Progressive Love

Previously on That Nishiboy

"This time, I’m loving myself. This time, I’m going put my body on the line solely for the pleasure of it, and not because I’m looking for someone who’ll have me or because I want to take revenge on someone who hurt me. This time, I won’t care if someone calls me depraved or whatever label they decide to stick on me, because I know that I’m doing exactly what I want. Yes, this time I know exactly what I want. This time, I’m not letting anyone near my heart.

Love is unnecessary. Love is something I’m incapable of. I will write about love no more."

I Will Write About Love No More

January 7, 2014

Dear Nishiboy,

Love is something you are capable of and I will write about love with you as the subject. Behind the sleazy, chem-friendly reputation others have grown to regard you, some of us believe that the image is there to mask the fissures you still keep within. The wounds left by your first ex has yet to heal. For this reason, those who have known you from the time you have set foot outside the university, still has to see you settled down with one guy. A partner, who will love you for who you are, your past, and your flaws.

Unconditionally.

And we know you as the passionate one. You get attached to a guy within days of first contact, and disengage, without looking back when romance don't work. When others negotiate unions in secret, you tell the world how madly infatuated you are. You never give a shit to whispers. It is a pattern we have seen over and over, and when you gave up on that four-letter word whose essence has been lost to our age, I just shook my head in disbelief, knowing you will eat your words soon.

I was right.

Less than three months had passed, you sent fillers on Twitter hinting of a sea change. I even reminded you of your blog entry, of your sacred vow, written not so long ago. We scribblers of stories live in ironies. We tend to be poked at by fate and write our predicament. Annoyed by my taunt, or your resignation to the truth, my question was ignored. You went on with life and brushed off my remark.

Still, I watched you from a distance.

Not only because I am a friend, but because you're a character worth observing. A stellar creature to be awed no matter what others say behind your back. The same narrative amused me (you dated several times, your press release read). I am yet to hear the details when we get to meet.

Nonetheless, budding romance always is, a subject of conversation. Snippets of your account will reach me faster than the sound of your voice.

And we would wager on your ability to keep the romance thriving.

Eyes will be watching.

So make no mistake. Reluctance may clutter my head, but I am hoping that this is the person you are searching. It is your sheer will that holds the tide - of being a step ahead of the consequences of your lifestyle - and the way I see it, luck may run out soon. People like you do not deserve to be ruined.

And so I am placing my bets on your happiness.

News spread, and like a tempest breaking the stillness of a contemplative weekend, I heard that you have told the world - your sphere - that you're in a relationship once again. The swiftness still took us by surprise. With sincerity, we felt relieved.

May it be lasting. May his arrival bring peace and joy to your life. For if this union ends the way it begins. If this narrative tells once more of your hollow cycle, the next time you speak of love (or the refusal of it), your words will find no meaning.

Make it work. Because accept it or not, there are those who will journey with you, in this interesting chapter of your life.

Mono No Aware

"Hindi ko kayang mawala sa piling niya," He would tell me the last time we had a one-on-one drinking session at the Casa.

A week later, he would go down as one of those injured in a tragic accident that had taken the lives of seven unfortunate souls. Two of them were seated beside him at the back of the bus. With luck on his side, he was able to recover after undergoing a difficult and painful head surgery.

His lover would never leave his side. In his days of drifting (he didn't even know that I was there a day after he was transferred from the ICU), the only person who could make my friend remember was him.

The person he confessed he loved more than anyone else.



Mono no aware -  is a Japanese term for the awareness of impermanence, or transience of things, and both a transient gentle sadness (or wistfulness) at their passing as well as a longer, deeper gentle sadness about this state being the reality of life.

Patterns

Ding, the ex-boyfriend of Pilyo was rushed to the hospital early this month because of gallstones. He had to undergo surgery two days after being confined at the Medical City.

A week later, Panda found himself sitting in one of the chairs at the emergency room of the World Citi Medical Center because of swollen appendix. He too, had to undergo surgery to excise the pouch-like tube, which in pictures appeared to have grown the size of a small hand-held communication device.

On the third week of November, Papa Tagay was one of those injured in a vehicular accident. A bus lost control along Edsa and ran over several waiting commuters before slamming into another bus. While our chap wasn't among the casualties, he was seated at the back of the bus that was hit by the passenger carrier that lost its break. He cannot remember the blow, only blood dripping down his face. He was discharged at the Makati Medical Center three days later after suffering concussion. 

We thought he was already recovering.

But we were wrong.

I received a direct message on Twitter this morning from his partner telling me that Papa Tagay was once again rushed to the hospital. He was to undergo an emergency medical procedure. A clot formed somewhere in his brain and has now blocked the passage of blood. When I paid a visit at the Heart Center this afternoon, my friend was visibly weak, unable to sleep because of the sharp pain he felt.

We are still waiting for news as to the outcome of his Ventriculostomy

I do not know how to put it in words, but I see a pattern in all these unexpected surgeries. All the people subjected to the forced laceration of the skin belong to the same group who get to see each other for our weekly drinking binge. From Ding (who happens to be Santi's present partner), to Panda and now Papa Tagay, it seems the series of unfortunate events affect the ringleaders. 

Much as I don't want to think about it, but we still have eight days before the month is over. And when I look at the situation with superstitious and ominous eyes, the only ring leader left; spared from all these handiwork of an unseen hand, is none other.

But me.         

   

Smokescreen

He was a closet exhibitionist long before the others learned this fetish of his. And those who already knew didn't take it against him. 

We brushed it off, like those little quirks that pepper our dysfunctional personalities.

So when I woke up this afternoon, and read on Twitter drop tweets about a buddy who had suddenly become the talk of everyone, I had to find out who he was and what caused the sudden banter on my timeline.

"Nakakaloka lang ang pic na yun," Wrote Prodeeboy. "Never fails to be controversial."

"I must say I'm impressed with the sheer guts," Goodboybaddboii added. "Di ko kaya yun unless anonymous ako."

There were many others who made indirect references about the image, and of the person they were referring to. The comments were harmless and amusing, and would not offend the person who had the guts to show off his family's asset. After a quick check of a dozen updates about the subject, I was able to trace who the culprit was, and the deed that sent everyone blocking their eyes with their hand, while leaving a small gap to peep through their phones' screens.

"Pangako kong pa-birthday sayo amo," He posted. "Delete ko rin after 2 minutes." Attached in that microblog post was his stiff cock, shaved, and held by a hand that apparently, wasn't his.

The guy who did the exhibition was none other than Tee.

His audacity to display his manhood, when conventions dictate that it should kept hidden by all means had taken everyone by surprise. After all, he shows up during our weekly binges, and is the secret crush of many. And for the likes of me who knew him for a long time, behind his mischievous smile is a story we no longer tell. Sure he has a package that is bigger than everyone; it even probed the warm, moist holes and mouths of some guys I know.

In a sense, there's nothing controversial about the photo.



Thus, I wouldn't mind turning a blind eye to his stunt, as I was still reeling from my own fallout during last night's binge. The cock photo didn't turn me on, neither did it cause a feeling of repulsion. I see the owner as a brother. I wouldn't mind what others would say, or how people he hasn't met would talk about his antics. "Impression goes a long way," I mused.

"I'm most certain Tee won't get affected."

But Tee and I have come a long way, and no matter how assured I was that his "harmless scandal" wouldn't tarnish his image, the unspoken thoughts disturbed me. Between amusement and apathy, and people relishing their deepest fantasies seeing Tee's delight, I felt the need to relay the concern, of that fear that he and the recipient would be judged harshly by those who knew them only as a name.


"Tee, yung picture na pinost mo 2 hours na. Kala ko 2 minutes lang? Lol." I sent as SMS.

"Tae, nakatulog ako hahahaha. Salamat."

"Overexposure na. Pinagjakulan na yun ng mga pumapantasya sa iyo. Lol."

"Hahaha. nde aq maka react sa twitter... Nahiya aq bigla."

"At vukheet naman kailangan ng reaction. Haha. Parang walang nangyari lang. Ganyan."

"Para namang di namin nakita na yan no?" I sent as a follow-up message.

"Hahaha tomoh!!! Parang walang naganap. May mga DM na kasi. Hahaha..."


I deliberately maintained a light and non-intrusive tone throughout the whole exchange. At the back of my head, the goal was persuasion: to ask him to take down the picture and not feel bad about the dare. The subtle approach worked and we moved on to other trivial subjects only the two of us could laugh at. When I refreshed Tee's account halfway through the end of the conversation, the picture was gone.

And everything was back as if nothing stirred us on a quiet weekend morning.

The Architect

noun \ˈär-kə-ˌtekt\ a person who designs buildings and advises in their construction.

Wansapanataym, ang tawag nila sa akin ay Pulis aka. Sergeant-at-Arms. Ako daw kasi ang unang sumisita kapag sa inuman ay lantaran na ang landian. Sa mahabang panahon ay naging wholesome ang tagayan. Naiwasan ang kariran kahit house party ang ganap. Maliban sa ilang insidente na hindi na naulit muli, tingin ko naman ay nagampanan ko ang trabaho ng kaunti lamang ang pagkakamali. 

May mga tumiwalag subalit yun ang kanilang pinili.

Taon ang lumipas. Nadagdagan ang mga ka-table. Nawala ang distinction na Encanto, at sa halip, lahat ay welcome to join the inuman. Hindi nagtagal ay may mga nagkagustuhan; may mga nagdala ng ka-date, at may mga naganap na after-party "events" na ako mismo ay piping saksi. Tinamad na akong mag-pulis simula noon sapagkat lahat naman ay naghahanap ng kabiyak. Nagbago ang dynamics ng grupo at pati ako ay kailangang makibagay.

Now shows the Architect. Trabaho daw niya mag-inspect kung malalim ang pundasyon ng mga relasyong mabubuo. Kung match ba ang dalawang nag-iibigan at kung ang prospects ba ng samahan ay pangmatagalan. While the role is largely ceremonial (kasi naman, nagkagustuhan na bago ko pa malaman), naroon ang mga background checks at pagkukumpuni ng mga rough patches sakaling may humingi man ng aking serbisyo. Madalas man sablay pero ang leg work at counselling ay hawak ko pa rin. Sino ang makakalimot sa isang intimate na inuman, na habang bumabayo ang hangin sa labas ay pilit ko pinaglalapit ang mga pusong nanlalamig na.

Ang mga eksena ay mostly behind the scenes. Sa Viber ang sumbungan, lalo pa't hindi nagkaroon ng epekto ang match-making. Required ang face to face contact paminsan-minsan, lalo na kapag may liham na kailangan ipaabot (kagaya sa kaso ni "EJ Falcon" at "Rocco Nacino") o kaya naman mahalaga ang direct intervention lalo na kapag pusong sawi ang kailangan pakalmahin. 

There are risks to such venture. Hindi gaya sa pagpupulis na pagkatapos ng inuman ay tapos na. Naroon ang pagdudahan na may kinikilingan. Awayin dahil may pinapaboran. Pati minsan ang Architect ay napapalapit ng husto sa kanyang kliente dahil ang binitawan ng isa ay siya palang kursonada niya. It is all about learning the ropes, ang sabi nga at habang tumatagal; habang dumarami ang mga napapalagay ang loob dahil sa may kapiling na itong iba, I think the Architect is as effective as he could be.

There is no such thing as a harmonious group. Ang mga couples, minsan nagkakatampuhan or worse, nagbre-break. Ang mga nima-match-make, madalas wala palang real-life chemistry. But if there is such a role as needed in keeping the status quo; o kaya naman ay ma-control ang turn over ng mga taong darating at mawawala sa linggo-linggong tagayan, andun ang Architect to see to it na ang lahat ay nagsasaya.

Sapagkat ang mga hamon sa pagkakaibigan ay nasa tabi-tabi lamang.

Bakod

A Direct Message



Papa Joms, honestly, type mo si [insert name of guy here]? Nakita ko na picture niya. Pinakita sa akin. Ganun ang mga tipo mo.

Ay di ko siya bet. Tropa lang tingin ko sa kanya.

Crush ka niya. Tinanong ko eh. Parang mas bagay kayo. Mag-gigive way ako. Magkaibigan tayo dapat nagbibigayan.

Five years ago, a blogger had smitten me. The infatuation was so intense that he could order me to get up and leave the house at past midnight. He was drunk one night and was a bit wasted. I remember dropping him off outside his condo before telling the cab driver to take me home.

The feeling however was unrequited. I was so into him while he was open to being courted by someone else. He even sweet talked with strangers even when I was around.

One of the rivals hailed from another circle. He was a prolific writer who was good in poetry. On the day he was introduced to my love interest, the poet suddenly found his muse. The rival didn't know that someone had already staked his claim over him; that I was already well-entrenched. He also found no error in his move as the blogger and I were not a pair. What he didn't realize was he challenged my ego. Being the butch, I found him an unworthy opponent.

Romance didn't bloom between me and the blogger. As he was not ready. He just came from a painful break-up. And yet, I never spoke to the rival again. He saw the error of his ways. He even apologized for it. But the damage has been done. Learning how vengeful I am when my heart is stepped on, it has become a habit to disengage when rivals are present.

Thus, I see myself as the wimpy kid. The first to give up, when I feel others seem to be winning. But there are other accounts of how I was when someone tried to win over my partner. Once, on the dance floor, I used force to block someone's advances. I stuck with this guy who was being eyed by a much older patron. Instead of retreating, he had a taste of how it feels to be pushed around by someone half his age.

Now I understand where my buddy is coming. Given his past clashes with a another friend - a shy guy who didn't communicate his secret affection - he flirted with a boy who is already being eyed on. The boy had his hots for my buddy. The shy guy thought all along his dates with the boy would lead to romantic persuasion. The result was catastrophic. The losing guy turned on social media to vent his gripes before stepping away from our social circle. 

The fall out showed how shaky our bonds were.

In my situation, the buddy was assured that he wasn't crossing me. He has my full support despite the guy admitting his admiration - and me considering getting serious with him. But it will never prosper. And had it been a different case; of me and the unmentioned one going out, and my buddy coming into the picture, I would have the decency to tell that me and the guy are getting to know each other.

A true friend will cease advancing and would merely observe from a distance.

Because a love that is meant to be should never be fought over. It has to grow without rivals and must not be tempered by distractions. For when a blossoming romance entertains another bee, it shows his unreadiness to commit. Worse, it will expose his past replete with breaches of infidelity.

This has been my revelation to Papa Tagay over buckets of beer last weekend. That last summer, I dated someone who had secret hots for him. Had the attraction grew roots and stems, and the charming boy got my friend's attention, I would thank Papa Tagay for bailing me. It would have been a heartbreaking relationship had I pursued.

I would never wish to be toyed around.



This is my creed for sometime now. Buddies over my heart: Give way when there's no certainty of affection.

Tomorrow's love can wait a little longer. 

Friends and their budding love lives have to come first.

Siya lang may crush, hindi ako. Jusme dapat binakuran ko na nung umamin ka. Go lang. Iba ang gusto ko.

Nagdadalawang isip tuloy ako.

Huwag mo akong isipin. Olats ang one-way attraction.

The Sound Of One Hand Clapping

Our searchee number one attended a KTV party a month ago. He was solo when he showed up. But after a few hours, he tagged along a new guy. Someone he invited at the last minute. Searchee one said, it's the first time they met. And as the night wore on, they were seen in a corner holding hands. Even whispering sweet nothings. 

Observers worried it might just be a night-long affair. Something, searchee one was good at doing. But as the days rolled by, the couple were seen going out. They posted messages on Twitter telling their activities, and after two weeks of getting to know each other, news spread that they have formed a union.

A domino effect would take effect.

-

Now our searchee number two broke up with his boyfriend of many years. He had to let go because of love. In his words, his ex's life choices would force them to adjust to a long distance relationship. Something he cannot do. So searchee two had to let go, and in his partner's absence, he started attending our weekly binges.

He never missed it.

It is in these one of our drinking weekends that he met a newcomer. Someone introduced to our side of the table for the first time.

Searchee two would later say that it was the newcomer who sent the first direct message. His claim, I side with as I recall remarking how cute the newcomer was, but searchee two paid no attention. In just a week after they started talking, the newcomer would sleep in searchee's pad. They would dine in and out, talk over Facetime, had Twitter-vised fights, do sleep overs again and attend the weekend get together as pair.

Soon, they too would announce on social media, "kami na."

-

One by one, drinking buddies I go out every weekend got hitched. There is Panda and Amorsolo, whose secret trysts may have resulted in some friendships to end. But they weaved their love story well, their attachment blossomed and has now become permanent. Jaysome found his prince at some distant realms nobody in the group knew existed. And while Team JoozyJake decided to lie low, with Jake's work assignment abroad, everyone who knew them believe they are a power couple.

These unions happening all at once had a profound effect on those few remaining unattached. Where spaces didn't exist, now honeymoons have to give way to collective merriment. Some, no longer show up despite repeated invitations. And while we try to understand the absence; the pervading silence among couples, whose songs and stories once made joy to our boring days, there is no denial that they now lead guarded lives.

Feeling left out, one has to create ways to shake off this loneliness. No wonder, I was on Wechat searching for digital affections. The troubles I used to dodge I now embrace with alarming desperation. If there is one point I felt so disarmed knowing lives have changed, the month was an eye-opener. All of a sudden, reflections on how I missed so many opportunities to love came to haunt me with loss and regret. Singlehood has now become a struggle I no longer believe, and while shards remain locked with the past, the future stays bleak as I feel my unspoken fondness to some people eventually turn them away.

Leaving me to question my self-esteem.

-

June was the month I started feeling the chink in the armor; where the lullaby of human longings bedlam with domestic and career issues. It was the month I wasted time on distractions and showed off some stuff that didn't need to be seen - especially by strangers. And to cap it off, a social experiment took place to know if joy can be found in a single tablet. For a few euphoric hours, it felt bliss. I came crashing just when I realize it was the break I needed.

Still, good graces let me find my center, my worst fears stayed in the domain of fiction, and I remained in pursuit of abstinence, in spite of the free access to the tools of lust. While questions still linger as to why some "interests" cease talking, comfort comes when reason takes over and decry my unreadiness for romantic engagement.

All is well for now, and for couples-friends whose lives deeply affected my own. As I return solo to the spot where others found love, and for some, who found it again, it is my sincerest wish that theirs multiply in years, and they get to know each other in ways the pasts had never done.

1:30a, June 30, 2013

Ninang

Masayang nagsasayaw si Bunso kasama si Shattershards malapit sa stage nang mapansin ko ang lalaki sa aming likuran. 

Maputi ang binata, nasa mid-twenties ang edad at ang mga mata nito'y nakatingin sa aking inaanak. Ramdam ko na siya ay naaakit. Hindi nga lang nito alam kung paano magpapakilala.

Nahuli ko ang binata na pilit inaabot ang balikat ni bunso. Magalaw ang kanyang pagsasayaw kaya't hindi nito napansin ang pagdampi ng kamay ng tigahanga. Umulit pa ang lalaki ng isang beses, ngunit ito ay muling nabigo. 

Sa pagkakataong iyon ay ako na ang kumuha sa kanyang kamay. Ipinatong ko ito sa balikat ng aking kasama sabay pihit ng buong katawan nito upang makaharap ang binata. 

"Go dance with him," utos ko na may pilyong ngiti sa mukha. Sunod-sunuran naman si Bunso na tila alam na walang patutunguhan ang kanyang pag-kontra. 

Nagsayaw ang dalawa at sa aking kinaroroonan ay mukhang bagay na bagay sila. Magkasingtangkad, guwapo, at parehong may ipagmamalaking katawan. Sa piring ng usok at laser lights ay naaninag kong magkadikit ang katawan ng mga binata. Bumulong ang lalaki sa kanyang kasayaw. Si Bunso naman ay sabay turo sa akin, na tila nagpapahiwatig na ako ang kanyang kausapin sa kanyang binabalak.

"Puwede ko ba siya i-kiss?" Paalam sa akin ng binata. Ako naman ay tumango sabay turo ng aking hintuturo sa aking pisngi.

"Sa lips..." Paglilinaw niya. Muli ko naman diniin ang daliri ko sa aking pisngi.

Walang nagawa ang binata kaya't patuloy na nagsayaw ang dalawa. Makailang ulit na hinalikan ng lalaki si Bunso sa pisngi, habang ako naman ay nagsawalang bahala. "Trip-trip lang," sa isip ko. Tutal, pati ang Ninang ay ipinaris rin naman sa inaanak ng iba. 

Ngunit sa tuwing ilalapat ng lalaki ang kanyang labi at makikita kong umiiwas si Bunso, naroon ang mumunting pag-aalala. Paano kung maka-iskor ang binata samantalang hindi naman ito ang ibig ng inaanak ko? Paano kung sa biglang paghawi ng mga tao ay dumaan ang prinsipe na aming hinahanap?

Hindi nagtagal at ako na rin ang umakbay kay Bunso, at sa muli ay pinihit ko ito paharap sa akin. Walang nagawa ang kasayaw kundi bumalik sa kanyang mga barkada. Bakas ang disappointment at pagkabitin sa kanyang mukha. Party Pooper man kung titingnan, pero sadyang may limit lang talaga ang flirting lalo pa't hindi naman gusto ng isa ang kanyang kapiling.

Awaking Hibernation

Encanto Meal

Maaga pa lang ay nakaabang na ako sa labas ng bahay. Any moment kasi ay darating na ang caravan ni Daddy Fox. Kasama si Papa Tagay, napagkasunduan na susunduin namin si Rain Darwin sa airport. Naisipan kasi nitong magbakasyon, makalimutan man lang sandali ang pangungulila sa ibang bansa.

Hindi katagalan ang biyahe mula Santa Mesa patungong Terminal 1. Dumating kami tatlumpung minuto matapos lumapag ang eroplanong sakay ang aming kaibigan galing Singapore.

Ilang sandali pa ay nakita na namin si Pilyo. Naka-black itong polo at mamahaling jeans. Kapansin-pansin ang pangangayayat nito't pagpusyaw ng balat. Tanda na hindi sanay ang batak niyang katawan sa malamig na klima ng Timog Australia. 

"Na-miss ko ang traffic ng Manila." Kami namang mga pasahero'y asar na asar na sa bottleneck sa Baclaran.

"Ang kaunti ng tao dun." Ang sabi niya sa amin. "Kayo kayo rin lang ang magkikita sa tram."

Maraming pasalubong mga kuwento si Pilyo. Kuwentong ilan sa amin ay hindi matitikman dahil kung papalaring mangibang-bayan ay hindi doon ang pipiliin naming puntahan. Laman ng kanyang tinastas na backpack ay mga karanasan sa kanyang pakikipagsapalaran. Naroong layuan siya ng kapwa kababayan na mga TNT at nagtatago sa immigration. Nandoon rin ang mag-isa niyang pagpi-picnic makalabas man lang sa tirahang kahit kailan ay hindi niya magiging tahanan.

Patuloy ang daloy ng kuwento - na parang tubig na bumubuhos mula sa shower nozzle - sa isang public pool kung saan walang sawa niyang sinisipat ang mga puti na kung tawagin niya'y "Bel-Ami." 

"Ang pupula talaga." Kapansin-pansin ang ngiti sa kanyang mukha. "At ang lalaki pa."

"Kawawa si Baby P pag-uwi nito." Bulong sa akin ni Papa Tagay. Hindi na namin pinagpatuloy ang mga kuro-kuro ng aming malikot na diwa.

Matapos ang umagahan sa Max's ay nagsipaguwian na rin ang barkada. Si Rain Darwin naman na hinatid namin sa kanyang bahay ay haharap sa mga iniwang negosyong ramdam namin ay hindi na niya babalikan. Marahil ay hindi lingid sa kanya ang pagtamlay ng grupo. Sa kanyang pag-alis, dalawang beses lang nagsama-sama ang tropa. Pilitan pa matuloy lang ang inuman sa dating tagpuan.

Sampung araw. Iyon ang itatagal ni Pilyo sa bansa. At sa mga araw na daraan, anumang oras magtawag ng lakad ang balikbayan ay isa sa amin ang sasama. 

Kung puwede lang sana, kaming lahat.

Sapagkat sa kanyang muling paglipad ay di malayong manamlay ulit ang grupo. At gaya ng dati, magkakanya-kanya ang bawat isa. At muling mananaig ang paghimbing ng mga Engkanto. 

Tagay-Mo-Pre

"What's Mia Patro?"

Ang text mo sa akin isang madaling araw. Madali lang naman sagutin ang iyong tanong. Kahit na magnose-bleed ka pa sa aking reply. Pero sa pagkakataong iyon, pinili ko ang bumalik sa pagtulog - this time - ng may ngiti sa aking labi. 

I remember how it all started. Sa isang gay dating website yun. Pinagtatawanan natin yung isang thread founder dahil sa kanyang press-release na isa siyang "str8." I told you the qualities of a very straight-acting person, and it takes one to know one. Ramdam ko ang angas mo. Dagdagan mo pa ng hirit na isa kang dakilang tomador. Natapos ang gabi na nagkapalitan tayo ng number. All we need is to meet up and have a drink kung magkakaroon ng pagkakataon. 

Yaman rin lang na marami akong oras kaya pinaunlakan ko ang iyong imbitasyong makipag-inuman. "I'm wearing elephant pants with glitters." Sabi ko. "Naka pink-shirt ako kaya kung hindi mo trip ay umuwi ka na." Biro ko pa. Alam ko naman na anuman ang sabihin ko, hindi ka maniniwala. If I'm not mistaken, narinig mo na ang boses ko sa phone. Walang makakalimot sa amin na iyon ang iyong paraan upang i-screen ang mga taong hangad mong kitain.

And I would remember the Red Horse. Peste yun! Naka-anim yata tayo habang makulimlim sa labas, ang lansangan ay puno ng mga estudyante, at sa loob naman ng billiard bar kung saan mo ako dinala ay puno ng mga frat boys na kulang na lang ay magrambulan dahil lang natabig ng isa ang bote ng beer sa kabilang billiard table. Ganunpaman, hanep lang ang turning point sa buhay ko nung hapong iyon.

Sapagkat sa katanghalian ng aking paghahanap, isa ikaw sa una kong natagpuan.

Mabilis ang paglipas ng mga taon. Na-impress ako ng sobra - sa mga pinakita mo sa akin kaya pinili kong sundan ka saan ka man mapadpad. Napasama ako sa Encanto dahil sa iyo at doon ay naging kabilang tayo sa isang grupong ituturing nating pamilya pagdating ng panahon. Hindi man tayo mag-usap madalas, alam ko na nandiyan ka lang. Magkatampuhan man kayo ng isa sa mga kasama natin, nawa'y malaman mo sana na sa mga oras na iyon, wala sa plano ko ang tumalikod sa iyo. 

Alam ko rin naman hindi mo kami tatalikuran.

And my belief proved me right. With just a three-worded text, andami mong pinarealize sa akin. Pinatunayan mo na ang pagkakaibigan ay hindi nasusukat sa dalas ng inyong pag-uusap, pagkikita, o kaya naman ay pagsasaliksik sa mga buhay-buhay. It's about the memories. Yung pagsasamahan. At habang iniisip ko ang blog na ito, isa lang ang tumatak sa akin.

Habangbuhay kita magiging tropa.

And I went back to where it all started. Yung unang meet-up natin. Yung mga hinayupak na Red Horse. Yung iniwan mo ako bigla para mag banyo at napilitan akong kantahin yung "Wherever You Will Go" kahit tumba na ako sa kalasingan. Alam mong hanggang ngayon, yun pa rin ang alam kong kantahin sa tuwing nagvi-videoke tayo. Yung pinakilala mo ako sa mga tropa mong lesbyana - at sa una at huling pagkakataon, nakapasok ako sa mga lumang dormitory malapit sa Letran. At higit sa lahat, may isang distinction ka na kaunting-kaunti lang ang nakalampas. I won't go into details, but so you would know, bilang lang sa daliri ang binalikan ko't ginawang kaibigan.

I won't reply to your text. But to answer your question, Mia Patro means My Father in Esperanto. Duguin na ang ilong mo, pero tiyak ko, sanay ka na sa mga ka-weirdohan ko. At para malaman mo na hinding-hindi ako nakakalimot - sa lungkot, saya, sa mga kuwentong nakakarating sa akin, sa mga harutan natin kapag nagkakatabi tayo sa upuan tuwing may inuman sa Timog, sa mga bagay-bagay na pinalampas ko dahil kaibigan kita,

Papa Tagay.

Some friendships outlive the place, where bonds were planted and first grew roots.

Backpacker: Santa Ana, Cagayan

First Part: A Traveler's Tale

"Baabaa! I have something to tell you ..."

It's past 7 in the morning and I was standing outside the Eastern Hawaii Hotel in the town's Centro district. Robbed of sleep, I was waiting for the security guards to let me in so I could speak at the front desk and ask about their room rates.

"Balak sana kitang i-surprise at sabihing nasa Cagayan ako, kaso I'm in a bit of trouble."

"Cagayan what!?!" I am paraphrasing our conversation.

"Santa Ana, check it out on the map."  

After a brief pause, JC blurted "Ang layooooooooo!!" My partner couldn't believe where my feet had carried me. "Grabe ka haaaaa!"  

"Gusto ko sana mag Skype tayo habang iniingit kita na nasa tabing dagat ako, kaso the resort I booked the previous day has problems with their WiFi connection."  

"Now I have to look for another place to stay."

There was no doubt that I am out of the city. Even the cool breeze suggest I am in a place never before touched by smog and fumes that I have grown accustomed everyday.

The Florida bus arrived at daybreak, and it stopped right in front of the town market. Unsure of where Jotay Resort is, a trike volunteered to take me there. Not knowing the place was only a few blocks away, I paid thirty pesos when it should have been fifteen. I could even walk if not for the stray dogs and the unlit unpaved roads along the way.

First thing in the morning and I was hoodwinked. Even the guard at the resort told me to come back because their rooms are fully occupied. Apparently my contact didn't tell him about my arrival, despite sending an SMS while in transit to confirm my reservation. 

Talk about hassle. I couldn't imagine this is the treatment I would get after coming all the way from Manila.

15 Hours Earlier

"Pilyo punta akong Cagayan. Ikaw muna bahala sa kanila ha?" I was referring to the Encantos.

"Ay putanginamu, hindi nga?! Seryoso ka?" Even my closest friends wouldn't buy my story.

Kasi naman, never in Encantos history did I show up with a huge backpack before lunchtime. The guys couldn't even convince me to join their out of town trips. And here I am, telling Pilyo that I'm going solo and that, it would take an entire day (and night) to get to the tip of Luzon.

"Ano namang naisipan mo at bakit pupunta ka dun?" I had to explain the wisdom behind the pilgrimage. It was my heart leading the way. Lol.

"Ikaw na bahala magsabi kay Dadi ah. Hindi ito dapat malaman ni JC." 

"Iba ka rin mag-trip no?" I know. For someone who climbs the ledge of a dance floor out on a whim, my mind is wired quite differently.

"Siyanga pala, I gave your number at home. In case lang magkaproblema ako dun." And with that, I disappeared from Pilyo's view.

Little Spot of Paradise (Ako lang ang nagkumot sa loob ng bus!)

The bus ride is a story in itself. Like a collection of tapestries adorning a wall, each piece tells a part of the journey.

It began in Espana shortly before 1. The bus lurched forward despite the disarray of cars along the road. A stow-away missionary preached the good news to ambivalent passengers. Her sympathetic voice eased the troubled spirit. Envelopes were passed after her soulful performance. Lacking spare change, guilt struck while returning my donation coupon with three pieces of silver coins.

I should have given her a twenty peso bill. But I had none.

"Babawi na lang po ako ate." I could not even look at her in the eye.

As the bus merged with the sojourners heading north, I put on my ear phones and listened to Jam 88.3. I forgot to bring my Nano's charger so I had to ration the use of the gadget. The two-lane expressway stretched on forever, with rice fields - some still under flood waters, while others appear like a giant green carpet - went as far as the eyes could see.

In Tarlac, mats of palay were laid along the sides of the national highway. They were left there to dry. The pink bus would occasionally overtake a kuliglig with sacks of rice stacked behind its trailer. It's harvest season and everyone in the plains made themselves useful. Even the year-long tambays. If only I paid more attention to the naked, ripped and sweaty laborers I caught glimpse at the warehouses, I would have lasted the entire night without dumping anything on my tummy.

But one thing I found truly amazing was Jollibee's long arm stretching out to the heartlands of the small towns. Who would have thought the fast food chain has branches in obscure places like Guimba and Talavera. Heck, I don't even know they appear on the map. For all my expectations of a rural poblacion, the signs of civilization are truly heartening.

Pitstop One, SCTEX Tarlac Exit

It was getting dark when the flower bus began its ascent towards the treacherous Dalton Pass. At 3,000 feet up in the mountains, this is the highest portion of the Maharlika Highway. Flanked by the Caraballo in the east and the Sierra Madre in the west, the road follows a brook that drains into the Manila Bay.

But this wasn't the stream the locals knew just a few weeks ago.

The mountains glisten under the low sun like pale emeralds in the distance. But as you go closer, only weeds and flimsy shrubs grow on some of its brown slopes. Gone are the massive trees cut down to build houses. Even newly planted seedlings are uprooted to make firewood.

No wonder, when strong rains come, mud slosh down instead of water. Even parts of the highway disappears as stones tumble from the peaks. The dry riverbed - once littered with boulders as big as dump trucks - are now covered with silt. With the river much shallower, the water that should have merged with the bay in days lingered in Bulacan for weeks.

The nerve of us to complain about the mess we made.

I felt sorry for the mountains, and the trees that used to hold the earth with their mighty roots. I felt sorry for the fields, inundated, with crops swept away instead of being harvested. I felt sorry for the rain, that began to fall and made the winding road more slippery. For instead of sprinkling life, the rains are feared for being the harbinger of death. I wish I could have done something to the destruction around me. But I was reduced to being a silent witness as the bus push back to the lowlands, on the other side of the mountains. 

Hot, Spicy Mami and C2 Green, Dalton Pass, Nueva Vizcaya

By nightfall, everywhere I look, the roads are deserted. The poblacions themselves become ghost towns as the bus continues to roll towards the tip of the island. I dozed off in Nueva Vizcaya, and was stirred back to lucidness in Santiago, Isabela. I should have left the bus, according to my press release to my mom. But instead, a passenger who took a leak at a gas station almost got left behind.

Lucky for him, his wife alerted the bus driver.

At past eleven, habit follows that I should have arrived home. G-Talk should have recognized my name and Baabaa, who is busy at work should have received my hello message. But instead of following the routine, I was in the middle of nowhere, where even distant, lonely lights refuse to shine.

As the final ploy unfolds, a single SMS message covered my grand deception:

"Baabaa, hope u are doing okay. I'm having problems with my internet connection." Notice the absence of the word home. "Online na lang ako when my connection returns. Labyuu!" The partner didn't bother to reply.

It turns out, he would surprise me by calling my phone at the strike of midnight. Weasel. We agreed to follow the Atlantic time instead of mine. Siya rin pala magbre-break ng agreement.

Good thing, I was drowned in my own alternative music and the thoughts of the sea that I didn't hear my phone ring. He sent a text message which I refused to reply. Even the missed call with his number, I pretended not to see. Let JC think his Baaboo fell asleep. It would buy me some time.

Florida Bus Station, Tuguegarao, 2 am

The clock is ticking as my destination remains a full sleep away. In the cover of my own fabrication, the last leg of the trip would be best remembered with a lower back pain from staying in the same sitting position for hours; a male seatmate tossing over and over because of the cold air blasting from the overhead AC, a runaway tooth ache threatening to spoil my getaway, sleep or any semblance of it as the road signs tell that we are still more than a hundred kilometers away from Jollibee Aparri.

Like the very long blog entry you are reading right now, I was beginning to feel that I went on a road trip any sane person would refuse to go. Unless he got days to spare or is a travel writer by profession. I should have known better, it was different on the map. One look, and there you are in the coast, while in real earth, it took more than an hour from Aparri before we spotted the sea.

The hippie bus, that left Manila the day before accelerates like it was chasing darkness. The sky, while being lit by the moon hints that it was giving up the night. The fluorescent lights inside the bus were switched on, and the welcome arc outside says "Welcome, Santa Ana, Cagayan." Finally, we have arrived. A few more minutes and we would carry our bags, step out of the bus for the last time and embrace our destination.


Fifteen Minutes After Arrival:


"Sir kung gusto niyo, intayin niyo na lang muna si Topher dumating. Nandito na yun ng mga 6:30." I checked my phone and the clock tells its 5:20.

"Upo muna kayo dito," The guard lead me to the porch in front of the beach.

First thing I did was to open my laptop to see if the Wi-Fi really worked. I also got hold of my contact's personal number. It didn't matter if I had to wake him up an hour before the start of his shift.

A deal is a deal.

Having been initially denied entry to the place I sought refuge, I also learned that a password was required before I could access the resort's Internet connection. Tophe would still have to send me the access codes and I was growing really impatient.

Rather than get depressed, or let the feelings of exhaustion sink in, I left the resort to cross the street. The sound of waves lapping up against the shore was too hard to ignore. There, I let my sneakers feel the fine sands beneath my feet. As I look up in the sky, the horizon breaks revealing a crimson delight. While across the channel, the scenic Palaui Island emerges behind the mist like a curtain is being lifted to bring to view the town's main attraction.

"At the very least, I am standing on a beach, right at the beginning of the world." I consoled myself while taking my first picture of the sea.  

After risking my mind and body to leap out of the box, my journey at long last, comes to an end.


- tobecontinued -

Return To The Dance Floor First Part

October 1, 2011
Top Grill, Jupiter Street

"Inom pa tayo!" Jap Nishi insisted. Three bottles of San Mig Light would never quench his thirst. I was told this guy could down six bottles of Red Horse without becoming a casualty. The last time we were in an inuman session at Rain Darwin's place, he didn't even get tipsy.

Jap and I went to a videoke party arranged by Poi and the gang. I would have went there alone but knowing that YJ would be coming, I decided to tag the Encanto along. I wanted the two of them to meet. After all, it's been a while since they saw each other.  

The party was fun and I'm so glad to return to my old pals again. Despite the fallout last June, people were able to overcome their differences and see the depth of our bonds. In fact, the bloggers hardly changed, except for DN, who have become more outgoing and confident since the last time we met. He opened the videoke night with a theme song from Pokemon.

Unfortunately, the party had to end early. Wiwik and Curiouscat needed to go to work that morning and the new tanders were already sleepy. The gay attendant barged at the door and asked if we still wanted to have an extension. Since nobody asserted that the party should continue, we paid our bill and decided to go our separate ways.  

But not for Nishiman and I.

The last time I got drunk, I went all the way from a cousin's birthday bash in Bicutan to Fox's place in Novaliches. Imagine the distance I had to cover just to have a shot of Empi Light. Not to mention, it was already past midnight, I was tipsy and I didn't even take a cab. Adik lang. The party I attended before that ended at 5 in the morning. For these reasons, I somehow agree with Jap. At 2 am, it's still too early to call it a night.  

Now the question is, where to go. A quiet watering hole won't do since I would become the night's "El Tumbador." Besides, it's no fun talking emo shit. Not with someone heartbroken. At the back of my head, Progressive House beats bounced off my imaginary boom-box. And I know a perfect antidote for a swelling heartache. Like I said to Pexer named No Label Noise on Facebook just a few weeks ago, I'm already a clubber when he was in high school. 

Whatever trappings I have lie in a dormant state.

After the question of going out has been resolved, the next issue to agree at was the venue. Jap didn't care whether its Malate or Metrowalk, as long as the place overflowed with beer. Meanwhile, I initially avoided stepping foot at any establishment packed with gays. Not until I have forgiven my past sins. But because of my limited knowledge of straight bars, it seems a confrontation with my history was imminent. To narrow the options, there was O-Bar and Chelu. Palawan was out of the picture and so was the pricey BED, which I've heard is not as fun as it used to be when it used to occupy a small corner of the courtyard. 

Then out of nowhere, O-Bar Julia Vargas came to mind and the good memories I had with that place. I recall once, it was the exiles' home after they decided to abandon Orosa for good. Meanwhile, while the crowd somehow were notoriously snub than the ones in Malate, I made some nice acquaintance there, and I left the Eastside club with a spotless reputation. It should be enough reason for me to go back. 

"Mas malapit ba sa inyo ang O-Bar Ortigas?" I asked Jap.

"Yup, mga 120 lang ang pamasahe sa cab unlike 240 sa Malate." So we cover the distance now by the taxi fare we pay to the cab driver.

"Sige, wait lang, may tawagan lang ako." Jap meanwhile went to a nearby ATM to get extra funds.

"U out sweetie," I sent to an old friend through SMS.  He didn't reply immediately.

After I withdrew additional cash to support my nightout, my impatience had gotten over me. Instead of waiting for a text message, I called his number.

"Oy Kane, party ka tonight?" He was out, indeed, with his girlfriends.

"Jap Nishi and I are going to O-Bar Ortigas. Hope to see you there." 

And after ending my call, I crossed the street and hailed a cab going to Julia Vargas. Jap of course, was trailing behind and was eager for his drink. Time check was 2:15. The party was just starting.

-tobecontinued

Fever

Ang fearless forecast ni Mugen last Saturday sa inuman ng mga Engkantos ay magiging kulelat ang pambato ng Philippines sa Miss Universe Beauty Pageant. So what kung nasa Top 15 siya, Thank You Girl pa rin ang award ng ating kandidata.

Unlike Miss Venus Raj na inapi muna at nilapastangan ng Binibining Pilipinas Charities bago pinadala sa pageant, Shamcey Supsup has basically no story to tell. Walang drama or struggle na todo relate ang lahat kaya naman ang buong sangkabadingan ay lukewarm ang reception sa kanya.

The Missosologists are betting for Miss Ukraine, while the Las Tres Estrellas were for Miss Greece. I for one had already pinned my hopes with Miss USA because I found her elegant and beautiful. Ang mga Engkantos naman ay walang say sa kung sino ang dapat patungan ng crown, except that they are planning to copy that YouTube Video na sumikat last year.  

Tatapatan daw nina Pilyo, Papa Tagay, Rocco Sison at ni Fox yung mga tili at tambling with matching tears of joy nung mga bading.

  

Like I always did in the past, I would just sit in a corner and let the mainstream gays revel at the beauty pageant. Sino ba naman ako, hindi ko nga alam kung sino yung contestant natin sa Miss Universe before Venus Raj. Besides, with the odds stacked against us, I'd rather spend my time poking fun at the yearly habits of gay people during this time of the year.

Konting konti na lang, maari na magdeclare ng national holiday ang gobyerno tuwing sasapit ang coronation night. Sa dami ba naman ng nagle-leave of absence sa tuwing oras na ng telecast, better to let everyone enjoy the show kesa naman patagong nagsisipaglaho ang mga bakla. At this rate, it's not impossible to think na a third ng male population ng bansa ay maging swingers by 2015. Even the President of the Republic might be a closetta by 2020.

When I was in high school, nobody bothered to watch beauty pageants. Men would say they're just looking forward to the swimsuit competition, while the ladies, hindi ko actually alam ang reason nila for watching. Kids like us watched the show because it was an international competition. Kailangan daw "suportahan" ang pambato ng bansa.  Besides, enjoy naman talaga yung parade of colors diba?

Who would have thought those kids would grow up to become beauconeras one day.

More than the fun and the festivities, the growing tradition of beauty pageant watching tells something about us. Before, it was the effeminates and the parloristas who would rally behind the candidates. Kiburlah na ang sasabihin ng iba, basta dapat ang Pilipinas ay well-represent.

But now, things are starting to change.

I asked a gay colleague earlier kung ready na siya for Miss Universe. Siyempre ang sabi niya oo. We talked about Miss Supsup pati na rin yung signature walk niya nung pre-pageant. Apparently, he doesn't know about the walk. So ako naman na well-informed ang nagbigay ng link. To be honest, it was the Tsunami Walk that caught my attention. It was sweeping, revolutionary, at shit, napako ang tingin ko sa liyad at giling ng balakang ni Shamcey.

So there, life as we know it will grind to a halt at 9 am. And for the first time in recent memory, I have decided to throw my support and be one with my brothers and sisters in watching this yearly event. If ever Shamcey wins the crown, tatalbugan ko ang mga engkanto at pag-aaralan ko talaga yang Tsunami Walk na yan. If not, dating gawi ulit. Babalik ako sa pagka-straight, magbubuhat ng bakal sa gym at tatantanan na ang pagga-gay speak sa Twitter. 

But yes, you heard it right. I will be tuning in to Miss Universe tomorrow morning.

Jollieboie

To remind ourselves that some bonds stay for life.

Quote:
Endymionn wrote on 03-27-2002 10:58 PM:

Pex Is Back!


Hula ko katatapos mo lang basahin ang pm sa iyo ni Giosport at ni Greggytorned, o baka naman ito ang inuna mo.


Sana meron ka nang text kapag nabasa mo ito. Ewan ko kung nasaan ako, umaakyat kaya sa PICC, nasa bahay nakatunganga o kung nasaang lupalop naghahanap ng sarili.


Halos 2 weeks rin palang nawala ang pex... bilang ko kasi, three weeks na rin tayong magka-tropa eh.


Hah tanda ko pa noon, huling araw ng pex sabi ko babarkadahin ko si Econmajor para maging ka-tropa natin, ilang araw mula ngayon, kung nandito lang siya sa Manila makukuha ko na rin PM niya.


Wala lang, nakakamiss lang ang lahat.


Imagine kasama kita halos isang buong linggo - kuwentuhan, pinag-uusapan yung mga cb (callboys) at mga prospects (ka-trip) nila, asaran, lahat halos ng puwedeng pag-usapan nadaplisan na natin eh. hehe


Nakakamiss mag-mall na kasama ka. Tingin ko tuloy, ayaw ko munang umapak ng Meg (Megamall) tsaka Shangri-la dahil maalala lang kita. Sa tuwing maririnig ko yung Ortigas Center ikaw kaagad ang papasok sa isip ko, "Buong linggo naming inikot ni Jollieboie yun ah!"

source

Nakakapagod, magastos, at kung minsan nakakasayang oras man pero sa lahat ng lakad natin, enjoy ako na kasama ka. Tingin ko kasi ikaw lang ang makakaintindi sa akin eh - - ikaw lang ang nakakakilala kung sino talaga ako.


Sulit ring sabihin ang lahat, malaki ang tiwala ko sa iyo eh. Lagi mo sana tandaan iyon. Badtrip, wala ka nang credit, nasanay na rin ako na halos nag-te-text tayo araw araw eh. Gigising ako sa umaga, ti-tingnan ang cell, umaasa nandun yung text mo. Hay buhay nga naman.


Shensa na kung senti ako pare ... tingin ko kasi... Nasa sistema na kita eh - - Parte ka na ng buhay ko sa loob ng tatlong linggo nating pagiging magkaibigan.


Siguro sa isang banda, takot rin akong mawala ka... pero alam ko, patungo rin tayo doon. Kahit ilang beses ko man ipanalangin na sana huwag mangyari iyon.


Closeness is fleeting, distance is inevitable as they say. Sooner or later, all of this would be just in our minds. Hanging there, maybe never to happen again.


Despite all my hopes that we would be buddies for life... I guess that is impossible. Three weeks, anong panama nun sa mga nakasama mo na ng ilang buwan, lalo na ilang taon. Hindi rin naman ganun kalalim ang pinagsamahan natin. Bago pa lang naman tayo nagkakakilala eh.


Pero bihira lang makahanap ng katulad mo tol eh. Siguro nga hindi pa kita ganun kakilala kaya ganito ang tingin ko sa iyo. Pero andami mo nang hinawa sakin e.


Tama na siguro itong senting ito, nasenti ko na rin naman lahat sa iyo haha. Basta, just in case tol, just in case we woke up one day hanging out with someone else's company. Always remember this:


Nag-enjoy ako sa lahat ng gimik natin, pinangiti mo ako sa mga text na ipinadala mo...


Parekoy,






You're the first and only one, who came closest to my heart.


Ingats ka lagi, hanggang sa susunod na pagkikita.

Lumawak na naman ang mundo mo dahil sa akin.

Welcome, Parekoy.

Beyonce

Minsan sa inuman ng mga engkantos maraming linggo na ang nakakaraan ay napag-usapan ang love life ng isa naming kasama. Tanong ni Daddy Fox kung bakit hindi pinapakilala ni bunso ang kanyang kabiyak samantalang mukhang masaya naman ito sa kanyang relasyon. Kahit si Pilyo ay tikom bibig rin. Marahil ay alam niya ang sagot ngunit dahil nalimot na niya ang kanyang simula,  (at puwede ring hindi niya ito tinahak nang maging sila ni Papa Dingding) ay pinili niya na huwag munang humusga.

Hindi biro ang umibig lalo na sa kapwa lalaki. Naroon ang pride, ang pangamba ng pangangaliwa, ang pagsang-ayon at hindi pagsang-ayon sa ugali ng isa,  ang demand sa attention na madalas ay ignored ng isang lalaki. Nasanay kasi na sa kanya umiikot ang mundo.

Dalawang taon ang binilang ko bago naturuan si "dear heart" na mag-stay put. Sa dami ng kailangang isuko, hindi mo alam kung saan  magco-compromise. Sa oras pa lang na kadalasan ay wala ka sa sarili ay kailangan mo pa hatiin sa kabiyak, kung hindi ay hahanapin niya ito sa iba. Maraming kumplikasyon na pilit natin ginagawang simple. Ngunit sa huli, ang mga maliliit na bagay pa ang nagiging dahilan ng malalaking away.  

Kaya naman naroon ang barkada para umalalay. Sila ang nagiging tulay upang lubos na maintindihan ang iniisip ng kabiyak. Aminin man natin o hindi ngunit may mga bagay na tanging ka-tropa lang ang nakakaalam. Depende ito kung gaano tayo ka-open sa  partner. Pero sa simula, totally dependent tayo sa kaibigan nila upang malaman ang kanilang state of mind.  

Lalo na sa oras ng di pagkakaunawaan.

Naging ugali ko - noong unang panahon - na ipakilala sa kaibigan ang seryosong ka-date. Marahil sa iba ginagawa itong  pang-inggit  (lalo na kung super hot ang iyong bagong boylet)  pero sa akin ay naging batayan ito kung ano ang magiging feel ng ka-tropa.  Tutal, when all appears to fall apart, isa sa kanila ang inaasahang magda-damage control gaya ng ginawa ni Papa John (ni Baabaa) nang una kaming nag-away ni mahal.

Don't get me wrong,  mayroon tayong mga pansariling dahilan kung bakit pinipili nating hindi ipakilala ang kabiyak sa katropa.  Naroon ang pangamba ng ahasan at bonggang-bonggang intrigahan (na balita ko ay nangyayari sa ibang grupo)  ang iba naman ay may motibong hahayaan ko na lang manatiling bulong sa hangin kesa maparatangan ng maling assumptions. 

But if there is one thing I've learned and practiced sa buong time na ako ay umiibig. Iyon ay ang maging connected at friendly sa kaibigan ng asawa sa paniwalang your common bonds will reinforce the relationship.  Within a month nang maging kami ni Baabaa, nakilala niya ang bestfriend kong si Jolliboie habang ako naman ay nag reach out sa mga kaibigan ng aking kabiyak. Hindi  ko alam kung gaano ka-effective ang we-against-the-world na set-up pero dahil sa liit ng inyong mundo (at dahil sa dami niyong kabangga) I think it doesn't work most of the time.

"So bakit nga hindi pa pinapakilala ni bunso yung partner niya?"  Tanong ni Dadi Fox.

"Eh kasi hindi rin sigurado si bunso kung handa ba siya sa long term relationship." Sagot ko, sa aking pagkatanda. "Besides, assured rin ba siya na hindi kaliwete at malandi itong bago niyang dyowa?"

At  dahil sa pang beauty pageant kong sagot  ay ginawad sa akin ng mga engkanto ang Baklameter, na mabilis ko rin sinoli nang dalawang beses akong pumalpak habang custodian ng nasabing device.

Subalit mukhang tama ang aking hinala.  

Tatlong  buwan matapos ang inumang naganap ay unti-unting nakarating sa akin ang balita.  Anuman ang aking nalalaman ay mapapatunayan sa pagbabalik ng aming bunso. 

At kanina ngang madaling araw, ito ang text message na bumungad sa aking telepono:

"Single ladies na ulit ako aka beyonce. Confirm na!" 

Hindi man ako nakapagreply,  ngunit dahil wala ni-isa sa amin ang nakakilala sa kanyang ex, we're most happy to get our bunso again. 

At dahil sa bawat heartbreak ay may nag-iintay na kalayaan - na makahanap ng mas guwapo, mas mabait, mas madasalin, mas faithful, at mas good catch kesa sa nakaraan, ang break-up ay tinuturing naming pansamantalang setback lamang.

Alvin_Fairview

Natural na sa paglalakbay ng isang grupo ay may nawawala at kusang nalalaglag. May mga miyembrong salungat ang pag-iisip sa iisang diwa ng barkada kaya't sila ay naiiwan, at sa bandang huli ay nakakalimutan. May mga kumakapit, at sa kabila ng hindi pagiging talagang dikit ay patuloy na nakikisama. Kanya-kanyang diskarte sa iisang bangka, ang mahalaga ay buo at matatag ang haligi ng tropa.

Muli ay nais kong balikan ang nakaraan at silipin ang simula ng Engkantadiya. Ito ay para sa mga miyembrong sinadyang magpalaglag sa kabila ng pintuang nakapinid at madali sanang pasukan. Sa mga pagkakataong sumasagi sa isip ang mga taong bumitaw at nabitawan ay hindi ko maiwasan ang mapaisip: marahil ay sadyang nagkakakilala ang mga taong tinakda sa bawat isa.

Gaya na lang ng alamat ni Alvin_Fairview na hanggang ngayon ay usap-usapan pa rin sa tagayan. Sa mga kutong lupa at bagong mga miyembro, si Alvin_Fairview ang isa sa pinakaunang pangalang lumutang nang si Papa Tagay, Papa Markh, Papa Pilyo at Bloigg ay mga online profiles pa lang. Kung gaano kapilyo at kaharot ang mga binata sa blog ngayon ay masasabing doble pa noon. Sila ang mga powerhouse sa thread ng Walang Mukha. Kasama si Binata at BloodCherry, riot kapag nagpapang-abot ang mga ito.

Ayon sa kuwento, dumating ang panahon na nagsawa ang mga binata sa kakaharot sa isa't isa. Sa wakas ay natapos rin ang mga nakakatigas-burat na pagpapalitan ng  mga post sa  thread. Limot na sa ala-ala kung sino ang talagang nagtawag ng eyeball. Ang alam ko lang, naroon at nagpakita si Papa Tagay, Alvin_Fairview at si Bloigg. Bali-balitang nag-threesome daw ang tatlo, pero lumabas rin ang tunay na kuwento. Friendly eyeball at tumambay lang sa mall ang nangyari.

Ang pagkikita ay nabahiran rin ng intriga. Isa sa mga dumalo ang nagpost ng picture sa thread na kasama pati ang mukha. Nagwala ang mga discreet dahil bigla silang na-out sa G4M. Sa tulong ni Papa Markh na anonymous pa noon ay nalubog rin ang post.

Masasabing trahedya man ang unang eyeball pero hindi ito naging hadlang upang i-meet si Alvin_Fairview. Pareho kaming walang magawa isang hapon kaya't nagkasundo kaming magkita sa Trinoma. Lakad rito, lakad roon, naging wholesome ang eyeball. Marami ring naikuwento ang binata, karamihan ay limot ko na.

Naikuwento niya na matagal na siyang walang trabaho. Taong bahay siya at bukod sa tigahatid at tigasundo ng mga pamangkin sa school ay babad sa internet. Maputi ang binata, mga 5'6 ang tangkad at may kapayatan. Unlike Papa Tagay at si PGR na talagang lantaran kung magpakita ng  putotoy at katawan, masasabing dinala ng confidence ang online impression ko sa aking ka-meet. Iba pala siya sa personal at kahit ganun ang nangyari ay hindi ako nakaramdam ng disappointment.

At least, nakita ko ang isa sa mga powerhouse ng Walang Mukha.

Dumaan ang ilang linggo at nakatagpo ko rin ang Pinuno. Nasabi niya ang mga kuwentong piniling hindi ibahagi sa akin ni Alvin_Fairview. Sabi niya na nahulog pala ang loob ng binata sa isa sa kanyang mga naka-eyeball. Kaya pala bigla-biglang naging wholesome ito sa thread. Sa kasamaang palad ay hindi siya trip ng ka-eyeball kaya basted ang binata. Nang magkita-kita ang original five sa Araneta isang buwan matapos ang eyeball namin ni Fox, ganito daw ang naging eksena:

Unang dumating sina Papa Markh, Papa Tagay at si Papa Pilyo. Hagikgikan ang tatlo habang si Alvin_Fairview ay nakatayo sa isang sulok.

Nakasimangot.

"Uy kamusta! At last nakita rin kita" Bati ng Diyosa sa kanyang pagdating.

"Kanina pa kita iniintay. Aalis na rin ako kasi OP na ako dito." Sabay walk out ng binata.

Hindi ko na naabutan si Alvin_Fairview. Wala na rin kaming narinig sa kanya hanggang sa lumago ng lumago na lang ang grupo.

Pero kagabi ay may natanggap akong text kay Papa Pilyo.

"Nasa States na pala si Alvin_Fairview nag-email sa akin nakikibalita. Bigay ko ba link ng Engkantadya?"

Pumayag akong ibahagi ang blog.

Si Alvin_Fairview ay matuturing man na kasaysayan subalit ang kanyang legacy ay patuloy na bukambibig ng mga taong kanyang nakasama.

By way of chance and ironic encounters, siya ang tunay na ikalima sa original 5. Kung iisipin, posibleng ang entrance ticket na napunta sa akin ay talagang para sa kanya. Kung hindi sa walk-out dahil sa nabigong pag-ibig ay hindi ako ipapatawag at the last minute.

Wala dapat ako sa Grand Eyeball.

Magprotesta man si Papa Tagay sa pagbuhay ng mga usaping patay na, subalit matapos ang matagumpay na Christmas Party noong nakaraang linggo, tingin ko ay napapanahon na upang balikan ang nakaraan at alalahanin ang mga kasamang dapat sana ay ka-tagay ng tropa.

Naging cameo man ang role ni Alvin_Fairview noong mga araw ko sa G4M, hindi makakailang siya ang  unang eyeball ko sa Walang Mukha Thread. Sa mga panahong naghahanap ako ng sense of belonging, malaking bagay ang kanyang pagpapakita. At kung tama nga ang hinala ko na siya dapat ang nasa spot na aking kinuha, marahil, mas malaki pa ang contribution niya sa paglago ng engkantadya kesa sa aming pagkakaalam.

Hindi man niya matagpuan ang thread at tuluyang maputol man ang aming ugnayan, ang mahalaga ay walang nakakalimot.

Ang kanyang alamat ay habambuhay magiging bahagi ng aming maboteng usapan.

Rakista

Frustration ko talaga ang kumanta.  Noong hindi pa ako tuli at nagagawa ko pa ang mag-soprano ay nakasali pa ako sa choir ng high school namin.  Isang taon rin yun.  Natanggal lang ako nang magsimulang pumiyok na ang boses ko.  May inter-school competition kasi na sasalihan ang school at kesa magkalat ako at matalo kami ay piniling tanggalin na lang ako ng choirmaster sa roster.

Hindi na ako nakabalik sa choir pagkatapos.



Tuwing Pasko ay may reunion ang pamilya namin.  Nagkikita kaming magpipinsan at dahil mga bata pa ay napipilit kami ng mga matatanda na mag-talent show muna. Yun daw ang kundisyon bago ibigay ang pera na galing sa mga kamag-anak namin sa states.  Never akong nagpractice sa talent portion gaya ng mga bata kong pinsan. Sa halip ay pahirapan muna bago ko bitawan ang controller ng Sega tuwing ako ay tatawagin na para magpakita ng talento.

Minsan ay napuwersa nila ako sa harap ng mga tiyuhin at tiyahin. Confident na marunong akong kumanta, nilagay nila ang cassette tape ng paborito kong music artist. Nakalimutan ko na kung ano ang kinanta ko, pero ang comment ni favorite aunt, puwede daw akong pang-third voice.

Hindi na ulit ako kumanta sa harap ng maraming tao simula noon.



Dumaan ang maraming taon at naging tagumpay ako sa pag-iwas sa mga kantahan.  Nalaos na ang walkman at naging obsolete na ang karaoke pero ako ay naging mailap pa rin.  Masuwerte na lang siguro na napasama ako sa mga barkadang tinaguriang mga basag rin ang boses.  Yung unang grupo ay nadala sa pagiging japorms ang pag-iwas sa microphone. Yung ikalawa naman ay piniling mag-sound trip na lang kesa sabayan sa pagkanta ang mga trip nilang mga banda.

Minsan ay napapakanta rin ako ng hindi sinasadya, lalo pa't paniwalang paniwala ako na nag-iisa lang sa paligid. Kapag time na ng chorus at nagkataon namang ako ay bigay na bigay, nariyan si utol para magsabing huwag daw akong umungol na parang kalabaw.

Siyempre, tiklop na naman ako. Wala naman talagang marunong kumakanta sa aming pamilya.



Tanggap ko na sana ang katotohanang malayo sa puso ko ang pagkanta. Pero nang minsang umuwi ako ng bahay na medyo heartbroken, wala akong nagawa kung hindi makipag-duet sa desktop pc. Kaiba sa marami, alternative ang mood music ko tuwing in-love o kaya naman ay sugatan ang puso. Hindi ko alam kung bakit, pero nang gabing iyon, sinira na naman ni utol ang aking moment.

"Kuya ikaw ba yung kumakanta?"

"Oo bakit?" Clinick ko yung stop button ng Windows Media Player. Tiyak na pintas na naman ang abot ko nito.

"Hindi nga? Para kasing hindi ikaw eh."

"Anong ibig mong sabihin?" Ang tagal kasi bago ibagsak ang punchline eh.

"Parang gumanda yata ang boses mo."

Hindi na ako kumanta pagkatapos noon, pero bakas ang ngiti sa aking mukha. Ikaw ba naman ang binigyang papuri ng iyong number 1 critic eh. Hanggang ngayon ay pilit ko pa ring iniisip kung ano yung kinanta ko noong gabing yun. Badtrip kasi limot ko na talaga.

Marahil ang papuring iyon ang dahilan kung bakit pumayag akong samahan si Papa Tagay mag-videoke. First meet-up namin at salamat sa anim na Red Horse ay bangenge kaming dalawa.

Wala talaga akong balak kumanta. Masaya na akong may kainuman sa may Ayala (Boulevard) habang nagkukunwaring straight kasama nung mga Tau Gamma na tambay ng katabing bilyaran. Kaso mo, biglang naihi si Papa Tagay kung kailan i-pla-play na yung next song niya. Hindi ko alam kung nasaan ang pause button at sayang naman kung walang sasalo ng playlist.

"Bahala na," Sabi ko, habang mahigpit na hawak ang microphone na noon ay basa na ng pawis.

Tenenenenen.... Tenenenenen... Tenenenenenen... Ang sarap sa tenga ng intro ng gitara.

So lately, been wondering
Who will be there to take my place
When I'm gone you'll need love to light the shadows on your face
If a great wave shall fall yeah fall upon us all
Then between the sand and stone could you make it on your own.

Hiyawan yung mga waitress at ibang mga customer na umiinom kasabay namin ni Papa Tagay. Ako rin ay hindi makapaniwala na kaya ko palang kumanta. Dala siguro ng sipa ng kabayo kaya nawala ang hiya sa akin. Sa halip ay napalitan ito ng kapal ng mukha na siyang nagbigay lakas-loob para tapusin ko ang buong kanta.

Hindi ko alam kung hanggang saan ang narinig ni Papa Tagay. Pero nakita kong nakangiti ito habang pinapasa ang mic sa susunod na kakanta. Simula noon ay The Calling na ang pambato ko sa playlist. Minsan ay Sponge Cola o kaya naman ay Matchbox 20 na tamang-tama lang sa boses ko.

Mahiyain pa rin ako gaya ng dati, kaya tuwing may Videoke Nights ay madalas na lugi ako sa hatian. Pero asahan mo na sa oras na malasing ako, basta alternative yan ay hindi ako umaatras.

Minsan, napipilitan pa akong kumanta - kahit sa isang sulok - matanggal lang ang pagkahilo kapag ako ay nakakarami na.