Instaboylet

"Pare puwede ka ba makausap?"

The tone of his text message revealed a sense of urgency. Instead of responding with another text message, I immediately called his number to get into the heart of his distress call.

His name is Zoey, a straight tropa back from college. We may not see each other regularly but in times of trouble, I usually get the first SOS message. So I knew how to act and this time my hunches were correct.

"Na trouble ako dude, may kilala ka kayang nagpapa-room for rent?"

It didn't take long for me to figure out his story. Apparently, his life is under threat from elements he has no idea. His hassles began after a series of affairs with women of acquaintance last week. Being a marketable bachelor, it wasn't hard for him to get the attention of the ladies he wanted.

I would have referred him to a friend who might know someone who offers his space for rent but the tone of his voice required a delicate maneuvering. We have been this way since college. When thing get beyond his control, it was me who often takes the burden away from him.

Realizing that he needed a company, I offered my place as a sanctuary. It would be like the old days again except this time,

He knows I am not straight.

---

Afternoon came and our updates became increasingly recurrent like how lovers send text messages to one another. Maybe I was exaggerating our digital exchanges for I was feeling a little mushy at that time. Who wouldn't be, I was blissfully having a stroll around the tree-lined roads of Diliman as tracks after tracks of Alternative Music played on my iPod. Sun rays peaked through the canopy of trees giving the surroundings a portrait of a perfect sunset. Sweaty joggers passed by but my mind was elsewhere. I was painting a scene of two male lovers exchanging vows of companionship under the clear blue sky.

The daydream would have went on if not for Zoey's request to pick him up in his office somewhere in Roxas Boulevard.

And so I left the serene landscape of my university to wade through the chaotic streets of Manila. An hour later, I found myself in Zoey's lobby waiting for him to leave his cubicle. He showed up 15 minutes later visibly distraught at how his charms backfired on him.

---

"Ikaw kasi eh, dami mong tsiks." I jested to the visibly annoyed casanova.

The journey going home was uneventful. There were no car chases or hooded men on bikes following our cab. My companion would call a family member or two to inform them of his whereabouts. He was visibly exhausted after days of sleeplessness. We proceeded directly to my room when we arrived home. There were no awkward introductions to housemates because I was assured that I brought home someone my mother knew way back from long ago.

It was like the old times again.

Zoey was the first guy I met in college. I remember our first introductions beside the stairs while waiting for our class to start. He was my platoon mate in ROTC so there were times he slept over at my place especially when we were needed to report in the field at 6 in the morning. There was even a time he was my Valentines Date after our dates ditched us that morning. We watched a movie together in Megamall and ate lunch in one of the restaurants at the ground floor. Despite the good times, our friendship was never an ideal one. We drifted apart sometime in our sophomore year after a brief confrontation about the reality of our friendship. He wasn't used to being looked after especially by a guy who is far taller than him. I had long suspected that our unbreakable bond fed the imagination of everyone and he was being pressured to push me away lest he might be seen as someone tripping over the homo line. I pulled back after that confrontation and found someone who appreciated my devotion as a tropa.

However it was us who drifted apart after third year and Zoey continued to linger on even beyond our university years.

He changed into his sleeping attire when we entered my room. There were no conversations after we lied on the bed for I already sounded the alarm as a precaution for a possible assault. We never had histories of being intimate but knowing how I respond to provocations, a slightest hint even from a long-time tropa like him will be met in kind. I cannot deny that he perfectly fits the profile of guys I flirt in Malate and what held me at bay was my no-first strike policy in any intimate matters with men.

Zoey fell asleep immediately after placing his head on one of my pillows.

---

The night was a fairy tale which allowed us to live a life like we had a decade ago.

I woke up Zoey at past ten thirty to have our dinner. In our younger days, we would eat at the same time after exhausting our senses playing Need For Speed or Worms Armageddon the whole evening. That night, the maid prepared Pork Adobo and Hard Boiled Eggs for our supper. Mom was watching her favorite telenovela in the sala so they were able to update each others lives while the table was being set for our hapunan. After dinner has ended, we went out to get some fresh air. The truth was, we just wanted to puff a stick of cigarette and have a little bonding time for ourselves. It didn't take long and we're back again in my room. He checked some emails and viewed the Friendster accounts of his ladies before returning to my bed.

Tired and exhausted from my bouts with insomnia the nights before, I only ensured his comfortable return to dreamland before I followed suit.

It's been six years since I outed myself during a drinking session with him. I was happily taken and I felt compelled spilling the beans when he told me his romantic endeavors with girls. He was the first straight guy to know my new-found life and the acceptance wasn't easy; it was a slow and cumbersome process.

Through the years of sticking together, he learned to see me the way he did back in college. I returned the favor by acting as straight as possible when he is around. However, recalling how he nearly provoked me the last time we were left alone in his place, letting him sleep beside me was a huge risk. I didn't even know if it was premeditated or he was ready for anything knowing how two single men of the same wavelength but opposite polarity almost always find themselves in the battlefield called bed.

But control prevailed that night. I have to or I may never be able to stand my ground again. The inconvenience wasn't easy. For someone who barely wears anything in his sleep, I had to put two boxers on and a white rugged sando to cover my muscular body. I even had to wrap myself in a blanket all night and put a veritable distance between us to ensure that no moment of hostility could ever exist as we slept. For the first time in many years, I was able to lie down beside another guy without any incident to ponder after waking up the following morning.

The exercise of control was liberating. It was like turning my back from all the years where lust held sway over my man-to-man affairs.

---

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Umaga na. Subalit anumang pilit ko bumalik sa pagtulog, sadyang pinigil ako ng insomnia para mahimbing muli.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Gising na parekoy. May pasok ka pa sa trabaho.

"Five minutes" ang mahina niyang sagot sa akin.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Pati ang alarm clock ng cellphone ko ay nakiisa na rin sa dalawa niyang alarm clock. Magulang ako, pati sarili kong body clock ay dinadaya ko upang mapahaba lang ang mga oras na gising ako. Nagdesisyon akong mag-gym ng alas-sais ng umaga.

Bumangon siya matapos ang sampung minuto upang maligo. Ako naman ay nag-ayos ng kama at nagbihis habang nag-iintay sa kanyang pagbabalik. Matapos maligo, ako naman ang bumaba upang magsipilyo at maghilamos. Umaga na nga... oras na para bumalik sa aming kanya-kanyang mundo.

Lumabas kami ng bahay na magkasabay. Siya ay naka-slacks at barong tagalog. Ako naman ay naka-fitted shirt at maluwag na pantalon. Ang layo ng ayos naming dalawa kahit na iisa lang kami ng pinanggalingan. Hinatid ko siya sa sakayan. Matapos ang ilang minuto ay nakapara ito ng taxi.

Papasikat na ang araw. Ang mga pupils mula sa isang elementary school malapit sa amin ay nagmamadali na makatawid ng kalsada. Sa mga oras na iyon ay naiwan akong nakatayo, mga mata'y sinusundan ang papalayo niyang sasakyan.

Hindi ko man lubusang aaminin ngunit ng mga oras na iyon - mula nang kami'y nagising sa iisang higaan hanggang sa pagsabay naming lumabas ng bahay at mag-abang ng masasakyan sa daan, isa lang ang naglalaro sa utak ko.

It's like all over again.

Para akong biglang nagkaroon ng kabiyak,

kahit ito'y isang pang- magdamagan lamang.

The Berthgiver (Second Part)

[12:02] kidblogger001: pero ewan ko..
[12:02] kidblogger001: kasi..
[12:02] kidblogger001: gustong gusto ko yung feeling na..
[12:02] kidblogger001: pinagtitinginan ka.
[12:02] MuGen: ano?
[12:02] kidblogger001: lalu na ng mga bakla.
[12:02] kidblogger001: haha.
[12:02] kidblogger001: alam mong sabik sau.
[12:02] kidblogger001: haha
[12:02] MuGen: may itsura ka naman eh
[12:02] MuGen: pero don't get it into your head
[12:03] MuGen: dapat maging challenge mo
[12:03] MuGen: paano mo makukuha ang attention
[12:03] MuGen: ng mas superior sayo
[12:03] MuGen: sa katawan saka sa looks
[12:04] kidblogger001: ahh.
[12:04] kidblogger001: tama.
[12:04] kidblogger001: pero sa totoo lang,
[12:05] kidblogger001: ginagawa ko nlng to..
[12:05] kidblogger001: just for fun. ayaw ko ng seryosohin.

---

There he was, having his alone time beside the window. Impressions tell that he was not in the mood to mingle with the people in our table. I glanced at him from a distance only to see his eyes fixed at the road outside. It was clear that something was bothering him but being a newbie in the group, to reach out would make me appear too cocky to those who met him before I arrived.

Some of the guys from our thread would interrupt his solitary confinement. They would pull his hand and coax him to join us in our wild abandonment. He would respond to the invitation by sliding his butt from the bar stool. He would then stand in one corner and thump his feet and nod his head to the sound of music to make it appear that he was dancing.

After a house track has finished playing, he would quietly slip from our circle and reach his hand to pick a bottle of beer he left on the table. He would empty the bottle with one gulp before returning to his stool and fix his gaze back to the road outside the window.

It must be my tendency to be drawn to people who seldom speak that lead me closer to him. After all, there seems to be a natural attraction between two non-straight men who find each other deem masculine for their taste. Barely an hour since I arrived, we were already exchanging pleasantries in one corner as prying eyes turn toward our direction.

I found out weeks later that the reason for the sudden coldness among several of the attendees was because he was the apple of the eye during the grand eye ball.

And there we were, suddenly getting comfortable with one another.

---

[12:05] MuGen: bata ka pa
[12:05] MuGen: so you can afford to have fun
[12:06] MuGen: basta ingat ka lang dude
[12:06] MuGen: 18 ka tama ba?
[12:07] kidblogger001: uu.
[12:07] kidblogger001: 18..
[12:07] kidblogger001: salamat..
[12:07] kidblogger001: hehe..
[12:07] MuGen: normal yan
[12:07] MuGen: malibog
[12:07] MuGen: aggressive
[12:07] MuGen: may mga nagagawa ako ng 21
[12:07] MuGen: na hindi ko maimagine na gagawin ko ngayong 27 na ako
[12:07] kidblogger001: like wut?
[12:07] MuGen: yoko sabihin sayo
[12:07] MuGen: mag ka idea ka pa
[12:08] kidblogger001: ganun?
[12:08] kidblogger001: haha.

---

I found out during the course of our conversation that the guy he was courting for many weeks suddenly picked someone to become his new lover. I didn't speak much that night, and instead listened as he recounted the things he did in order to win the guy's affection. For a tall, chinito guy like him, I think he was a good catch. I even made enemies just for having a monopoly of his attention. But since it was my first real encounter with a non-straight guy who thinks and acts like me, I was more fascinated in becoming his buddy. After all, I was still in a heterosexual relationship and I just couldn't imagine having a girl and a guy being my lovers.

The night ended with us exchanging numbers. I left earlier than the rest since they were all drunk and I could already feel that some of them didn't want my presence. Upon returning to the party meeting, the core group was still arguing about the expenses and logistics of running the elections. Meanwhile, the candidates rehearsed their speeches at the far end of the room.

Things would have appeared normal except for me, whose eyes suddenly had this spark after my first grand eye ball. For the first time, I never felt alone. Someone actually understood the troubles running in my head. To live a double life I am against wasn't easy, but to know that another person shares the same struggles I have was enough to overcome the burdens of denying myself of the truth:

I am attracted to another guy and there's no other way but to accept it as a fact.

---

[12:08] kidblogger001: so dami ok pa plng di alam.
[12:08] kidblogger001: kung baga rookie plang ako.
[12:08] MuGen: hindi ka naman pwede maging expert kaagad eh
[12:08] MuGen: kahit ako hindi ko masasabing expert ako nu
[12:09] MuGen: palaban lang ako pag hinahamon
[12:10] kidblogger001: ah. pero alam mong mali diba?
[12:10] MuGen: mali alin?
[12:11] kidblogger001: mali ang lahat ng ito.
[12:11] MuGen: hindi
[12:11] MuGen: society lang nagdidikta sa atin na mali ito.
[12:11] MuGen: pusta ko sayo
[12:11] MuGen: kapag 30 ka na
[12:11] MuGen: hindi na big deal
[12:11] MuGen: kung straight ka
[12:11] MuGen: o bading ka
[12:11] MuGen: o bi ka.

---

It was almost morning and my text exchanges with FireArcher never stopped We talked about our longings and yes, even our desire to see each other soon. Reading between the lines, the messages revealed our mutual interest for one another. I just couldn't admit it. As my party mates retreat for some rest, I looked at our effeminate colleagues with a smile on my face. They returned the favor by raising an eyebrow as they passed in front of me.

At the back of my head. All I could muster was an act of surrender. There was no use holding on, for my insatiable appetite to discover my new-found sexuality has reached levels that could never be controlled anymore. With our first encounter still burning in my memory, I decided to know him more.

I retreated into the night with these lines ending my first gay poem.

I,
a suppose to be
impenetrable fortress
has become a mudbrick
withering after ages of hiding

You
burn me relentlessly
in the most secret
of the nights

---

-tobecontinued-

The Berthgiver (First Part)

Bakit kaya dumarami ang mga PLU kahit hindi sila nanganganak?

- Anon

---

[11:32] MuGen: may experience ka na ba dati?
[11:32] MuGen: i mean
[11:32] MuGen: nasubukan mo na
[11:32] MuGen: sa lalaki?
[11:34] kidblogger001: ha? bakit?
[11:34] kidblogger001: mu natanong?
[11:34] kidblogger001: muka ba?
[11:36] MuGen: yung tingin ko?
[11:37] kidblogger001: yea?

---

We agreed to see each other a few days after our first meeting in a grand eye ball.

The grand eye ball was my first. Organized by the founders of the first gay and lesbian community in Pinoyexchange, it set the standards for all the gatherings among non-straight groups in the online forum. I remember showing up in my school uniform that night in Malate. The campaign drive for the student council elections was in its final swing and meetings after meetings took what remained of my social life.

Despite the busy schedule, my inner sexual conflict was gaining prominence among the things I thought beyond politics. I just confessed my bisexual tendencies in the same forum a few weeks before and the invitation to join the gathering sent to me hereafter was too tempting not to ignore.

So I made an excuse to my other colleagues who were still in the middle of a heated debate within the campus just to satisfy my curiosity. I rode a jeep in Dapitan going to Taft Avenue; walked a few blocks from the main road until reaching the corner of Nakpil and Orosa streets; and entered a lesbian bar which would close down before the year ended and open again as the infamous Red Banana, which was known for its cum-drenched dark room upstairs until it was closed down by the authorities several years ago.

The place where my life as a non-straight started is now occupied by the much tamer O-Bar.

---

[11:37] MuGen: curious ka eh
[11:37] MuGen: so mukhang may karanasan ka na
[11:38] MuGen: tropa tayo dude ha
[11:38] MuGen: alam mo naman
[11:38] MuGen: preference ko diba
[11:39] kidblogger001: anu nga ba?
[11:39] MuGen: hindi ako straight.
[11:39] kidblogger001: confirm ko lanf,
[11:40] MuGen: so bago ka mag trip
[11:40] MuGen: itanong mo muna sa akin
[11:40] MuGen: at baka
[11:40] MuGen: ma-confuse ka
[11:40] MuGen: pag tumagal
[11:41] kidblogger001: ma confuse san?
[11:41] MuGen: haha
[11:41] MuGen: wala

---

"Hello! Si Endymionn ito, nandito na ako sa La Dida. Nasaan kayo?"

"Akyat ka lang. Nakaupo kami malapit sa CR."

I called the organizer using my mobile phone the moment I set foot inside the bar. These days, I would even leave a dance partner and walk as far away as I could just to call back my mother whenever she checks my whereabouts during my weekly night-outs. Finding the group wasn't difficult. Since it was a lesbian bar, there were only a handful of guys inside the place. I easily found them seated near the bathroom.

What greeted me was a bunch of men and women who happens to be all non-straights. Most of them were effeminate gays in their mid and early twenties, while a couple of masculine ones were seated next to the window. The rest were lipstick and butch lesbians dancing next to our table. Had I not been exposed to the same kind of people within my political party, I would have never lasted an hour in their company.

Like all first timers, I had my tense moments too. I kept on looking at faces of people around me out of fear that someone might know who I am. You see, I was technically straight. I had no experience with another guy; I was quite well-known in my campus; and my circle of friends inside the classroom were straight men who enjoyed bashing gay people. It would be a great embarrassment had someone from school caught me hanging out in such queer places.

The only gay people I knew were the flamboyant and screaming ones from my college. The concept of discreetness hasn't entered my consciousness yet and the thought of seeing a masculine guy who happens to like another guy was a stuff of legend I was trying to prove to exist. It was the reason I dared show up in the company of gay people. Somehow, it got so cramped inside my closet that the need to reach out and connect with men who shares my affinity became a need I could not resist.

---

[11:42] kidblogger001: so anu ka?
[11:42] kidblogger001: silahis?
[11:42] kidblogger001: ganun?
[11:42] MuGen: uu
[11:42] MuGen: [insert smiley face here]
[11:42] kidblogger001: or ung bimale?
[11:43] MuGen: pareho lang yun
[11:43] kidblogger001: ah. preho lang ba yun.
[11:43] kidblogger001: t, b, o v?
[11:45] MuGen: nyemas
[11:45] MuGen: dami mong alam ah
[11:45] MuGen: alam mo ibig sabihin ng t b o v?
[11:47] kidblogger001: top, bottom, versa?
[11:47] MuGen: sino nagturo sayo?
[11:47] MuGen: straight ka ba?
[11:47] kidblogger001: ako.
[11:47] MuGen: confused?
[11:48] kidblogger001: confused?
[11:48] kidblogger001: indi ah.
[11:48] kidblogger001: sure ako.
[11:48] kidblogger001: 100%
[11:48] MuGen: straight.
[11:48] kidblogger001: BI
[11:48] kidblogger001: [insert smiley face here]
[11:49] MuGen: gulo mo bro.
[11:49] MuGen: haha
[11:49] MuGen: wag mong piliting basahin kita
[11:49] kidblogger001: panong basahin?
[11:49] kidblogger001: ayaw mu maniwala?
[11:50] MuGen: na bisexual ka?
[11:51] kidblogger001: oo?

---

"Hi, my name is Joms. My PEx handle is Endymionn." They all nodded to acknowledge my presence.

Like in all traditional grand eyeballs, there is a part where the host would introduce the new arrival to everyone in the group. First to be introduced were the lesbians who were grinding to the sound of Joyrise before they were interrupted by one of the organizers. They were all pretty, very feminine and if not for their admission of sexuality, one would never realize that they were actually boob-diggers.

Next were the professional gay men from the "straight-acting" group. They were men, yes, but straight-acting, I doubt. Nevertheless, they all welcomed me with open-arms despite showing some stiffness and distance when I tried to reach out to them. I sat in their table realizing that I cannot relate to the musicals, fine dining places and pop culture they talked among themselves.

The last to be introduced were the "bisexuals." They were the ones I'm acquainted with in the forum. All of them were students like me. We came from different universities who have different views about sexuality. Among all of them, I think I was the only rookie. Most of them were already quite comfortable with themselves and their reasons for attending were far different from mine.

In those days, my favorite opening lines were "kelan mo na realize na hindi ka pala straight?" or "when was the last time you had a girlfriend?" Those who got fed up by those questions raised by the uninstructed ones like me would just raise their eyebrows, smile and then hesitantly give their answers. After satisfying your curiosity, they would return to their hunting grounds in search for their potential lovers. Since I wasn't really a catch and most people found me aloof, if not too intimidating, I was left in the corner near the windows looking at the group of people assembled on the street below.

That was until I met someone who happened to share the same wavelength as mine.

His PEx handle was FireArcher and before the week was over, he would eventually be the one to initiate me to the ways of being a non-straight.

---

[11:52] MuGen: thanks sa pagtitiwala
[11:52] MuGen: actually basa ko naman eh
[11:52] kidblogger001: eh yun nmn pla eh.
[11:53] kidblogger001: haha.
[11:53] kidblogger001: ngayun lang?
[11:53] MuGen: nung
[11:54] MuGen: sinabi mo sakin
[11:54] MuGen: yung q circle
[11:55] MuGen: [insert blog entry link here]
[11:56] MuGen: tsaka yan
[11:57] kidblogger001: haha. mahilig lang tlga ako sa mga ganyan.
[11:57] kidblogger001: lols.
[11:57] kidblogger001: i mean sa mga bakla.
[11:57] MuGen: hehe
[11:57] MuGen: nakikisama ako sa mas effem sa akin
[11:57] MuGen: pag kaibigan lang
[11:57] MuGen: pero pag medyo
[11:57] MuGen: lumalandi
[11:57] MuGen: defensive na ako.
[11:58] kidblogger001: haha.
[11:58] MuGen: parang gaya sa gateway mo
[11:58] MuGen: mabait ka pa
[11:59] kidblogger001: first time ko nmn kasi tlga un.
[11:59] kidblogger001: kaya di ko lam gagawin ko.
[11:59] kidblogger001: tska isa pa.
[11:59] MuGen: anu?
[11:59] kidblogger001: di ko trip s i kuya.
[11:59] kidblogger001: lols
[11:59] MuGen: hehehe
[11:59] MuGen: pero kung trip mo
[11:59] MuGen: sasama ka?

---

-tobecontinued-

Kapitan and Pan

Fortune smiles to those who are true seekers of love.

This is the welcome message I use in my line of work. It never fails to encourage a response. In most cases, it opens doors that would lead to revelations of our clients' romantic longings. It welcomes thirsty wanderers searching for answers that would get them closer to their desires.

For months, the spiel was the song that allowed me to reach out and touch people's hearts. It never occurred that the same lines, which I had used on others, when used upon me would open the doors that would gently pat my long forgotten dreams.

How I wish, I could go back and start all over again.

"Kapitan, paano kayo nagsimula ni Kapitana?"

It was a harmless question directed to a friend from the Tripper's Clan. We know him as the Pirata, but another friend, Cholo_Dude had given him a new endearment. He is now known as the Kapitan, whose imposing presence had recently shaped how we conducted our affairs in the thread. We know each other in Pinoyexchange for years. However his elusive nature prevented me from knowing him deeper.

Until recently.

"Ganito, kasi di ba lima kami dati, si One, Ako, Biboy, Tsino and Pan," Kapitan replied.

"Uh huh.."

"Alam naman ng karamihan na si One ang gusto ko nun. crush lang naman."

In truth, I wasn't aware that they had their own circle. I was busy with my own conflicts that a mere invitation from the group we both belonged was enough to keep me at peace. I've heard rumors about them before - rumors that spread like wildfire, whose impressions leaned against Kapitan's reputation. Now that I was able to talk to him directly, these stories which blurred my vision and their circle can now be put to rest: Everything said about him was just mere fabrication.

"Then kahit pa alam ni One yun wala lang, barkada.. tapos si Pan shoti na tawag ko dun. kumbaga bunsong kapatid. tapos lagi sya tumatawag sa bahay namin. sya yung napagkkwentuhan ko madalas about One."

We know that attractions are bound to fail when it is not sustained or encouraged by the person we direct our feelings to. We also know that when we get tired of putting a person on the spotlight and then realize that he is not as unique as we thought him to be, we turn off the lights, pack up and then move on. This is what happened to Kapitan and One. As for him and Pan, their brotherly ties had taken a new direction - something, which both of them never expected to happen.

"One time kami na tinutukso dahil sobrang close namin. Napansin yun nila Tsino na ako naman natatawa kasi di ko naman alam pinagsasasabi nila."

"Hanggang ako mismo nagpuna sa sarili ko kung bakit nila kami niloloko."

I remember having a very close friend whose name is Yusuke. We were classmates in high school and we treated each other as mere acquaintances back then. For some reasons however, our friendship went deeper during our junior year in college. We may be studying in different universities, but we talked almost every night on the phone for hours. Our subjects ranged from Anime to the software he used in class. We talked about friends, school and other trivial things that crossed our mind. We occasionally talked about women, but in those days, we felt awkward having them as our subject. The reason for Yusuke might have simply been to avoid getting teased by her sisters.

For me, the future would tell why.

We went out almost every Fridays to see different places. Malls were our favorite spot for not only do we get to do some window shopping, we also get to check the pirated PC games that proliferated around us. We sometimes watched movies, dined in different restaurants, or when we have no money, we just stayed home to watch TV or let him do his homework on my computer.

Sometimes he would do a sleep-over just to keep me company as I finish my papers for school.

Despite our almost inseparable bond, Yusuke and I were never romantically connected. We would sometimes sleep in one bed, but the thoughts of stepping over the line never occurred to me - not even the thought of it. We were perfect companions and I wouldn't have asked for more. Only later, when I learned how homo-leaning our actions were did I realize that he could have been my first lover.

"Then one day jinoke namin sila na kami na ni Pan."

"Talaga?" I said with much astonishment.

"Tapos tuwang tuwa sila... pero joke nga lang. Then after nun sabi ni Pan na bawiin na raw namin yung joke."

"That time iba nafeel ko nung sinabi niyang bawiin namin."

"Di ko rin alam kung bakit biglang ganun na feel ko pero nalungkot ako."

Yusuke began entertaining the thoughts of having a relationship with a girl just when I was about to start mine. Things didn't matter then for I have always preoccupied myself chasing women. I was even seeing one at that time he courted his soon-to-be girlfriend. However, it was Yusuke's company that I enjoyed most. I get to look after him without being expected of me. We get to see places without worrying too much about the well-being of my company. Ours could have been a very ideal man to man relationship only if I knew there was such a concept. Looking back at his values and beliefs however, he would never accept such idea.

Back to Kapitan and Pan, their joke backfired. The Kapitan admitted that he had fun being his shoti's boyfriend - even if just for a moment. I may not imagine how twisted it would be to become your little brother's lover, but I feel the connection - the bond that would make you achieve a state of singularity only the two of you could appreciate. No wonder, he was hesitant to take back Pan's joke. Perhaps in those few moments of bliss, he finally found his true purpose toward his little brother. Maybe they are meant to have roles deeper than what they have established.

So when the game was over, Kapitan already felt different. Rather than addressing what he now felt, he pulled back and put some distance between him and his shoti.

"Ganun kasi ako eh. Di ako yung aggressive type."

"So what happened?" I asked.

"So ayun, iniwasan ko siya then napansin niya yun."

"Binabasura ko daw siya."

"Tapos?" The suspense is killing me.

"Then di ko kinaya na magpanggap kaya inamin ko sa kanya na meron akong nararamdaman na ayaw kong ituloy."

Had I have the balls to do as what Kapitan did, I would have saved myself from a lot of major heartaches and meaningless abandonment. But can I blame myself from veering towards back roads when ambiguity is my element? Can I blame myself for denying my emotions when history tells that I've been preceded by so many turn-downs in the past?

"Sabi niya, wag ko daw siya iwasan."

"Saka di naman daw niya ako hahayaang mahulog magisa."

Mag-isa. the last word that struck me deep. I found myself suddenly searching for any snippets of memory that would make me feel that I was never alone in my relationships - that my lovers did truly care for me. Maybe there were moments - rare and timeless ones. But now that they are muddled by my desire for something new; something that is closer to what Kapitan and Pan have, I systematically erased those moments from my memory banks.

Kapitan revealed to me more about his past this afternoon than in all the years we know each other. His relationship with Pan gifted him with insights that I still have to learn from my own experience.

"Dati sabi ko sa sarili ko, bakit ang dami kong naging ex," he began. "Bakit di kami tumatagal? Bakit lagi akong sinasaktan.. Pero ngayon narealize ko kung bakit nangyari sa akin yun. Isipin mo na lang na yang experience mo eh lesson para sayo. Yung failed relationships ang nagpreprepare sa atin bago natin mameet yung para sa atin talaga. Kung iisipin mo, kung tumagal pa yan lalo, mas matagal yung nasayang na panahon. In time malalaman mo kung sino talaga para sayo. Hindi sa panahon na masaya kayo, kundi sa panahon na almost gusto mo ng kumalas."

His words stunned me. Never did I think a person could be this brimming with insights when he is sharing his life with someone he truly loves. Now I understand why he has this authority over our other members in the clan. It is his brilliance that make people gather around him. It is his wisdom that convinced us to let him be the new Thread Founder of the clan.

---

Kapitan's story is just one of the several love stories I stumbled upon lately. His was full of promise, full of romance and full of hope for a relationship that some people find hard to believe that can work. His was a breathe of mentholated air, a warmth-giving hug on a cold lonely night, a full moon on a starless, cloudless sky which illuminates a silvery landscape used to the darkness of the night. In the course of our conversation, he told me a couple of times that he sees Pan more of a brother than his lover despite enduring the trials and tribulations of a two-year old relationship. A malicious mind could have simply interpreted his words as someone harboring some incest fantasies. Someone who sees beyond the veil could truly appreciate what they have achieved.

As I was talking to them last night over a chat conference, it became a source of confusion as to why Pan keeps calling someone Kuya when there was only me and the Kapitan chatting with him. Granted that I am the oldest among the two of them, Pan still sees me as his equal.

Only later did I find out who his Kuya really was.

"Kuya tulog na tayo. Sabay pa tayo magwowork-out mamaya."

"Sige offline na ako in a while. Paano Joms una na kami," the Kapitan said.

"Sige, good night sa inyong dalawa. Sa muling pag-uusap."

Fortune indeed smiles to those who are true seekers of love.

Payatas Tragedy Revisited

Huli man daw at sandali lang nakisali sa piging, nawa'y ang entry na ito ay magsilbing tugon sa pagmumulat mo sa aming natutulog na diwa tungkol sa kahirapan ng buhay maralita.

Maligayang kaarawan, kaibigan.

---

PARADISE LOST
Three months after the infamous tragedy, Payatas residents still remain disturbed.

It was 8 o' clock in the morning when she stood in front of her house to gaze at the never-ending sight of garbage - - a mountain of filth that would later bring tragedy and death to hundreds of residents of the Payatas dumpsite. In a split second, as she vividly recalls, all hell broke loose. The earth rumbled as the mountain of garbage came rolling down, burying her neighbor alive farther down below. July 10 - the fateful morning when the nation was shocked at the tragedy that occurred.

As for Aling Norma, life became much more different. Her house stood ten steps away from the buried shanties so she miraculously survived. As she tells us how she managed to run away from the waves of garbage falling down from the mountain, her tears roll down, a sign that everything is still as fresh as the day it happened.

"Apat na anak ko ang nalibing ng buhay at may isa pang hindi nakikita" (Four of my children were buried alive and one is still missing). She speaks while watching Backhoes dig up piles of garbage in front of her.

As she recalls, they were the squatters behind the Bureau of Internal Revenue Building. They were relocated to a site called "Lupang Pangako" (Promised Land). At that time, the place was still filled with grass. But when the Quezon City government turned it into a dumpsite, all garbage coming from Metro Manila was dumped there, turning it from fields of grass into a mountain of trash that we see today.

A minor landslide occurred during the mid-90's, but this "warning" was not heeded by the residents living there and by the government that watched them. Last July 10 2001, a year after the Cherry Hills Subdivision tragedy in Rizal, the east side of the Payatas Garbage Mountain collapsed due to continuous rains, burying hundreds of families under tons of rotting filth. Overnight, hundreds of cadavers were recovered, while some survivors were lucky enough to be alive. Throughout that week, bodies piled up in the nearby basketball court. The stench of death hanged over Payatas while garbage piled up in Quezon City.

It was a week not to be forgotten, yet somehow the people in Payatas are trying to fill up the spaces left by the tragedy that happened only in this country.

Today, around 210 recovered bodies were already identified by their respective families while 49 others remain unidentified. Aling Nena claims that there are about 75 people still buried under the piles of garbage while many of the residents living there were relocated somewhere else. Out of the 8 areas of Barangay Payatas that was hit by the landslide, five were completely wiped out. The task force assigned by the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) in the area will terminate their rescue operations of October 15 while the Payatas dumpsite will cease its operation temporarily while plans about its future development is still being formulated.

There are rumors that the sight might be turned into a memorial park in memory of the numerous victims of the tragedy.

As for Aling Nena and the rest of the residents living in the area, they will not wait for the government to relocate them again somewhere. They had accepted to let the tragedy be left in the deepest recesses of their minds.

Leaving the dumpsite, we can still see the despair in the faces of the residents caused by the tragedy despite their smiling faces and seemingly normal lives. While the site lingers in our view, over the distance lay the municipalities of San Mateo and Montalban and the La Mesa Water Dam.

- with reports from Kapre

---

Article written during my junior college year for our news magazine finals project. Grammar lapses and word usage were left uncorrected to give respects to its young aspiring writers. Now that my zest to experience the other side of life has been awakened, expect more blog entries that delves on these subjects from now on.

Thank you Gibo for letting my eyes see again.

Wee Planner

These are some of the things you miss when you are still the class president of an entire Journalism batch in the Royal and Pontifical University of Espana:

[Word document rummaged from my old hard disk]

---

3C5 WEEKLY ADVISORY (Feb. 22 – Mar. 1)

• Please Support the Following Journalism Week Activities:

- Thursday:
Media and Civil Society: New Prospects under a New Government - - 4:30 – 9:00 PM

- Friday: Beat Reporting: Room 102 - - 9 – 11 AM
Guest Speakers: Dave Veridiano, Marian Trinidad and Ambeth Ocampo

- Saturday:
Practicum and Career Orientation - - 1-5 PM
Guest Speakers: Doland Castro, Robert Roque, Coney Cacnio and Jason Brizuela. (Incoming Journ juniors are invited to attend)

• To those who still have not submitted their Chapter 2 Thesis please don’t forget to submit it on Saturday, Feb 24.

• Reporting in EP [Experimental Psychology] will begin on Monday, as well as the video presentation of the 2 groups in Filipino [Retorika].
  

• Next coming Saturday will be the submission of Chapter 3.

• Make sure you have submitted your application form for the OJT [On-the-job-training] before the end of February.

• The V [Varsitarian] Pipol request your assistance for the Pautakan Contest. Please ask them for details.

• Happy Birthday to Ms. Curtis: Feb 22 and Mr. Mora: Feb 26. Old Pipol should set an example.
  

• To all those Say Present girls, NO ABSENCES PLEASE!

• All Activities are subject to change.

• Other Activities Include: ____________________
  

Thank you very much and expect more advisories to come.


@ DAMN THOSE WHO WILL TAKE THIS OUT OF THE BOARD! REMEMBER THAT. (BONAK ANG MAGTANGGAL NITO)

---

I wonder if they still remember how I run the class like hell.

On my first year, I had to adopt a federal style of government for more than a semester so each barkada-leader will have a say on every decision I take. The set-up also ensured that all matters involving the class will be complied by everyone.

Having artists, poets, weirdos, renegades, juvenile delinquents, student activists, tweetum girls, conyos and conyas, silent operators, free-spirits, old souls, new age believers and school paper editorial staff members for classmates made my job extremely challenging. To cross one's beliefs or rub one's ego - especially the highly politically charged ones would mean the downfall of the presidency.

But I miss them all... terribly.

With only a single word document to serve as a reminder of my leadership, there is no doubt that, yeah, those were the best days of my life.




* Say Present Girls - Mga kaklaseng babae na nasa bingit ng pagiging FA (Failure due to Absences) sa dami ng kanilang absent sa isang subject.

The Classroom

With undulating voice
he speaks in a podium
of self-sustained secrecy.
By word of mouth,
all rumors about the
innocent blackboard
travels at the speed of light,
swept by chalk dust into
endless space,
becoming tiny bits of
memory scattered
yet linked together by
a bond stronger than
the nuts and bolts
that hold the chairs together.
In a room whose
four walls
speak of partings,
of unshakable bonds
that is meant to break someday,
the crucifix clings dearly
to the wooden wall
as every vibration
resonates an earthly tone
which reminds us of changeable things

which reminds us of fleeting moments
never to happen again.

---

A poem composed in third year college a few weeks before the first semester ends.

If I remember it correctly, it was Louie Jon Sanchez who is speaking in front of the class that afternoon.

All's Fair in Love and War

You once said that you are becoming a man-hater. You, however excluded me among those who haunted you. Well, don't. For I am like them too. Their desire is my desire. I just don't state my proposals openly. Unfortunately, I was drawn too close that I started to fall in love with you. Sorry for you trusted me and I have broken it. I just don't know what to do. Day by day everyone, especially you begins to notice my affection and it made me feel uncomfortable. I promise that soon, I will confront you about my feelings. I will confront you when the time is too late to make another move.

- March, 1999 The Third Insomniac's Pastime

---

Ours is a puppy love story.

She is one of the most gorgeous ladies in class that year. A mestiza from a city down south, she steals men's hearts with her long flowing hair and slender body. Her delicate hands are like poison whose potency leaves a person blindly assured of her undying affection. Her almond eyes whose stares melt anyone it gazes upon, leaves an impression of vulnerability. She is an angel to many, and her soft voice is like music unheard before. Its melody rouses everything that is good in one's heart.

I do not recall how we were introduced. All I remember is that she is not your average lady whose life revolves around boys, shopping, and everything kikay that permeated during our time. She is a lover of life and a lady of high culture. Much as she is pushed aside by those who envy her, those who appreciates her presence worship the very earth she walked.

We become close not because of the way she looks, but because of the way she understands me. Coming from a school, whose values and norms were far old-fashioned from those graduating from the exclusive ones made adjustments for me a daunting task. Like her, I was an outsider. While many others find my presence strange, she embraced me like one of her own. I am her protector and in return, she is my shock absorber.

Months pass, her vulnerability reveals itself through her weak academic performance and a long distance relationship that is getting nowhere. Others in class tried to get her attention by professing their love with flowers in one hand and with disgustingly expensive chocolates in another. She turns them down and instead seeks solace with friends, as she sorts out her life during those turbulent months of our freshman year.

Things between us would have remained platonic, if not for her closeness that tips the balance of emotions absorbed by my juvenile heart.

As she becomes more vulnerable, I become more protective. I am intent on saving her sanity that in the end I traded mine for hers. She became my infatuation, my source of happiness and the reason of my sleeplessness.

The only thing missing is my confession.

However, I know that I have no chance if I decide to take a risk and expose my emotions. She is an angel, and I am just a mere mortal whose borrowed immortality is attributed to her presence. I would have kept my emotions only if not for the lingering feeling that my love should be known.

And so I did confess my emotions at a time when there's no chance I can get a heartwarming reply.

---

It was late afternoon, the sun casts a long lonely shadow over the skyscrapers in Ortigas. We were strolling around Shang-ri La Plaza for a simple hang out when I decided to stop by an overlooking deck near the elevator and tell her my feelings.

I could not remember how the words fell into places. I knew I was stuttering for sure because I am never comfortable with confrontations. I tried to shield us from passing people for I know that their presence would only make a chicken out of me. My words were loaded with emotions, but such ammo was not enough to dent even the surface of her heart.

My words were a declaration of surrender and that afternoon, I got my clearest reply.

"I wish us to remain friends." she utters while both our heads leaned over the stainless railings looking at the shoppers below.

"I understand. That is why I confessed it to you, now that I'm sure that everything will be forgotten when summer begins."

---

It was the first and last time I was turned down by someone. There were others who came after, but never did I open my heart like what I did for her. In my successive attempts, underground operations became my battle manual and ambiguity of gestures became my strongest tactic.

Years passed, I entered relationships only to fail them after. Meanwhile, I never learned to express my emotions out of fear of being rejected. The memory of being turned down probed itself deep into my psyche that the only way I let someone open me is through some sensual maneuverings.

This is my story.

Had it not for a friend who's heart got a severe beating this evening, I would not recall this memory and remember how it is to risk loving, only to lose that person in the end.

We have no control over someone's emotion, just the way someone has no control over the matters of our heart.

The girl and I became friends after the confession until both of us graduated from college. Sadly, we never achieved such degree of closeness again nor we talked about my misguided infatuation one early summer of our first year in college. Ah, the price of loving someone.

All's Fair in Love and War.

Philippine Daily Inquirer

The year was 2001. We were young bucks eager to serve the nation by writing everything we saw around us. We were aspiring beat reporters, investigative journalists and lifestyle and sports writers who wished to make a difference by honing our craft and make use of it through any available means. Our mentors were mostly professionals working in different newspapers - namely from Philippine Daily Inquirer, Tempo and Manila Bulletin. Driven by our intense passion to embrace the outrageous and the unconventional, we preferred to follow the most notorious but bullied newspaper of our time - The Philippine Daily Inquirer.

It was a time of great upheaval. Erap Estrada was about to stand trial for graft charges and Gloria Macapagal-Arrovo had just resigned from her post in the DSWD. There was storm brewing in the House of Representative and the Senate over the balance of power in national politics. And we were there as witness to history. Had we been given the signal to storm the places of dissent to write everything, we would do so without a blink of an eye.

PDI was the opposition. They never hesitated putting everything that was wrong in the country and the truth they sold swayed public opinions to their cause. They were in the forefront of the coming changes and we, as journalism students rode with them. We wrote like we're PDI reporters, drafted editorials like we're PDI columnists and we, with one voice declared Conrado De Quiros our hero. I don't know what my classmates opinions were back then, but I was bent on being shaped by what I get from my favorite broadsheet.

The hands of time rolled like the rise and set of the sun. We moved on from our journalistic aspirations and we found ourselves in different jobs - serving different interests that are sometimes opposing one another. But at times I look back and remember how driven we were back then to make a difference,

I realize that the past still echoes towards the present. No wonder, I am still as open to politics like I used to - when it was still my breakfast, lunch, dinner and yosi breaks for the day.

Things have changed. I have become a lowly outsourcing agent in some obscure company who dabbles as an aspiring creative writer on the sidelines. But when I wish to return to my roots and bask in the brilliance known as my senior years in college.

I click on the inq.net website to remember them all.

---

Entry written shortly after reading inq's op-ed piece, "Nakakahiya" dated today. The commentary is about how the opposition in Pampanga resorts to so many different tactics to depose it's current governor, Among Ed Panlilio for dubious charges such as loss of confidence to even non-attendance in meetings with the President.

I don't know what my Kapampangan friends think of him, but in a time when everything sucks about the country - especially its president, the only truth I wish to believe and see comes from the only newspaper who shaped the way I think.

Resistance

The sky was so dark outside, like alien spaceships were about to land*. Yet, instead of heading home to take cover, I made a direct flight from Philcoa to Pasay to help an old friend who's about to move out from his apartment. This old friend, is someone who's been with me since my straight days. We've been buddies and even though we haven't talked for more than a year, one text message from him was enough for me to respond to his call.

I became his kargador, and it doesn't matter if our reunion ended that way. After all, it adds up to my buff-daddy effort which I am seriously undertaking as of this moment.

This old friend of mine was my everything back in our younger days. I was his sidekick. I looked after his back that there were times I reminded him personally of our assignments in class whenever he wasn't around. My home used to be his staging ground when he's in the center of the city and he did sleepovers without the awkwardness that I would surely feel if it would happen today.

We were so close that there were times he did remind me that we're not in a relationship.

But back then, it doesn't matter. I wasn't feeling anything except that I am his ever-loyal friend.

---

I arrived past seven at his place. He was almost finished packing up his belongings and in between eating our dinner, we updated each other's lives. He is currently dating a girl and since he knows about my life way before our other straight friends found out about me, he didn't mind asking about my homosexuality. I find our subject about me quite awkward knowing that he is a straight guy

and as far as I know, when every straight man can be converted, it is not proper for a non-straight to tell openly about his life.

When the time to move began, I showed him what power really meant. I carried his boxes of books and papers which he needed for school; His hiking bag was on my back and his piles of dirty clothes, crumpled inside a trash bag was hanging on my arms. He kept on saying, "sure ka pare, mabigat yan?" to which I proudly responded, "thank God for Eclipse" because in my weaker state, I would have passed out with such heavy baggage.

So I was there for him, like I used to

Just when things get difficult and he needed a helping hand to sort things out.

---

The whole move-out would have been a breeze, had it not for the tension rising inside me. My friend is a good-looking guy. I'm sorry but I can't tell details right now, but back in our younger days, he was the ultimate crush of everyone. Lucky for me, I was his confidant so I knew many things about him that nobody among his admirers knew.

But like I said, things have changed and the friction towards him is something that disturbed me a lot.

Like all guys I know, he loves walking around naked. Even if age has made his tummy a little bigger now, he is still hot enough to get another person's attention. Being someone, whose thoughts about straight men have been twisted by sexual preference, his naked glory distracted me. While lying on the couch with his legs dangling in precarious positions and his undies almost exposed, I cannot help but wonder if he's conveying a message that my gay side would have easily understood. Had our conversation shifted from thoughts about me being homosexual into something more sexual - like his hetero-sexcapades, I would almost certainly read his gestures as provocations.

How sad that this is the legacy left by my own carnal history. After years of experience being with another guy - in a quiet room where anything could happen, I now have this mental fixation that when being left with a half-naked guy in a quiet room - is always a sign of doom.

What's embarrassing about our situation is that most likely, my friend was not aware that his gestures were being read differently. It was an act of hostility even to a non-straight friend he have grown to trust with the passing of time.

Shame on me.

Looking back at that moment where both of us were half-naked, smoking a stick of cigarette while talking about anything under the sun, I could not help but wonder why I felt strange about him. It never happened when Master Z, Roy and I were half naked, drunk and guzzling a bottle of beer while watching a gay porn in our friend's apartment early last year.

Was it because for the first time, now that I'm aware of myself as someone different, did I finally realize that for all the years we have been buddies,

I was always attracted to him?

Pre, nakalimutan mo magchange (ng damit). hehehe. its okei pre. At least may extra gamit ka na dito... Pare, ingat ka at maraming salamat talaga.. kitakits... Bisitahin mo ako ha.

God forbid, no.

---

*Misterhubs' twitter entry.

Alyas Jen Marasigan (First Part)

Ang sabi nila, lahat daw ng mga PLU ay may tinatagong feminine side.

Karamihan sa kanila ay unaware o in-denial dito, lalo na yung mga discreet at mga straight acting. Ang iba naman ay lumilitaw sa kanilang taste sa music, TV shows, interests o kaya naman sa reaction sa bawat sitwasyon. The rest ay todo-todong nang niyakap ang kanilang effeminity na kahit sa salita, sa kilos at sa pananamit ay kinarir na upang maging ganap ang kanilang dream role na maging babae.

Sa kaso ko, aware ako sa aking feminine side. It breathes life into me. Nakakatuwa nga, sa tinagal-tagal ko itong dineny ay noong ganap lang akong naging PLU natanggap na meron pala akong ganitong trait.

Bahagi ng aking feminity ay dahil sa aking upbringing. Lumaki ako sa isang Matriarchal na pamilya kung saan ang mga nanay ang mas malakas ang impluwensya sa mga anak na lalaki at hindi ang mga tatay. Palibhasa'y babae ang utol ko kaya naman noong lumalaki kami ay mas ineencourage ni Mama na palibutan kami ng mga kababaihan. Ito ay dahil sa takot na baka gawan ng hindi mabuti ang kapatid ko sakaling lalaki ang makitira sa amin.

Bunga nito, kami lang ng tatay ko ang lalaki sa bahay.

At ang masaklap dun ay bihira lang umuwi ng bahay ang erpats ko.

---

Bago ako tinuli ay soprano ang boses ko.

Makailang beses na akong pinagtawanan dito, lalo na kapag nababanggit ng teacher noong elementary ang mga katagang "Yes hija??" tuwing meron akong katanungan habang siya naman ay nakatalikod at nagsusulat sa pisara. Meron rin akong kaklase noong first year high school. Sabi niya sa akin ay iwasan ko daw tumawag sa bahay nila dahil boses babae daw ako. Baka daw kung ano pa ang isipin ng mga magulang niya, lalo na't tumatawag lang ako para makipagkwentuhan sa kanya.

Simula noon ay umiwas na rin siya sa akin.

Nawala lang itong stigmang ito nang ako ay natuli at napabilang sa mga grupo ng lalaki sa klase. Simula kasi noon ay hindi ko na ugaling bumarkada sa mga babae dahil hindi ko rin naman kadalasan kasundo sa interests ang mga ito. May mga pagkakataon rin kasi na pinaplastik ako ng mga kaibigan kong tsiks noon kaya bandang huli ay ako na ang nagpasyang lumayo sa kanila. Naroon rin na dahil puro babae ang mga tao sa bahay ay ako na ang gumawa ng paraan para isalba ang natitirang pagkalalaki sa akin. Sa kasamaang palad nga lang ay mas identified ako sa mga babae kaya naman wala ring grupo ng mga lalaki ang gusto makipagkaibigan sa akin.

Dahil dito, napabilang ako sa grupo ng mga nerds, outcasts at may mga future maging prinsesa noong mga unang taon ko sa high school. Nagkahiwa-hiwalay rin kami noong third year dahil iba ang electives section ng mga barkada ko kesa sa akin. Naiwan tuloy ulit akong nag-iisa . Mabuti na lang at naawa sa akin yung isang grupo ng mga lalaki sa section ko. Naisip siguro nila na ayus naman akong makisama kaya sinali nila ako sa kanilang grupo.

Simula noon, naging puro all-boys na ang mga kasama ko. Yung mga tsik naman ay naging extension ko na lang.

Ngunit sa kabila nito, naging mahirap pa rin ang adjustment. Masyado na kasi akong ginawang malambot ng upbringing ko. Kahit na puro straight nga ang mga barkada ko, naroon at alam kong pinagdududahan rin nila ang kilos ko. May bestprend akong nairita sa akin kasi daw masyado ko siyang "inaalagaan." Ito ring tropa ito ang nag-sabi sa akin ng "I love you" sa phone nang minsan siyang nalasing at nakikipaggaguhan sa kanyang mga katropa. Meron naman akong ka-tropa na halos linggo-linggo ay nakikitulog sa amin. Trip niya na sabay kaming mag-review tuwing may exams kasi daw, bukod sa kino-coach ko siya ay pinapakopya ko pa siya tuwing exam period.

Isang taon matapos kaming mag-iba ng section ay narinig ko na lang ang press release niyang boyprend ko daw siya. Siyempre walang naniwala. Pati nga ako ay kumagat na lang sa kalokohan niya eh. Palibhasa'y straight kami mag-isip, kaya kahit na todo ako magbigay ng atensyon sa katropa ay hindi namin ito binibigyan ng meaning. Para sa akin ay tamang pakisama lang ang lahat. Ganun kasi ako bumarkada.

Mabuti na lamang at sa kabila ng kanilang mga pagdududa, ang pagka-koboy at walang patawad na pagkasenti ko ang nagbigay sa akin ng place sa bawat grupong sinalihan ko. Rigid kasi ang buhay straight at ang pag-eexpress ng emosyon ay hindi talaga permissible sa lalaki. Ngunit dahil kailangan rin naman ng emotional support ng isang lalaki lalo na't wala siyang girlfriend na mapapagsabihan ng kanyang issues at problema, ang barkada ang sumasalo dito.

Yun naman ang expertise ko.

Sabi nga ng isa naming tropa ni Kapre noon. Kung si Kapre daw ang kamao, ako naman daw ang puso ng tropa. Hindi ko nga alam kung bakit niya kami nakumpara, lalo pa't sobrang opposite kami ni Kapre.

Ang alam ko lang, basta sumapit ang madaling araw, may sleep-over ang barkada at nagkaka-antukan na, ako ang paboritong kausap ng mga tao.

Role ko na yata maging comforter simula noon.

---

-tobecontinued-

Ishi - Bashi

It was past lunch.

I went to his place to hang-out. We were friends since high school and at that time, both of us were exploring our newfound world in college. He was studying in a state university in Manila while I was staking my position in the Royal Pontifical University. That afternoon, he invited me to try something interesting for a teenager's restless mind; Something I would never thought I'd have an encounter with in my entire life. It was an epektos, which most of us would cringe to hear, the moment somebody say the magic word.

In his hand was a small sachet packed with tiny white granules that resembled like tiny crystals. This synthetic dust - destroyer of many lives, was acquired from shady sources surrounding his depressed neighborhood. I don't know how he was able to get one, but it was for all accounts, forbidden to possess. However during those days, it doesn't matter to me. Being an explorer in those early days, I thought, I'd rather have the experience rather than live a life without never feeling how it is to be under its spell. For me, it was an epitome of how to be cool.

Once I have the experience, I would be as astig as those around me.

He opened the sachet and in my ears, I hear a screeching sound of a siren coming from inside the contents. It was of course, just imaginary. The thought of trying something that might destroy me for life somewhat left a tinge of dread as he dashed the contents in a half-folded aluminum foil, which he was holding. The granules rolled until it settled in the middle of the foil. Then, he took a cylindrical object from his pocket and instructed me what to do with the paraphernalia in front of me.

"Susunugin ko to, tapos yung usok, yun ang hihigupin mo ha," he told me.

As a demonstration, he did the first shot. The white granules began to melt and the smoke from its remains went directly to the pipe, that he positioned just above the foil. After a few seconds, the inhaled smoke came out of his nose - the byproduct of the synthetic crystals which had already triggered a synaptic response from his brain.

After his first puff came my turn.

"Itutok mo yung toother sa foil. Wag ka magsasayang ha, P100 pesos isa niyan."

Hesitant at what will I do, I closed my eyes as the smoke began to accumulate inside my nostrils. Since I don't know how to smoke yet, The inhalation I did scattered some of the precious spirits around me. He was telling me to puff it, which I did. But unfortunately, so many granules were already wasted, that I wasn't able to capture its essence. We did several rounds until we have emptied out the contents of the sachet. By that time, my head was somewhat heavy, but I was still cool enough to be aware of my surroundings.

"Feel mo bro, nag-aalsa ang balat mo?" He commented.

It didn't take long for us to settle down. As a post-chill session, we went outside his house to hang-out elsewhere. I felt restless and in order to counter the effect of the white granules, I suggested that we go to Robinson's Place instead. He agreed to my suggestion since it would be my treat. Nevertheless, the restlessness did not stop there. We walked and talked from the mall to the edge of CCP - at the breakwater which used to be our favorite hang-out when watching the sun set in Manila Bay until it was utterly destroyed by a freak storm several years later.

The Ishi sessions never happened again. My friend was also able to save his future and declare himself abuse-free before the school year had ended. As for me, I found the confidence to match my peer's "coolness" through other means - which I later realized that would never be found in doing deviant activities. My other meaningful and life-changing experiences armed me with the "coolness" to get ahead of them before we graduated in college.

More than eight years later, I had encounters with other substances such as Tsongkii and Poppers, which I embraced as part of my life-exploration agenda. I could have taken the Happy Pill during the height of my clubber days in Libis and Timog if someone offered me one. Unfortunately, my stinginess prevented me from trying that substance, even if my late father had accused me many times of being addicted to that pill.

Looking back, I sometimes wonder whether such brush with substances had a long-term effect on me. Of course, I am confident that I am drug-free, and that I never became dependent from these substances.

But.

When I hear that people look up to me because of what my life is right now, it makes me wonder if they would still feel the same once I reveal that

Yeah...

Pulsars are Neutron stars that came from a collapsed stellar object, which secretly keeps a Blackhole within its tiny rotating beacon of light.

---

Ishi-Bashi
you make me fly
high above the
addicted sky...

- Ishi-Bashi,
Poem Book Five: Everything Begins At The End

Da Kid Chronicles One

The sun was blazing orange amidst a late-june afternoon sky. The semester had just begun and being a junior in the Journalism major, one's social existence for the remaining two years of his college life depended on the people he would get chummies with during the first few months of the school year.

Darrell and Omar, the two tag-team buddies from the morning section the previous year, had just doused my burning desire to be the third wheel in their tropa. I was forcing myself too much on them, they said many years later, that in the end, I got into Darrell's nerves. "Kain muna kami ha," he said during one of our breaks. Being good in deciphering the subliminal message between the words he said, I understood that he don't want me for company.

Finding Leslie loitering in the corridor after the batman and robin partners dumped me, I tried to befriend him since he is the only guy in the class who had not found a social circle yet. Angelo, my 6'2 tropa from my section the year before, who had also chosen Journalism as his major was still nowhere to be found. Probably he had extended his summer break since that year, monsoon season only arrived in July.

In those days, boys tend to group themselves together especially if their class is dominated by strong and aggressive females. I must admit, we were just around 12 guys in the class including the two gays. (i have not yet crossed over the fence yet so I'm not yet included) But our pride and self-deceiving machismo made bonding among us proved quite a challenge. In fact, it would take another semester before the first solid group of guys in the class would form under the name Prestigious Group Of Companies.

A week later before Angelo showed up in class, a small sturdy guy around 5'4 in height, fair skinned and had small rounded black eyes sat beside Darrell and Omar. He was our new classmate. Leslie, who I had befriended gazes outside the door still longing for his barkada from his previous section to appear and check him out. He was still suffering from a "peer hang-over" and it would take another semester before he accepts the fact that all of them have new lives already.

That same week, I was given the chance to hang out with this new kid whom everyone calls Ace. It appeared that we had the same taste in music (Smashing Pumpkins), poetry (Short and full of angst) and even for being senti (He was not actually the senti, he simply rode with my whinings). One afternoon, as we walked along Espana to get a ride home, I decided to wait for him to get a ride first before I walk my way to Vicente Cruz. Suddenly he told me, "mauna ka na, hindi ako babae para intaying makasakay."

For someone who is used to wait for a companion to leave first before leaving the scene, his statement was very new to me. In the days, months and years that followed, he would eventually teach me how to become a stronger man.

In my six years of being a PLU, I systematically distanced myself with all the straight guys I knew, except for seven. One of these guys I kept contact was Ace. For 40 days beginning from this entry, I will include some vignettes that would reveal how deep and important my friendship was with this guy; that it even crossed the divide that I imposed upon myself when I embraced my new preference.

You see, people with different backgrounds or new ideals adopted, will stick together for the sake of some shared pinagsamahan moments that continue to burn their spirits. In case of Ace, he did his part in making me the person who I am today. In retelling some of our shared stories, which he played a major part on would be my own little way of returning the favor. It is my assurance that he will never be forgotten.

This blog, even if small and mostly unheard of, will be the key to his immortality in this existence.

Show And Tell

Second night of my tropa's wake.

Ex-girlfriend brought her new boyfriend along
and introduces him to everyone.
Ex-boyfriend tries to make deadma of the scene
hoping nobody would notice how uncomfortable
and artificial his gestures are.

Ex-girlfriend introduces the new boyfriend
to her ex-boyfriend;
Ex-boyfriend cordially shakes the hand
of the new boyfriend, trying to be sport and cool
and all to the new guy.

Ex-boyfriend seats on the other side of the table
mulling over his thoughts of tagging
Icerose back in that
wake.
or better yet,
bring his boyfriend along
and introducing him as his asawa.

With the show and tell happening among
ex-lovers since last night,
Pareng Ace must be
laughing hard in the afterlife.

First One

In the crossroads of my mind
I stopped, kissed the rain and
smelled the glory of the moon.
Just to see you and love you
in a time that will never come.


---

A class discussion on poetry lead to an exercise where the professor asked each student to compose a poem according to the elements of poetry he mentioned during the discussion. In those times, all I know is that I'm only good with history. Words were never my dominion. But the poem I composed above, unexpectedly served as a floodgate for me to discover my penchant and natural affinity with writing.

The year was 1998. I was in first year college and struggling to adapt to the pop culture, which my life in high school had never prepared me for. Shorty before my bouts with anxiety, insecurity and paranoia deluded my first two years in the university, I armed myself with the gift to express my sentiments on parchment - and kept them well hidden for future references.

This evening, while rummaging again the trinkets corner of my closet, I found the booklet where my neophyte poems were written. Between then and now are already galaxies apart, nonetheless, I am glad that despite those troubled times, I have learned to value my own history.

Since my haiku poem about a cat, which I have written in grade six and was accused by my reading teacher to be copied elsewhere was lost, I consider this poem the first of my writings.

The Westerly Winds Of Ice Rose

ninong joms, tumawag ka raw? thanks sa greeting ha, sensya na medyo busy ako ngayon... miss you. sana makapag-dinner uli tayo like last year. mwuaaah! may gusto ako itanong sayo kaya lang nahihiya akong itanong sayo...maybe when the right time comes...miss you...luv u :)

---

Bakit...
pagkatapos ng napakahabang
panahong pananahimik nating dalawa,
ang iyong mensahe
ay biglang pumukaw
sa natutulog kong damdaming
matagal ko nang ibinaon
nang ang ating tandhana'y
sinadyang hindi
magkru-krus ng landas?

Bakit
nang nagreply ako
ng message sa iyo,
biglang naging
iba ang
tono ng pagsabi ko ng

I miss you too.

---

For background story, refer to "Ice Rose" entry

My Dear Blog, I'd Like You To Know That.. (Act II)

Two Minus ER

---

One summer of 03, father decided to take the journey of his lifetime. Getting out of the financial slump his newly established company had gone through was no mean feat. When he felt that things are getting more promising to the publishing company, he took the first opportunity to see the lands beyond the country and Europe was his first destination.

Meanwhile that same summer, I had a great career as a lifestyle and entertainment reporter in Manila Times for my ojt. Such position not only gave me prominence but also the adoration of the girls and gays in our class since it was their dream job in the first place. Perhaps I was just lucky enough to use my PR skills at the right moment when the news editor was interviewing me. When asked where do I want to be assigned, I simply said "sa features po." That's why they assigned me in the lifestyle section.

Anyway, since my father needed someone to look after his business while he was away... with his "business partner (aka the mistress), he asked me to cut my servitude to the broadsheet and take over his job while enjoying his trip in Europe.

I remembered that evening when he brought me the news; I was playing a PC game when he barged into my room and told me that he will be out of the country and I need to take his place for two weeks while he's not around. My first reaction was fear and hesitation. After all, how could a 19-year old manage the affairs of a national newspaper run by an experienced journalist like my father without getting into trouble with the government who accused us of being a porno tabloid. Besides, not only would I run the operations of the business, I would also have to write a columm on his behalf every single day.

He assured me that the editors know what to do in such situation and if I want, I could tone down the female models in the front page just to allay my fears of getting raided. Everything will rest upon my decisions, he told me. Given the fact that I had no choice at all, I followed his orders and observed for two days and two nights the operations of the company.

---

When he finally left the country, all systems were finally in place. The managing editor felt my anxieties so he showed me some of the perks of being the boss. A day after I took over, he brought me to one of the photo shoots being conducted to promote the models who appeared on our front page daily. Yeah, I did see nude girls squeezing their boobies and touching their pussies. I even had an opportunity to have my pic taken while squeezing the boobs of a starlet (which I still keep hidden away from the rest of my photo albums).

However, if there was any downside to being the new boss, I think the loneliness of being up there and alone proved to be too much for my sanity. Fortunately, I could always call my classmate (who eventually became my girlfriend 7 months later) just to cheer me up. My tropa would also occassionally drop by for a visit just to make fun at me while I was giving instructions to the managers.

Since it was my first time to manage the business, I had to be on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week. To make things more efficient, I decided to detach myself from my family and live within the office premises during the entire duration my dad was away. This way, I would go down with the company if ever something happened to it under my responsibility. Besides, the freedom I got was too awesome, if my mindset then was the same as to now, I will take every chance to fool around and exercise my power as the dominator.

Imagine, those were the only times I could walk around with bodyguards flanking me. Such experience may never happen again in this lifetime.

---

The first week was hell. My routine would start early in the afternoon. The accounting and circulation department had just finished doing the reports I will review and tally for the day. The editorial department had just barely begun working on tomorrow's paper, which I have to wait until 5 pm. In school, we learned to keep an open ear for breaking news, so the whole press time, my tv was on and it was tuned to the news. After editorial work had finished, I would sometimes sneak out to have a little private time for myself. Usually, I would go to La Salle to check out the newest trance music available. When I return to the office at 8 pm, the printing had already begun while the cashier's department had just opened their dispatching site in port area. I would start writing my columm at 10 pm then the driver would shuttle me to the dispatching site to get the partial daily income. Then it's lights off at around 2 am.

As the countdown begins for my dad's return, I had this feeling that I've run the company more efficiently (operations-wise) than my dad ever did in his life. However, what sets his newspaper away from other tabloids is its appeal. My dad was extremely creative. He calls himself a visionary during his younger years. However, I never appreciated that side of him until now. Many years later, I was called again to help him run the business after his business partner had left. Our leadership difference was so notable that it created a rift between us. Eventually that rift would be the mitsa to our great conflict that tore us apart, which I failed to settle before he passed away.

When the final day came, I made sure everything was in order. My dad's office, which was a total mess when I arrived two weeks before was so squeaky clean, not even a single mouse would dare sneak behind the books behind his desk. From the editorial department's room to the accounting and circulation's room, the change was so apparent that the employees themselves felt a little sense of tranquility while working. Those statements were relayed to me weeks later after I left by my dad's sister who dropped by from time to time during my tenure.

Before the turnover, I took the opportunity to make a closing speech, which was actually written in my columm. It was meant to wrap things up and thank everyone who behaved accordingly during my time. The essay, written in Filipino, served as my best proof that once, my dad's publishing was a utopian paradise full of perks and opportunities for expansion. Too bad, the next time I took over his position permanently after he died, the same publishing, which I took care back in the summer of 03 was already in complete tatters.

It took less than five months before it, too, followed its creator to the grave.

--

From: The Bull
Date: May, 2003
Columm Title: Sa Pansamantalang Katapusan

o0o

Pagkauwi ko ng bahay, pipilitin kong muling gawing normal ang buhay ko. Nakakapagnakaw pala ng kabataan ang mabigat na responsibilidad at pagdedesisyon para sa isang kumpanya. Alam kong ito'y patikim lang sa akin, taon ang lilipas, muli akong babalik dito upang gampanan ang trabahong nakalaan na sa akin.

Mapalad pa nga ako, hindi gaanong mabigat ang buhos ng problema sa loob ng dalawang linggong namahala ako dito. Ang operasyon ng kumpanya'y nanatiling normal at ang mga insidente... ay nanatiling maliit at mababaw.

o0o

Pagkatapos nito, pagsasawaan ko na ang natitira ko pang bakasyon bago magsimula ulit ang pasukan. Matagal-tagal muli bago lumabas ang mga opinyon ko sa pahinang ito. Sana'y naliwanagan kayo sa mga isyung binulatlat ko sa loob ng dalawang linggong magkakasama tayo. Lagi niyo lang pakakatandaan mga tol, ito'y tinig ng kabataan, tinig ng henerasyon ko.

Hanggang sa muli dear readers! Salamat.

4C5

One by one, we trickled at the gates of the Palace after coming from our first subject at school. We had to attend our second and last subject for the day, which because of a special case of a professor, must be held outside of the university and in one of the big offices of the press undersecretary. Sometimes, when we were lucky, classes are held at the very press conference room where the press secretary announces the presidential happenings for the day. Although, we were not allowed to join the press corps in hurling questions to the secretary, at least we had a first hand look at how news were being made at the halls of Malacanang.

Summer was fast approaching. It was our final second semester in college and ironically in our major, the closer you get to graduation day, the lesser workload you have in school. Since writing thesis was almost like having a Cosplay with the thesis advisers and panelists and doing feature articles and video reports that were inspired ala Probe Team were done in a fashion almost parallel to having an out-of-town field trips, those days were the best of our lives.

Who would have thought that Journalism was all about writing, writing and writing? Back then, I felt more alive and aware of the world compared to these days where all I do everyday is sit on the computer and work eight hours a day just to make money.

You see, when you leave the dream-state back in college, what would greet you after is a sense of longing for those days when everything is just fun to you.

---

It took us five years to organize a class reunion - which compared to other majors in our college, only comprised of forty-two students. The preparation was done in just a matter of two weeks and the venue was the same place where we held our christmas parties when we were still Journ students.

Out of the forty two from our batch, less than half came - despite the endless reminders and invitations for everyone to come. It seems like some are not that interested to show up, while others are just too busy to take a break in their careers and for once, become a pseudo-journ student again. Nevertheless, it was fun and memorable: Exes are talking again after years of ignoring one another; open forum that revealed the secret lives of the people who came to the party; and personal disputes that were left unresolved back in college appears to have been resolved in just one night.

There were countless attempts to organize a reunion before, but nothing had prospered out of the yahoogroups. Some say that this one was only successful because the former class-president personally called for such reunion and he immediately delegated all the task of inviting people to former classmates who have stronger ties and PR skills to get everyone interested in this once-in-a-lifetime event.

In short, not only was he involved in this project but also his Vice President, his secretary, and everyone else who has the networking ability to encourage their circle of friends to join.

---

The reunion could be considered a success in many ways. In fact, others who showed up thought that the party laid the foundation for future reunions. Pizzas, tacos, roasted chickens, spongecakes filled the dining table. What's nice about the food that were served was that everything were just a contributions from those who came. Even the San Mig Light and the two bottles of Jose Cuervo who took away all our inhibitions that night came from the president and his all-male barkada.

If there is something I'm really happy about how the reunion turned out - especially during the open forum/inuman session that lasted till morning, it is that I would always be thankful to my classmates who already knew my preference yet understood its sensitivity in front of my straight tropa. They could have grilled me at the open forum but instead, they decided to open up some things about my past heterosexual lovelife instead.

---

I don't know if a reunion would happen again, but everyone seems optimistic about it. The former class president said that as long as the place - that holds so many memories of our journ lives remain available, then calling such event won't be as difficult as other organizers have encountered.

Looking back, five years isn't really a long time - unless you meet a former quiet girl classmate who used to be as big as a whale then suddenly showed up very slim and remarkably unrecognizable at the reunion. What's ironic about her is that we used to call her the "Miss Universe" of our class because of her finesse and elegance in doing things, even her way of eating fishballs before was classy. The boys who came to the reunion remembered her monicker and began calling her again "Miss Universe" all throughout the night.

In the future, there would be more revelations and more success stories to tell. We never talked so much about careers. Next time we meet each other again, such department in our lives would surely be revealed as well.

For the past two days, I used to sulk about how it turned out, maybe because I was expecting more people to come - especially the ones I have personally invited and promised that they would show up. But after having second thoughts as to how things went - despite its minor shortcomings, I think I should still consider the reunion a success.

The mere fact the all-boys faction came to the reunion is a good sign. Another good sign is that the conya/conyo faction and the Varsitarian group were willing to show up and they did. Perhaps there remains a possibility that one day, on the second week of December, everyone in the batch would recieve this certain familiar text message they recieved whenever there were important changes and reminders back when we were journ students:

---

4C5 News Advisory: In the spirit of our long-standing friendship and camaraderie to one another as journalists and former classmates, Please be informed that there will be a Class Reunion this Saturday, December 7, 2007 at Cai's Place. Please check out the yahoo groups for more details.

See you.

Signed.

The President.