised, yet maintained a sense of grace) walked away as if her paws merely stepped on an inanimate object.

But it wasn't the case a year ago.

Desperate for food, the same cat would meow at anyone willing to throw her morsels of meat from the table. She was close to learning the art of sneaking around the sink when I realized our inhumane treatment of our house companions. Since getting her steady supply of dry cat food, the cat has become more secure of her place at home and instead, devoted her time annoying her master with her incessant meows, head rubbing and occasional harmless biting.

Johnny Cursive, in one of our drinking bouts said that it is the cat who owns its master and not the other way around. The idea he floated was not new to me. I first learned the feline's perception of humans while playing Sims2 before. In the simulation game, dogs, as pets, were portrayed more as the ever-loyal companion of its master. While cats on the other hand, maintain a certain degree of independence that it is often the human host who seeks attention from the snooty animal.

Following the example at home, our cat (which until now, has no identity because the maids call her "Muning" while my affectionate name for her is "Meowie") tries her best to maintain an image of self-reliance. But with the availability of food, which I source directly from Cartimar, the feline has no choice but to recognize her affiliation.

Driven by her need to survive, and motivated by my desire to care for the critters at home, our cat-human bond goes beyond her basic needs and in many solitary moments I find myself in, it is the cat who keeps me company when no one could.

Miss Meowie

Some helpful tips in understanding Cat Behavior:

• Cats can be extremely friendly companions. The strength of the cat-human bond usually depends on the human behavior: whether the human is always gentle and considerate, takes time for affection when the cat wants and knows when to stop when the cat grows tired of it, responds to the cat's needs and wants, and appreciates the cat. The formula for a successful relationship thus has much in common with human to human relationships.

• Some people regard cats as sneaky, shy, or aloof animals. Cats have an inherent distrust for predator species such as humans, and often seek to minimize any contact with people they do not perceive as trustworthy. Feline shyness and aggression around people with cat social skills is often a result of lack of socialization, abuse or neglect. Cats relate to humans differently than more social animals, enjoying some time on their own each day as well as time with humans.

In Communicating with Humans:

• Kneading with the paws on a person or, for example, a favorite blanket or sleeping spot shows contentedness. Young kittens knead their mother's nipples to stimulate the feeding reflex so that her milk flows. Cats may knead for a short or extended period of time; the extended period is sometimes interpreted by people as a sign of discomfort or restlessness, but it is more likely that the cat is happy. Most cats will demonstrate this for about ten minutes at the longest, although some have been known to knead and suckle on their favorite human's shirt or ear lobe over the course of an entire night. Researchers at Oxford University have demonstrated that cats derive immense pleasure from kneading, similar to the relaxing sensation for humans from snacking on favorite foods or being massaged.

• A pressing of the face or top of the head against a person's body (head rubbing, nuzzling), or rubbing in quick succession is a sign of affection. Cats may also blink slowly as an expression of affection or security. Many cats also use a question mark-shaped tail to show desire to greet someone they are fond of. They will also stretch to show they are content with their surroundings. Cats may also lick their owner or another person to show affection

Sources:

Appletree

The job description made me pause a little bit, to swallow with one gulp what Mr. Pie explained.

"You mean we have to think and act like the girls or boys these users are texting? How's that possible?" I asked the boss.

"That's why we need people who are innate actors and actresses; we need very open minded agents here," he replied. "This is an adult-oriented business. Are you cool with it?"

I fell silent after he answered my inquiry. While further explaining what the company is about, all I could think of at that moment is whether I am in the right career path or whether the company I would be joining is legitimate or not.

Appleseed

In recalling the events of June 11, 2005

Fullmetal Dreams
June 14, 2007

A top-level management meeting was set the other day to discuss the important changes happening at work. It involves the special account, which I handle, and the subject of the meeting revolved around the movement of agents from one shift to another. Transposing the agents pose some serious challenges. Aside from being uprooted from their respective comfort zones, the agents' personal security while traveling to work is also in question.

Those in attendance were the Team Leaders and Assistant Team Leaders from the different shifts, the HR Officer, The Special Accounts Manager and the Managing Director. The supervisors assured the managers of the agents' acceptance of the new policy. "It will be for their own good," the supervisors explained to their agents. After the last round of attrition which happened last month, nobody on the floor dared to question the move.

I was there too, seated at the corner and listening as the higher ops discussed matters among themselves. I prefer not to join the meeting despite the growing clout I have among the junior officers. It was my superior who did the explaining, as she showed on the white screen using Microsoft Excel the method applied to shuffle the agents.

Though the bright idea of moving people came from the bosses, the data was sourced from me. That is my job now - metrics, quality assurance and training. It's a one-man team designed to support the manager and so far, things are doing well. The agents bound for the graveyard shift were trained by me, and we know a great deal about their performance after assisting my superior in facilitating their diagnostic test.

"So kelan ang simula ng lipat?" the boss inquired.

"Sa Friday na. Kasi off nila ng Thursday at Wednesday." the ATL from the afternoon shift replied.

"Nandun ka ba on Friday?" the boss asked the TL from the graveyard shift. His assistant officer was absent during the meeting.

"Boss day-off ko nun eh."

"So si Zandra lang ang nandun, alam na ba niya yung mga mangyayari?"

"Sabihan ko na lang siya boss." I felt my superior raising an eyebrow. These past few months, a lot of miscommunication happened between the officers from that shift.

Without hesitation, I cut the conversation to propose my idea.

"Sir I volunteer to join the agents in their new shift." It was a promise given to the agents. After all, they were my trainees, and for a time, directly under my supervision.

"Tama! Tama! Ikaw nga pala nagtraining sa kanila." The Managing Director and my supervisor were trading glances. I felt being observed under a microscope.

The meeting was concluded soon after. But before leaving the room, the MD gently pat my back without saying a word.




Looking back, I made rounds on the floor under the capacity of being an assistant team leader reliever just a year ago. Hastily trained and untested for management duties, the bosses were very critical of my leadership. I passed with flying colors, and was even left alone to manage a team many times later. It was the beginning of my ascension, the smoother path before hell broke lose when I became the protege of my new supervisor.

A push of several years into prehistory and I was a mere agent on the floor. I was under a team leader, often, being chastised for my shabby work habits and praised for my excellent job performance. Back then, I was never certain of my future. I merely enjoyed the moment believing I am bound to move elsewhere should I get tired of my career.

Then and now might be light years apart and the space in between was full of black holes that could easily suck me in. The boss' approval is just one of the commendations I have been receiving after being given a management training. Though my account requires an overhaul and better quality standards still must be applied, I now know what to do, and the mandate I fought for so long is now with me.




Five years into this job and this is what I have accomplished.

Gentleman's Agreement

Men want it cold when its hot
and hot when its cold.




















































Intensity
burns out the fire.

Bail Out

The favorite aunt quietly handed over two envelopes after the mass was over. The one which was for my sister had a card inside. I could almost imagine the contents of the letter - her heartfelt wish for a strong union despite having resentments over a hastily prepared wedding. I also speculate that she will bequeath the newlyweds a large sum of money which they could use for the baby's coming. The infant is the family's gem and being the alpha female, the favorite aunt wanted a part to play despite maintaining her distant presence.

What I didn't expect was the second envelope. It was a plain sheet of paper, its edges almost crumpled and it didn't bear any markings that would identify its receiver. It could have been for my mother if assumptions were to be followed. What surprised me however is that the envelope was not for her but for me.

"Sa iyo ito." When I checked the contents of the envelope, it had P500 and P1000 bills.

"Ninang, nahihiya po ako sa inyo."

I was dead serious in returning the money. But the favorite aunt insisted that I keep it. How can I not feel ashamed of her graciousness. Aside from her cash gift for the couple, (which I already sensed) the rent for the van shuttling us from the groom's estate a few towns away to the hotel-overlooking-the-lake came from her own pocket.

After much prodding, I accepted the envelope and thanked her for the gift. The irony of it is that her birthday fell on the same day of my sister's wedding and it was the aunt who gave presents instead of the other way around.

Following my instinct and perhaps my aunt's expectation, I divided the money and invested it in places where it could hardly be used. Not a single centavo was handed over to my mother or was spent for my personal gain.

"I can still survive with my other bank account." I assured myself while signing the documents granting the agent free reign to invest my bounty.

When I got home this evening, I figured that after all the consolidations done to calculate my personal wealth, I didn't lose any money. I owe the favorite aunt for the bail out but it was my sound fiscal policy and my intense affinity for stinginess that kept me afloat -

- despite spending a fortune a day before the bride accepts the hand of the groom.

The Jomanian household remains bullish, for now. But the long term prospects of survival remains uncertain.




Tears streaked down her face when she first heard about my sister's pregnancy.
Her biggest disappointment lies in the couples unreadiness to raise a child.
Both the infant's parents have no means to support themselves.
The child would drain our family's resources
and would be a burden to my mom who is about to retire in a few years.
Instead of her living a comfortable life,
she will be forced to work harder to make ends meet.



And despite her pain
I learned,
it was the favorite aunt who gave
the biggest sum of cash as a wedding gift.

Surpassing all the sponsors witnessing the union,
in the end, the favorite aunt reaffirms her place in the family.

One of the more reasons why my gratitude to her is eternal.

The Messenger

On the balcony of the hotel room we booked perched a bird with a splash of emerald-green on its neck. It was a pigeon and it roosted just outside the glass window next to my mom's bed. The bird appeared shortly after we arrived, and it didn't stir no matter how close we approached its spot. Mother spoke to the pigeon like the avian was her long-time companion. It was like a union of souls coming from a long journey to witness a life-changing event. Utol too, saw the pigeon but she was more terrified of being pecked as she tried to have their photos taken than wonder the bird's place in the divine order of things. I too was concerned about the bird. I tossed some bread crumbs, worried that the little fellow might starve before sunrise. At the back of my head however, I felt something odd about the pigeon. On my dad's grave a few days before, I spoke of reincarnation, and my wish for heaven to leave its window ajar for my dad to see the wedding. It was a lukewarm desire, thought by some higher state of awareness residing in me. For whatever its worth, the pigeon's presence was a good omen. We slept that night assured that dad was among us.

The bird might be roosting before its long journey. It was the most reasonable explanation. It could also be a cosmic messenger: a response after a careless reverie caught the universe's attention. We woke up to a sun-bathed Taal Lake. The air was fresh, and the wind from the nearby peaks blew of good tidings. Looking at the balcony, the bread crumbs were no more. All that is left were the bird droppings all over the balcony floor.

Like a family member saying hello at the eve of the wedding, the pigeon flew away just before daybreak.

Summit Ridge

There is always a first time for everything:

A first time to gaze into a rumbling volcano at the heart of a placid lake on a floor to ceiling window.

A first time to lie in a soft bed and be covered by a thick warm blanket.

A first time to watch the evening news on a 32-inch flat screen television.

A first time to have an evening shower with warm water flowing down from the nozzle.

A first time to have a sumptuous breakfast meal in a hotel her feet has never set foot before.

There is always a time for everything and I gave them my best shot. For when the sun rises and the make-up artists and well-wishers arrive; when the bridal car shows up at the lobby and the slow drive to the church begin; when the groom finally takes the hand of the bride, thus changing our lives forever.

That is when our moment ends.

Meanwhile, as the affectionate Tagaytay fog wraps us in its cold embrace, we will share the night together,

the three of us,

as a family living under uncertain times and uneasy peace.

For one last time.

Summoning The Bloodlines

T-Minus One

If a picture is worth a thousand words, a symbol is worth a million. A union between couples may go as planned, but without the symbolic presence of the people - the couple - particularly the bride cares about, the union loses its importance.

And so for three days, work and gym had to take a back seat. I called in sick as early as 5 am two days ago only to leave the house at 9 to catch the favorite aunt. She was doing her rounds at a hospital in Manila. The invitation was received, despite her most heartbreaking disappointment when she learned about my sister's pregnancy several months ago. She accepted the invitation and even volunteered to pay for our rented car.

She will come on her wedding.

Hours turn to dust as the blistering heat of a mid-day sun scorched a busy city. While chasing the other aunt who was under the radar these past few months, I learned that finding her would entail a lot of effort. I went to her office in Luneta only to learn that she had a seminar in a hotel in Makati. Meanwhile, the sponsors' invitations require personal delivery as well. Not to mention a special trip to Diliman to enroll in a European Language Class and a side trip to Pag-Ibig, to chance upon a loan that would boost my savings.

A wrong jeep lead me to the gates of Santa Clara Church. Listening to my better angels, I knew what to do. I had to pause and give thanks for a well-spent sick leave. A family friend in Katipunan (who I suspected to be gay - and he is well-beyond fifty) keeps a cute houseboy. I tried to downplay my suspicions but my baklameter registered otherwise.

Under the ruthless sun I walked miles to reach my destinations. I had to switch from one jeep to another just to catch up the people I had to see. The aunt who had a seminar in Makati has already left when I arrived. I could not send her a text message out of fear that she might decline the invitation. A security guard in a gated village refused my entry when I said the wrong name of another family friend. It was almost six in the evening and my journey is not yet over. I knew then that to catch the other aunt, I would have to drop by her place in Paranaque. Giving up is not an option. I felt - through my conversations with my mom before sending the invitations that she wanted her sisters to personally receive the letters.

In hope that some old wounds may be healed.

I boarded a not-so-ordinary bus in Ayala - the ones that are notoriously good in running-over people in Edsa and East Avenue. It was packed up to its very doors with oh-so-very ordinary masa eager to get home. Traffic was light at SLEX and Bicutan appeared just beyond an overhead signboard ten minutes after the jet-bus took off at Magallanes. Enduring the long wait to get a tricyle, the sticky, smelly skin after embarking on a road trip across a dusty metropolis, the bumpy road going to my aunt's house - only to find that she hasn't arrived yet,

would have crushed my already withering bones.

But such sacrifices only come rare in one's lifetime and a wedding is a once-in-a lifetime experience. So I waited.

waited.

and waited.

Finally after an hour, the doorknob turned and when the door opened, it was her. Handing over the invitation, the other aunt's bright smile hinted her answer.

"Of course we will come."

I rode a luxurious coach going north the following day. The invitation will be given to my father's only sister this time. Though she informed ahead that she will not come, (despite my unconditional offer of renting a car on her behalf) she presented 2 thousand pesos from her personal savings as a gift. This aunt survives by means of occasional remittances from my uncle. With a son (who has a pregnant wife and a daughter) she still requires to look after, an adopted kid she needs to raise. Such gift is a great sacrifice.

Before leaving the place, I went to the cemetery to visit a fallen bloodline. It should have been my sister honoring his grave, but my conscience would never let me rest until I perform the act myself.

In the remaining months of his life, we were arch-enemies.

We only found peace one year after his passing. In a dream.

"I would take your place on her wedding day. Sana buhay ka pa para nakita mo siyang maglakad sa altar."

Listen

Had my late snack - slash - lunch at Kowloon House in Cubao after my Pag-Ibig was approved. The bid to secure the loan, which will boost my already dwindling savings was accomplished in part due to a little theatrical performance which the officer found believable.

"Sir, nanggaling po kasi ako ng clinic, medyo mahaba po ang pila kaya ngayon lang ako nakabalik." The stub read I'm the 260th applicant. The number flashing on the screen showed that they are now serving the person with the 360th stub.

"Clinic talaga ha?" His reply had an air of doubt.

"Opo..." To add to the make believe, I tried to cough occasionally, while giving the impression that I was feeling weak.

The ruse was a success and the application process didn't last an hour. The truth was far from the mischievous excuse. I was in UP trying to beat the deadline for my special subject enrollment. The bid was a success, too, only after trudging my way from the CAL Building to the Shopping Center and back to the CAL Building under a fiery sun. The European Languages Department requires the official receipt.

Returning to Pag-Ibig, I was persuaded to make a stop-over at my spiritual retreat in Katipunan. The place, being more identifiable with pilgrims seeking divine favors by sending a basket of eggs to the nuns, is more of a sanctum for me. However, procrastination got ahead and I had decided to make arrangements with the loan officer instead.

"Maybe I could squeeze some time after all my goals have been met." So I thought.

But the universe retains its air of mystery and the unfathomable was watching my every move. For some reasons, the jeep I rode at P.Tuazon turned left to Aurora (instead of going right to Bonny Serrano and into my next destination) to bring me back to where the pilgrimage began.

Alright I was in Katipunan - the other side of Katipunan that is.

Smiling at the heavens, I knew what the message was. There is always time to accomplish the earthly needs. Meanwhile, it wouldn't hurt to give thanks for the favorable winds billowing my sail despite the odds against my expedition.

Drawing the Bible and the wooden rosary from my bag, I went inside the sanctum to have a heart-to-heart talk with my creator.

Crossing, 1:00 AM

At the corner of Shaw Boulevard and Edsa. While sitting on a pavement a few steps away from 7-Eleven. While starving buses hungry for passengers honk their horns from a distance and sleepy people make transit in front of a lone jeepney waiting for the home-bounds to fill its empty seats. A lean man in a blue sleeveless shirt tosses his cigarette on the ground. He has been standing next to a loading sign for eternity before deciding to fling his bags inside the waiting jeep. With a near smoked-out Marlboro lodged between my fingers; a Neil Gaiman novel resting on my lap; a restless body dying to turn itself into a disco ball; and an old soul walking tensely back and forth while trading thoughts with a kindred spirit on a hopelessly romantic telephone.

Crossing his fingers.
Determined to find that once-in-an-epoch connection.

Feeling the cold ground while looking past the lamp posts over a massive bridge; beyond the glare of light bulbs reveals a pitch black sky longing to be noticed. My companion behind me has shut the world, as I say a silent prayer for a runaway star who might be staring down from the heavens.

We try to keep tabs of the moment,

Hoping the heart never withers.

We try to clutch our arms to the memory ,

For something for us to believe.




Exactly one month later, the kindred spirits now call themselves one.
All it takes to find his beloved was a fateful telephone call.

T Minus Five

We paid the groom's family a visit before the wedding five days from now. It was a gesture of friendship: a desire to get to know the parents in their home turf before my sister, and by extension - us - becomes part of their family. The pamamanhikan by his parents last April was a resounding success. Therefore, the feeling of awkwardness was never expected. We knew we will be welcomed and accommodated the same way my future brother-in-law has been granted unconditional access to our house.

The family lives in a compound, in a town somewhere in the backwaters of Cavite. My future brother-in-law's father who is an engineer shares the land with his three brothers and his parents. They are a patriarchal family but it was the grandmother who received us. The grandmom was visibly disappointed with how his out-of-school grandson has become. She kept saying that my future bro was good in math and she was his tutor. She cannot understand though what happened after her grandson stepped into the halls of the university.

Like me, we would never understand what student activism is all about.

Reception was very warm, and my mother - in her infinite kindness and cheery disposition - jived well with the groom's family. Even my cousin who will serve as the maid-of-honor on the wedding day was received as well. They spoke more about the family history, after which we sent subtle fillers about our financial obligations to the wedding - which they courteously ignored. Eventually, the intricacies were ironed out without much debate. My wish now is that everyone in my family shows up during the occasion.

I have always kept an ambivalent, if not subverted hostile attitude towards my sister's upcoming union. It was hastily planned to begin with. It is an event that digs deep into our already empty pockets. I kept on saying a civil wedding would suffice but my mom would always tell that a spiritual union forges stronger bond between couples. Besides she reasons that it was the groom's family who would take much of the burden.

We are but merely spectators to their well-rehearsed event.

Wedding preparations are underway. And despite my evasive maneuvers to avoid having a part in the wedding, it seems the uncertain reality has finally caught up with me.

After staring at the near-empty highway going to Tagaytay: After the biting chill and the intermittent rain have soaked my medium-sized orange shift: After the lovely invitation cards were handed over for us to distribute:

And after the groom's parents pointed at the room in the attic where my sister and her husband are supposed to live.

For all the fears I keep within.

I am bound to reign over the old household

alone and with less support.

When my sister assumes responsibility to her new family.

Berdugo

We lift a page in history to reveal how mean we used to be.

I was barely ten years old and already had this aversion to cats. They sneaked inside the house and ate leftovers on the sink. They threatened the chicks and ducklings I kept (and massacred wholesale, without realizing it) and their feces and urine putrefied our clothes left to dry in the backyard. This strong distaste for felines was reinforced by our neighbor's snooty cat, which showed strong derision whenever I stroked its fur. It ran away at the mere sight of me, and in return I plotted to hit it with a stick (or stone) when I catch it sleeping in the laundry area.

A kitten's nose turned red with fresh blood after hitting it continuously with a plastic hanger. The kitten was up for adaption and I asked the old lady if I could have one kitten and make it my pet (since I can't get the neighbor's cat to like me) The old lady who was desperate to make the litter disappear (short of throwing it away) gave all the kittens to me. When I got home and tried to feed them, they snarled and growled and hissed whenever my hand tried to get close. With my infinite impatience and lack of understanding of how cats behave in the presence of strangers, I grew tired of their insolence and began beating them to submission.

I returned the kittens to the old lady when my rage had subsided.

Pushing the neighbor's snooty cat over the ledge and into the kanal without being caught by the neighbor was my favorite game. I found extreme fondness in tossing stray kittens into the same muck to let it swim until the disgusted neighbor rescues them with his sharp eyes glaring at me. I once saw a door mouse, dipped into the same sludge by some good-for-nothing tambay and fed it to a feral cat. The deadly fodder was too much for the pussy's digestive tract that it rejected it by throwing up and the regurgitated remains of the mouse was left to rot right outside the steel gate of an abandoned house.

The list of crimes against kittykind (which include random hitting, slapping and kicking of a stray cat whenever I spot them on the road) would go on if not for a tabby in school who was introduced to me by an elderly nun. His name was Putot and while waiting for my Piano teacher to finish her class, I would stay at the nun's office to play with her cat. Putot was very friendly. He would let me stroke his fur even on the day we first met. He was an old cat. Unfortunately, I've heard nothing from him or his owner after my Piano lessons were abruptly terminated.

Several months later, a half-blind, tri-colored stray cat became a regular fixture at home. As to how he became endeared to us, I cannot recall. All I remember was the old saying about tri-colored cats being lucky house companions, and that one morning he was in the kitchen and waiting for my mom to drop some pieces of bread for him to eat.

Putot changed my attitude towards his kind. The stray, tri-colored cat was the beginning of my fondness towards the animal. He was our first feline pet - the new line of cats who would become residents of our old house after an aunt accidentally drop her kittens in a water container which led to their deaths.

The tri-colored tabby left without being given a name. I guess it was his nature to roam the neighborhood than to be stuck in a home with a master to please. In his absence, something has changed. A year before leaving grade school, a girl friend gave me a striped-orange kitten that was given to her by her teacher.

We gave him a name - Kulit - for being too stubborn while in transit from his mother, to the school where he would meet my friend and into our house where he was finally adopted.

His companionship and hardheadedness was something I never felt from the ducklings, quails and chicks that I raised. He was our pest controller, and at times even ate his bounty by my bedside. He would constantly demand our attention, and did drastic measures to get noticed. (such as spraying every corner of the house with his pee or napping on top of the TV and blocking the screen with his tail while everyone watches a news program)

He went missing though after a few years. Kulit slipped under the box on his way to a veterinarian. He was never found and we moved on with our live.

Yet as a parting gift, for all the days he stayed with us.

His sweet and warm nature had won me over. my aversion towards cats has finally disappeared.

The Inhibitor

It is in these very rare moments of drunkenness that the body speaks unopposed.

"No. We are too tired to go clubbing."

Thus, we have to accept that after reigning for eight years in the dance floor, age stands with us no more.

Flag Ceremony

Grade School pupil pa lang ay pasaway na ako pagdating sa tardiness. Naroon na kailangan bumangon ng 5:30 ng umaga para sa pasok na 6:45 pero alas sais na subalit ako ay nakahiga pa rin. Kasambahay ang madalas gumigising sa akin - na lagi ko pang inaaway kapag hindi ako binibigyan ng time extension. Talo pa ako ng pusa sa pagiging hygienic. Ayaw na ayaw kong nabubuhusan ng nagyeyelong tubig kapag bagong gising. Kaya sa halip na pumasok ng walang ligo, katulong rin ang nagpapaligo sa akin.

Kahit ako ay Grade 5 na.

Araw-araw ang flag ceremony sa aming school. Meron kaming isang malaking quadrangle kung saan sama-samang nakatayo sa pila ang mga elementary at high school students. Sa gitna ng quad matatagpuan ang flagpole. Hindi ko na matandaan kung sino ang nagtataas ng bandila noon, pero may hinala ako na hindi yun manggagaling sa hanay ng highschool sapagkat lahat sila ay mga babae.

Dumarating ako ng school pasado alas-siyete na. Manggaling ka ba naman ng Santa Mesa patungong E. Rodriguez sa Quezon City at tiyak na kulang pa ang isang oras na travel time para makaabot sa iyong paroroonan. Kabilang ako sa mga pugante na hina-hunting at dinadala sa Office of Student Affairs. Sermon lang naman kay Mr. Jose Dela Cruz at pag-confiscate ng ID ang parusa sa hindi pag-attend ng flag ceremony. Pero ang trauma ng pakikipaghabulan (na minsan ay umaabot pa sa Nun's Quarters habang naririnig sa buong paligid ang favorite anthem ng mga madre na Salve Regina sa movie na Sister Act) lalo na sa isang pupil na kagaya ko, kasunod ng pagdakip ng mga Boys Scout at pagtinginan ng ibang mga estudyante na nagmamartsa patungo sa kani-kanilang mga classroom ay tiyak na dadapuan ka ng kahihiyan anumang denial ang iyong ipakita.

Kinalaunan ay natuto rin akong dumating sa school ng mas maaga - kahit pa madalas ay humahawi ang mga bata kapag ako ay nasa pila at nagsisipagliparan ang mga langaw kung saan ako naroon. Namemorize ko rin ang Lupang Hinirang at Panatang Makabayan, pati na rin ang school hymn na ngayon ay hindi ko na halos ma-recall. Nakatapos ako ng elementary na nasa puso at isipan ang halaga ng flag ceremony, subalit pagdating ng high school,

mga cadet naman ng CAT ang kalaro ko ng mataya-taya tuwing umaga.



Dekada na ang lumipas at sa huli kong tanda, muli akong tumayo upang magbigay respeto sa watawat ng bansa at kantahin ang national anthem noong nanood kami ng sine ng ka-eyeball ko galing Planet Romeo. Wala na ang sidhi ng damdamin na aking nararamdaman tuwing may flag ceremony, at ang bandila, pati na rin ang Lupang Hinirang na hindi ko na saulado ang lyrics ay lipas na sa aking diwa.

Subalit habang naglalakad pauwi galing sa trabaho nitong umaga, muling dumapo sa aking alaala ang mga flag ceremony namin noon. Marahil ay dahil Independence Day ngayon at naghahanap lang ako ng masusulat sa blog. Maari rin namang hindi, sapagkat ilang araw na akong may nakakasalubong na school bus sa daan at ang mga pangitaing iyon ay siyang nagpapa-senti sa akin nitong mga nakaraan.

-

Then and now are two different timelines. If I learned anything at all, it is that freedom has a price. I maybe a delinquent pupil before but I eventually recognized the presence of authority. Responsibility is a spirit still unknown to me. But now that I'm older; now that I am free to make my own choices - without running away and hiding like what I did during the flag ceremonies of my childhood.

Real freedom, as I have experienced, happens only when the flames of self-determination licks and burns the heart.

Cleansing

We know. Something has changed after learning the lessons of Planet Romeo. The day has come to burn the not-so-worthy bridges.

[12:04] mattdamon70: gud pm
[12:04] mugen: kamusta

[12:05] mattdamon70: ok naman. kaw kamusta?
[12:05] mugen: ayos lang

[12:05] mugen: GY shift mamaya
[12:05] mattdamon70: ah. ok. me, may pasok ako.

[12:05] mattdamon70: mamaya
[12:06] mugen: ingat

[12:08] mattdamon70: ok tnx
[12:08] mattdamon70: dre,

[12:08] mattdamon70: trade tayo pics?
[12:08] mugen: o?

[12:09] mugen: noon ko pa naman hinihingi yung sayo ah
[12:09] mattdamon70: ano

[12:09] mattdamon70: trade ah
[12:10] mugen: bakit gusto mo makipagtrade ng pic?

[12:10] mattdamon70: ala lang. curios ako ano looks mo.
[12:10] mattdamon70: mattdamon70: has buzzed you!

[12:11] mugen: kasi?
[12:19] mattdamon70: kasi ano?

[12:19] mugen: i don't get it
[12:19] mugen: bakit gusto mo makita picture ko

[12:20] mattdamon70: curious lang. wala naman masama di ba.
[12:20] mugen: wala.

[12:20] mugen: strange enough
[12:20] mugen: hindi ako curious makita face pic mo

[12:21] mattdamon70: ah ok.. sige ok lng. tnx nalang
[12:23] mattdamon70: ok.. ingat nalang.. hindi na kita message uli.. bye

[12:23] mugen: bye pare
[12:23] mattdamon70: delete mo contact ko..

[12:23] mugen: walang problema

One must consider the values of the person he is dealing with. There is no doubt the contact is a denizen of the online world. It shows in the way he speak; his impatience to get through the guy he is chatting with is obvious. Though I no longer harbor any doubts about the way I look, revealing my face to online acquaintances is a matter of trust. It is a gesture of honor, and a source of disappointment when I am forced to do something against my will.

History tells that I seldom ask for a person's face-pic, unless I accept our fate to be forgotten after our needs have been fulfilled. I take risk and effort to know a person without judging the way he looks. It is an act of courtesy, a value most of us have traded for quick correspondence and superficial connections.

Sometimes I wonder what we have lost in the name of progress. Technology has made our lives easier, but in truth, did it make us truly complete? If the trend is to select and collect and throw away as many imperfections as possible, then my guess is I am catching up.

First to go are the ones whose expectations I cannot keep.

The general rule remains: the longer I stay anonymous, withdrawn and distant to a person, the stronger my intention to keep him a friend. I show up only when needed, and in such rare cases, I seldom fail. I don't give second chances to strangers, fuck up your attitude and off you go. I will repress my feelings, and learn never to be attached.

Two in a month is enough.

The cleansing goes into full swing and we wonder, who would remain when the dust finally clears.

Planet Romeo

The choice was between a quick trip to a bathouse and a creation of an online account in a gay dating website.

Those were the two options left after a friendly eyeball bore nothing save for three hours of fruitless chatter with an ageist guy who is about to work abroad. I have no complaints about the meet-up. The guy was decent and friendly, and if not for showing blatant interest in using me to make contact with other gay men, I would keep our ties and consider him a friend.

But users are not worth my time.

So after meeting the guy in Buendia, I found myself in Malate searching for hook-ups in MIRC. It was a weekend evening and work between playtime didn't bother me at all. I have already spent weeks declining SEB invitations and I was not certain how long I could hold my junior back.

But the mind has its way of repressing the senses. I was just two blocks away from Epitome - a bath house I once explored. Being familiar with the place, returning there would be a breeze. All I have to do was to sign up for membership and I could prowl its unlit corridors like I did once.

The skin aches to feel, yet it desires something lasting - something it can get used to as the days march into weeks. Going to Epitome and making warm bodily contacts was easy, but quickies will never satisfy the need.

I heard of a place where men of my kind congregate. They call it Planet Romeo. You would find them there in many different mutations and longings. Some seek companionship, while others are mostly for the trip. I once turned my back from that realm but with personal troubles trying to overwhelm me, (the uneasy peace between siblings is being shaken by her continuous disrespect of my earthly possessions, secret fall-outs in the workplace and the lack of will to seek employment elsewhere, the question of why I cannot form affectionate bonds that last, and the apparent lack of direction the way my life is going) the stand-off was wearing me down.

Any kind of distraction or self-imagined affection are welcome.

Planet Romeo offers a choice to stall lustful goals until you get to know a person down to his soul. Unlike in Epitome where random orgasmic encounters are certain. You walk into the abyss. Trade glances with a stranger and off you go to the netherworld where every act of breeding brings only wanton delights. And then there is amnesia. You try to forget everything. You erase the memory of the guy who slurped your prick or shoved his tongue inside your ass. You second-guess the predicament - the "what-ifs" emerge - and for all the trouble and bliss that happened inside the bath house, the consequence leaves you back to where you started.

So it was decided that I will create an online account. The goal primarily is to explore a world where I could get to know people without crossing lines - in a sexual sense of the word. But as the rest of the blog world knows, I got hooked less than five hours after my account went online. I also got to know a guy who turns to be a professor back in college. Had I taken him for a ride, and my naked presence received, the social experiments would have been abandoned. In its place are the titillating recount of my trysts with random guys instead.

The steamy encounters never happened - except for the dry run which I could play back in my head. There were two drinking sessions. The first one ended in a walk-out after the guy refused a kiss, the other led to the discovery of Gilbey's Premium Strength. The alcohol now replaces my weekly fix consisting of beer after learning that it could hit me with just two bottles.

The social experiments revealed the analytical side of me. I have learned a lot from my interaction and saw how values have changed from the very first time I created an online gay account. I have turned into a bitch (and swung my imaginary axe over jejemons and those who don't read profiles), bruised a lot of egos, and was disarmed by a guy I thought could be the one.

The shards from his shattered glass still remains embedded under my skin.

And I am learning from it.


I am learning from it.


Two weeks into the world of Romeo and I am set to leave orbit. I have no reason to stay nor I am wanting to remain for beliefs I once held. Four casual meet-ups, dozens of sexual invitations and more than a thousand profile views produced nothing.

Upon my departure, the name HavokSSR would be remembered as an ass - not only to the pretentious and illiterate, but to the straight-acting men who believe the world revolves around them. He will also be remembered for being kind to the transgendered, effeminate men who make sense and even to a person living with HIV. He has been encouraging to them, replied with much enthusiasm during their correspondence, and left words full of acceptance

and friendship.

Hoping that whatever pain he brought and whatever bruise he suffered will be atoned in the end.



It used to be a fantasy to be pitted against two manly tops.
A skirmish I wouldn't say no for an answer if and ever an opportunity came.


But I have already outgrown my childhood's twisted dream
and I know, fate is challenging my resolve now that I'm free.
Into the few hours of SSR's last breathe
came the very tempting invitation.

Photos were exchanged;
place was already set.
And just when he is about to give his number;
just when there is a chance to receive Havok's parting gift.





A press of a button
and the Planet Romeo Account is no more.

One For The Road

There is method to madness and I am just as twisted as everyone else. Now that I will fade away claiming a certain bittersweet victory, let me shake their world once more before I set sail and return to the heavens.

Warning: Words not suitable for boys 21 years old and up.

-

1. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:12
I love you!

2. confucius 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:13
huh


wazzup>
wat u up to?

3. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:15
nothing. just wanted to say I love you. Ayos ba?

4. confucius 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:15
cool


got face pics/

5. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:17
say you love me first, i'll show you after.

6. confucius 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:18
i love yu too mwah mwah

7. confucius 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:22
?

8. confucius 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:30
?

lokohana ba to tol?


Hindi pa ba obvious?

-

1. massage_sarap7 08. Jun. 2010 - 00:59
Sir magpapamasahe po b kayo?txt u po me at 09053755300

my pic escorts g4m massage_sarap6 or


manjam pic massagesarap6.5

2. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:01
hindi ko gusto massage pare. kantot gusto ko. thanks for the offer. :)

3. massage_sarap7 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:03
1k

4. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:05
makukuha ko naman ng libre eh. bakit kelangan ko pa magbayad.

5. massage_sarap7 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:07
k

6. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:08
Bareback mo ako. okay sakin 1K.

7. massage_sarap7 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:10
anu un sir

8. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:11
kantutan na walang condom. ayos lang ba?

9. massage_sarap7 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:13
di po takot po ako.ganu po sir.wagna po

10. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:14
sige na. malinis naman ako eh.

11. massage_sarap7 08. Jun. 2010 - 01:18
di po wag nalang po sir.gamit tayo para walang sisihan sir

I'm impressed!

-

1. anton09 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:40
what's up?

wanna have fun? got place? reach me at 09168764211 09218844211.

2. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:41
ganda nung kasama mo pre. tranny ba siya?

3. anton0909 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:43
no. she's agirl actually. so, wanna have fun?

4. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:43
mukha kasi siyang tranny eh. sayang gusto ko pa naman siya.

Someone's ego got busted. Sorry. Just tripping around.

-

1. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:26
hi

2. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:28
nice name. magaling ka ba sa kama?

3. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:29
uu top me ikaw

4. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:36
top rin. puwede kaya ako ang mag-drill sayo?

5. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:36
hindi me nag papa drill suck na lang

6. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:38
suck mo ako? kaya mo ba 7 inches?

7. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:39
ou place ka wer in sampaloc?

8. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:39
sa may dimasalang. nakatira ako dun sa bridge.

9. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:40
ok

10. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:42
wanna cum to my place?

11. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:43
sunduin mko espana

12. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:43
san sa espana? may car ako.

13. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:44
face pic naman jan pls face pic muna

14. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:46
don't worry dude, gwapo ako. Ano? Game?

15. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:46
xempre i need to see you face pic ...

16. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:47
Game naman ako pero xempre pic naman muna pls

17. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:48
mas gwapo ako sayo don't worry. wala akong face pic dito. Hirap na, baka may makakilala.

18. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:49
kahit face book sana para game na...

19. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:50
hindi ko puwede ibigay yun. nandun buong pangalan ko eh. Ano, trip mo ba o hindi? Kasi dami nagooffer sakin ng place.

20. drill 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:55
cge wag po muna takot ako sa wala pong picv sori po huhuhu

21. ssr 08. Jun. 2010 - 12:57
ok. you're not that cute anyway.

Bitter amp.

-

texter: Ano nga pala height at weight mo? Stats mo pla ksi ang dami ko ksing bnasang profile di ko na matandaan yung sau...

ssr: 5'9 165 lbs

strike one: pay attention to the person you speak to.

texter: Matangkad ka pala. 5'5 lng ako, 130 lbs hehe. Ikaw ata ang Daddy.. Hahaha

ssr: Dominant ka naman.

texter: Ayoko na sau. Di tau bagay... 5'7 nga lang gus2 ko eh.

strike two: I didn't say anything when I saw your face and found your looks below average. What I wanted was your friendship.
ssr: Aw sige.

texter: Tropang textmate na lang tayo.

In the first place, it wasn't me who revealed his inner motives. What's more strange is that it wasn't your prick I first noticed when I viewed your profile, it was the photo of Orion's Belt you included in your profile that caught my attention.


No effort to text back was undertaken.

The Beautiful Letdown

The Social Experiments are now complete. One last eyeball and I'd begin the countdown to the deletion of my Planet Romeo account.

A Social Experiment Pt. 4
May 28, 2010

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Sabi niya sa text message na pink blouse at blue skirt ang kanyang suot. Adik talaga ang ka-meet up ko ngunit hindi ako nagpatalo. Reply ko naman na naka backless serpentine gown ako na may fuchsia Kashmir sa leeg. First time namin manood ng movie na magkasama kaya imagine na lang kung totoo talaga ang mga get-up namin. One-way talaga ang kalalabasan. Usapan ay walang palitan ng face-pic habang magkausap sa Planet Romeo bago magkita, kaya't laking gulat ko nang malaman na yung morenong bansot subalit balingkinitan ang katawan na nagtetext malapit sa railings na katapat ng mga sinehan ang akin palang katagpo.

Habang nagde-decide ng movie na papanoorin, sabi ko na mag Shrek Forever After na lang kami. Gusto ko kasing matawa at the same time ay para maging relax ang mood ko habang may kasama. Hindi naman ako nahirapang kumbinsihin ang ka-eyeball ko. Gusto daw niya ng something light sa halip na manood ng Robin Hood at Prince of Persia na medyo seryoso ang tema.

Umupo kami sa pinakataas na row ng movie theater sa kadahilanang hindi ko na kinulayan pa. Nakakahiya rin kasi dahil libre niya ang ticket at wala namang flirty talk na nangyari sa aming dalawa. Matapos ang trailer ng The Last Airbender, nakita ko sa kanyang mga mata ang pagkamangha sa special effects ng movie. Para lang siyang bata. Lalo na doon sa final battle scene kung saan lalamunin ng tubig ang mga kalaban ni Aang.

"Sana mapanood rin natin yan," bulong ko sa aking katabi na tila naging dahilan upang lumitaw ang smiley face sa kanyang mukha. Bago magsimula ang palabas ay lihim na inabot niya ang kamay nito sa akin. Hindi ako nagdalawang isip iabot ang sa akin dahil gusto ko rin naman ang balak niya mangyari.

Naglapat ang aming mga daliri.

Mahigpit ang kapit nito.

"It feels good dude. Don't let go" Ang nasabi ko sa kanya

At sa buong panahong pinapatawa kami ni Shrek, Donkey, Puss at Fiona ay hindi siya bumitaw sa kanyang pagkakahawak.

Marami pa ang nangyari noong gabi ng una naming meet-up. Nilibre ko siya ng Chao Fan meal sa Chowking. Naghati kami sa Garlic Kangkong na aking snack upang siya ay sabayan. Inikot namin ang Ortigas Center upang magkuwentuhan tungkol sa kanya-kanyang buhay at hinintay siyang makasakay ng G-Liner sa tabi ng POEA patungong Kanluran kung saan siya nakatira.

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It was our first meet-up and it didn't end there. We watched another movie in less than a week, sent text messages every night just to check if the other gets home. He would ask for a hug, which I would send through virtual motions. And there were even talks of future meet-ups the next time a good movie gets to be shown on theaters.

I have always believed in the fantasy he created. It was the air I breathed for almost a week. And just when I had lost my will to fight - to welcome other souls - and focus on what the one was trying to build.

Just when I was ready to open the doors to my home, and probably even there, in the organ beneath my chest,

he cease making contact and then suddenly, deleted his Planet Romeo account for reasons I will never know.

The Great Shrug

I was at the heart of the dance floor when I received a text message from an unknown number.

"bj mo ako."

The objective was clear, tantalizing and I immediately knew where it came from. A normal horny guy would reply "gimme 30 minutes to get there. Fuck mo na rin ako," which I could have actually said. But instead, I chose to settle scores and diss his mood after what he did a few days ago.

"Hu u?" I sent back.

"Si plug_play ito. Punta ka dito." His reply was swift this time. Someone must be having a boner to show such desperation. The last time I sent a text message, it took almost forever for him to text back. My place was available that time and I wanted him to sleep over.

I secretly wanted a hug.

"Wala akong kilalang plug_play pare." Of course, I was lying. How can I forget my first sexual encounter in Planet Romeo.

"Ako yung sinuck mo two weeks ago dito sa [name of street]." It was highly flattering for him to remember. Who would have thought the hunk would actually demand an encore performance.

But no, I could get a better deal from someone else.

In my experience, guys tend to boss around and ignore you when they know you are into them. We both understand the convenience - of sending signals to one another - whenever we have this urge. What he did, however, was to deny his identity and let others harass me by posing as another person. Last Monday, someone called at 4 in the morning just to clarify the name I was referring to a text message. He said the name Markus wasn't his.

He even asked if I was gay which leads me to say "Pakiealam mo tol." then dropping his call and putting my phone on a silent mode.

That same day, I decided to cut ties after that nasty call and thought he was out of my life until tonight.

Looking across the smoke-filled room where people stand in corners to look at one another, his text message was a mere blip compared to what could be achieved when someone decides to lock eyes with me. Sometimes a person must learn to show some restraint to give others a chance to look for you. For when it's always you who express and show your admiration, you end up being unappreciated.

You look for someone only when he is gone.

Sliding my phone back in my pocket, I decided not to reply to his message. It was my vindication: a retaliation against the people who tend to drop you after their needs have been fulfilled. Getting back into the groove, a score settled has left me in a jovial mood. While a devious grin - now more prominent on my weary face - tells that he is not a loss

not a loss at all.

Rubi

Ignoring those who are there to annoy is easier than showing some fangs and biting back. But sometimes, one has to knock some sense for people to understand the etiquette guiding human interaction.

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1. uerj 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:14
meet n fun?

2. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:14
no.

3. uerj 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:15
fuk mko

4. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:18
don't be a loser dude. I said no.

5. uerj 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:20
cge na

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1. callmefifi 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:25
hi. paulpeter "PP" here.
22, half jap slim maputi po.
got place near kalentong.
u free tonight???

2. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:26
for what?

3. callmefifi 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:28
come on dude, u know what i mean.

4. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:30
no i don't and as far as i remember, I've never written in my profile anything about hanging out at someone's place.

5. callmefifi 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:33
okay okay.
just inviting. u can always say no. =)

6. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 09:33
no. thank you for the invite tol.

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1. HiMaN 02. Jun. 2010 - 10:19
got face pics?

2. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 10:23
for what po?

3. HiMaN 02. Jun. 2010 - 10:25
meet up later?

4. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 10:28
and?

5. HiMaN 02. Jun. 2010 - 10:30
face pics?

6. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 10:31
no thanks.

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1. juniorman 02. Jun. 2010 - 12:22
wanna come over to my place now? i am alone here...tagaoliveros st. barangka ibaba ako sa may iglesia ni cristo ... pls tx me at 09386560650 if you wanna. pls reply.... thanks..

2. ssr 02. Jun. 2010 - 12:27
no. thanks dude.

3. juniorman 03. Jun. 2010 - 10:39
can i come over to ur place now? pls tx me at 09386560650 if you wanna. pls reply.... thanks...

4. juniorman 03. Jun. 2010 - 11:43
can i come over to ur place now? pls tx me at 09386560650 if you wanna. pls reply.... thanks...

5. juniorman 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:06
wanna come over to my place now? i am alone here...tagaoliveros st. barangka ibaba ako sa may iglesia ni cristo ... pls tx me at 09386560650

6. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:08
copy pasted yang message mo ah!

7. juniorman 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:09
ang hirap magtype eh hehehe

8. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:12
pati ba naman pagsusulat ng personal na mensahe sa tao eh kinakatamaran na. :)

9. juniorman 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:24
hahah sorry naman po pangit po ang dating?

10. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:28
oo tol. para kasing pinapamukha mo na lahat ng tao dito eh sex lang ang hanap.

11. juniorman 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:29
sorry po d na mauulit...

12. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:32
ayos lang yun. sayang. may appeal ka pa naman.

13. juniorman 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:35
hehehe salamat naman hehehe

14. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:38
walang anuman. konting ingat lang bro.

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1. miyuki 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:13
tol wanna see the real me hehehhe add q kea sa y.m tapos papa view aq heheeh ano deal if you want just leave ur eadd sa y,m ha ok tnx mwa

2. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:17
Why do I want to see the real you? What makes you interesting?

3. miyuki 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:20
hmpt let me justify what i've said coz basically in this website i already meet up a lot but most of them is only a poser so i want somebody to see me just to prove that i am not 1 of them gets

4. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:26
In the first place dude, what makes you interesting for me to meet you?

5. miyuki 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:29
dude coz i think ur quit interesting heheheh being a part of this site is a rediculous moment right

6. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:31
why am I interesting?

7. miyuki 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:33
nothing hehehe im also wondering why peo ang alam q magaan ang loob q seo

8. ssr 03. Jun. 2010 - 20:35
dahil?

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1. DGD0911 04. Jun. 2010 - 10:34
hi.. hope to hear more from you

2. ssr 04. Jun. 2010 - 10:39
hear what pare?

3. DGD0911 04. Jun. 2010 - 10:41
anything pare

friends???

4. ssr 04. Jun. 2010 - 10:46
friends.

5. DGD0911 04. Jun. 2010 - 10:47
tns..

asl and stats

6. ssr 04. Jun. 2010 - 10:48
READ!

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2. asian_sexy05 04. Jun. 2010 - 16:03
hello good day!!! ok lng ba makipag sex sau bayran kita i have a place available anytime....sagot ko lahat byran kita...reply me nplease:)here my ym i have a cam to see me 1st asian_sexy01@yahoo.com

3. ssr 04. Jun. 2010 - 16:05
Thanks babe but I don't go for trannies.

And I'm not even for sale. =)

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Catharsis can be purged from cruelty and I must admit that it feels good to be mean sometimes. Yet, at the back of my head, I must remember that these souls I just dejected are already numbed from being thrown away and discarded many times over.

They have lost faith in finding real connection with people.

"Because if they are good-looking or physically fit, or even masculine like the ones they look up to, they would, possibly, receive a better treatment there."

"And because if they feel superior to the ones who reaches out to them, they will discard and abandon these souls like how they are rejected by the ones they look up to."

A sad, sad life indeed.

But there is a way to break the cycle.

In our quest to find instant gratification, people forget the essence of communication: to have an idea about the person we wish to communicate. Those who are sincere in reaching out will read descriptions. They will look for common grounds. The message from all those people who saw the bitch-in-me convey a mere interest in having a glimpse of the face behind the impressive physique. There are no long-term intentions. Only short-time ties that are tainted with sensual self-interest.

The ones I have engaged in a pleasant chat tend to be sensible and intelligent. They read introductions such as mine which is short and vivid like a brief afternoon downpour. Placing great care in wittily revealing between the lines the person I look forward to meet, one actually doesn't need to be fit, manly or even good-looking to catch my attention.

1. ssr 31. May. 2010 - 23:29
That's the sad thing when you care too much. You are often, unappreciated.

2. trojan 31. May. 2010 - 23:31
yah =(

3. ssr 31. May. 2010 - 23:34
I understand how you feel dude.

4. trojan 31. May. 2010 - 23:47
bakit naloko ka na rin ba?
pero mukhang ikaw ang nanloloko eh =)

5. ssr 01. Jun. 2010 - 00:02
oo naman tao lang ako no. :)
mas madalas yata ako naloko.

Sometimes, one's humility is enough to trigger a spark.

Anthem Number 1

Got Me Where He Wants Me

He said his tummy aches.

He hasn't eaten anything since lunch and it was already past dinner time. It was 7 in the evening when he arrived at Megamall to watch a movie with me. Screening starts in ten minutes and there was no time to buy food.

The Prince of Persia was already halfway towards the ending - just when Prince Dastan was about to be betrayed by his uncle - when he grumbled of starvation. And like instincts suddenly triggered, I jumped out from my seat and told him I'd buy something to eat.

Dashing across the cinema area and into the main concourse, I skipped the refreshments booth to look for the nearest escalator. Overtaking tens of shoppers going down, I arrived at the ground floor to find the kiosk within a breath's distance.

"Two Cheese Overload and Two Ham and Cheese cakes please." The service was prompt. I took the stairs going up to save time and within 10 minutes I was back in my seat.

"Here's your food."

"Bumaba ka pa para dito?" He inquired.

"Sus! Nakita ko lang yan sa tabi-tabi..." His concern has put a faint smile on my face.

He gave me a piece before devouring his share. With several bites, the three cakes in his bag were gone.

Locking his fingers between the spaces of my hand, I knew he was satisfied. Not only was his hunger satiated, the Japanese cakes I bought were his favorite.

Half-Year Assessment

Revive the plants in front of the house and turn a part of the compound into an ornamental garden. Relearn to play the Piano and perform Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata and Clint Mansell's Together We Live Forever on a cloudless daybreak. Cut down on food binging. Drink more water. Be more driven to go to the gym and drop the body weight to 160 before summer. Read more books. Watch more intelligent movies. Go green. Save fuel by turning off lights when not used. Go green. Cut down on plastics by carrying few things brought from convenience stores with bare hands. Learn to be bold. Worry less of the consequences of errors that were made. Assume responsibility of the household. Never wait for the utol to make a move. Sing more often. You have the voice. Drink less booze. You still dream of showing off your six packs while dancing on top of the ledge. Get in touch with your spirituality. Who cares if you begin to hear voices one day. Find a better-paying job. You deserve more for your effort. Get a license. Your loved ones may depend on your driving skills someday.

Love.

You're not getting any younger. Bitterness has begun to coat the outer layers of your heart.

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Six months and not a single accomplishment yet.
Let's see how far your journey will cover in another six months.