The Chickboy Strain

This is what really happened last night.

---

[09:35] Centurion: proud daw ang princesa
[09:35] Centurion: hehehe
[09:36] Centurion: well.. ngayon ka lang niya kasi nakitang ganun...
[09:36] Centurion: ako twice na kitang nakita
[09:36] MuGen: alam mo ba kung ano ang nangyari talaga?
[09:36] Centurion: nangyari na?
[09:37] MuGen: kagabi
[09:37] MuGen: paano nauwi sakin yung chick
[09:37] Centurion: pano nga ba?
[09:37] Centurion: nag cr ako
[09:37] MuGen: yung babae kasi
[09:37] MuGen: lasing na nung abutan natin
[09:37] Centurion: pag balik ko may kalingkisan ka na na chick
[09:37] MuGen: kung kani-kanino dumidikit
[09:37] MuGen: nung una dumikit na siya sa akin
[09:37] MuGen: tingin kaagad ako kay lukayo
[09:37] MuGen: haha kasi kinabahan ako
[09:37] MuGen: tapos nawala yung babae
[09:37] MuGen: lumingkis sa iba
[09:38] MuGen: eh yung mga tangang straight
[09:38] MuGen: hindi marunong umantabay sa chick
[09:38] MuGen: kapag nabubuwal hinahayaan
[09:38] MuGen: hayun, nung tutumba siya nasalo ko kaagad ang siko
[09:38] MuGen: napansin niya, ngumiti sa akin
[09:38] MuGen: hindi ko namalayan
[09:38] Centurion: in fairness joms.. panalo ang ang beauty niya..
[09:38] MuGen: nakasandal na siya sa katawan ko

---

Second to straight-acting men, it is the ladies I hit on whenever I find myself on the dance floor. I cannot resist getting aroused whenever I see curvy hips sway and real boobs bounce to the sound of house music.

The spectacle witnessed by Encantadia at Guillys is just one of the shameless display of lewdness I do whenever I loosen my inhibitions because of the music and alcohol. It was the sexy chick who came to dance with me and had there been no eyes watching us, (especially the girl's best friend) my moves could have been more aggressive. I remember the last time I did swing with a girl by telling her all the sweet nothings I could come up with, I ended up making out - tongue slurping, spit swapping, and cock-boob squeezing - with this fag hag despite being surrounded by gay men inside a bar in Malate.

I bet their eyes were all telling me "kadire" and "ipokrito."

But its just me. The flirting wasn't intentional, I'm just good at making bola.

And despite my tendencies to pull a trick like what Darwin and the rest of the gang have seen last night. I stay faithful to my leanings.

No, I'm not bisexual.


I don't see myself enjoying the mount and hump part when the trick extends up to bed.

---

And when I do end up with a chick in bed. Lemme see, I'll let her take it from behind.

Chronicles of El Tigre (Episode Five)

The chronicles was set to end after its fifth run. Finally, we have ran out of subjects to talk about and the cycle of old conversations took its toll on our shaky friendship. Things have always been the same - him, whining about everything under the sun - and me, listening and fooling around just to keep our daily chats as engaging as possible. There were no new things to talk about and when I introduce stories of my own that we could mince and dissect together throughout the day, in the end, he would just keep a mum. Thus, we began to put some distance. There were days when we never find ourselves chatting despite seeing each other's Yahoo handles online.

It was never my habit to send the first message first - especially in his case, since I tend to lace our online conversations with flirty undertones. It is either he never gets it or simply tolerates such cross-border assaults. There are times I get spooked at how I am able to cross the line and return to my peripheries without being noticed for my provocations.

Sex is a subject I avoid and when he talked about masturbation a few days ago, I changed the topic by asking him about his new workout routine. We also talked about Gymrat23 and Ocim (the guys I referred to in the entry "Spot the Difference") and how he sees those two guys as lovers rather than friends.

"Eh magsyota naman yung dalawang yun eh," El Tigre claimed.

"Tungek! Mag bestfriend lang yung dalawang yun. Nangagago lang para maniwala kayong lahat na magsyota silang dalawa." Of course, I was lying to cover up for the two lovebirds who uncannily professed their romantic feelings in a straight-dominated forum.

El Tigre sent a happy face smiley before we moved on to a new subject.

However, it seems that the longer El Tigre and I chat online, the more we become open to each other. Such openness is something that I dread for attachments may form and I might get tied down to a person I never intend to pursue. Fortunately, he leaves a steady stream of proofs that would thwart my own doubts about his sexuality. I go back to seeing him as a straight guy no matter how affectionate our exchanges had become.

This morning, El Tigre revealed something about himself that would permanently seal my doubts regarding his preference. He spoke about his past relationship for the first time.

[12:02] elTigre: in love
[12:02] elTigre: hay inlove
[12:04] MuGen: ikaw?
[12:04] elTigre: hindi ako
[12:04] elTigre: [insert smiley here]
[12:04] MuGen: akalo ko in love na si tigre
[12:04] MuGen: tutuwa si mugen pag ganun
[12:12] elTigre: hahaha
[12:12] elTigre: gusto ko si mugen ma inlove
[12:12] MuGen: haha
[12:12] MuGen: ayaw
[12:12] elTigre: tatanda na si mugen e kailangan na mag asawa
[12:12] elTigre: [insert smiley here]
[12:12] MuGen: yoko
[12:13] MuGen: ikaw na lang.
[12:13] elTigre: ako em nkita ako knina sa bldg
[12:13] elTigre: crush
[12:13] elTigre: [insert smiley here]
[12:13] MuGen: talaga?
[12:13] elTigre: sa hp nag tatrabaho
[12:13] elTigre: [insert smiley here]
[12:13] MuGen: bugaw ka natin!
[12:13] elTigre: mukang bata pa e
[12:13] MuGen: talaga
[12:13] MuGen: bebot?
[12:13] elTigre: nkita mo ba ang ex ko pala
[12:13] MuGen: hindi pa
[12:13] elTigre: malamang bebot
[12:13] MuGen: nasa facebook mo
[12:13] MuGen: ?
[12:14] elTigre: ay di pala
[12:14] elTigre: kasi mukang inocente
[12:14] MuGen: di bagay
[12:14] elTigre: sa multiply ko
[12:14] MuGen: dapat palaban
[12:14] MuGen: sa multiply mo
[12:14] MuGen: sino dun
[12:14] elTigre: ice
[12:14] elTigre: loko talgang palaban
[12:14] elTigre: ay di ko ata kaya yun a
[12:14] MuGen: bakit?
[12:15] elTigre: sabagay maganda inocente tapos palaban sa
[12:15] elTigre: hahaha
[12:15] elTigre: tingnan mo sa multiply pero naka provate ata sya e
[12:15] elTigre: taaas ang standard ng tigre e
[12:16] MuGen: men ang ganda ah!
[12:17] elTigre: ayus nu
[12:17] elTigre: payat lang pero WOOOOOOOOOH
[12:17] elTigre: [insert smiley here]
[12:17] MuGen: gaano kayo nagtagal?
[12:18] Meebo Message: Could not connect to network.
[12:20] MuGen: gaano kayo katagal?
[12:20] elTigre: 1 year tapos umalis sya ng pinas di na kinya

El Tigre indeed had a straight past. He just broke up last year after his ex-girlfriend left for Dubai. For weeks, I tried to unravel the mystery as to why he never sought a new girlfriend. The answer came directly from him:

He has a very high standard when picking up a mate.

The moment I opened his ex-girlfriend's multiply account, I was floored over my seat. She was indeed a certified bombshell - slim, long black flowing hair, brown skin that complements my buddy's fair and boyish features. Had they still been together, they could be easily mistaken as ramp models strutting along Megamall's wide-spaced atrium.

El Tigre's revelation was a source of relief. Finally I could see him as someone out of my league. At the same time, I could tease him all I want knowing that I could never-ever get attached romantically with my chat friend. Yet for some reasons, his revelations left a tinge of pain that I still cannot understand. What I do know is that it brought back memories of a time when I was forced to sought a girl for distraction after learning that my guy bestfriend decides to pursue a girl he just met.

It was my then straight life.

The only time I really get serious in having a relationship is when I feel threatened of being left out by a male friend's intention of having a girlfriend. The last time it happened was during Yusuke's time. Rather than being abandoned by my closest companion, I decided to enter someone's life.

Who would have thought that our friendly hang-outs, night-long phone conversations and constant companionship in class would end up in a romantic interlude that would become my first and last in the realm of the heterosexuals. Now that we're very much close after years of not speaking to one another, it was our fondest memories that I choose to remember once again.

[12:20] MuGen: ganun ba
[12:20] MuGen: matagal rin
[12:20] MuGen: [insert smiley here]
[12:20] elTigre: hehe
[12:21] MuGen: ex ko
[12:21] MuGen: [insert multiply address here]

And despite being separated for seven years, it was our happy past that convinced me to introduce her to El Tigre this afternoon.

---

When she returns to the country at the end of the month, I promised to take her out for dinner. You may call it many names but I guess this is the closest I could ever have as my first date this year.

She knows I am not straight.

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.

Sunrise Over Malate

Your sunshiny presence
was a speck of light in that most
deceitful of the night.

- Ode to Mister B and Benchboy from Odders who found themselves in the same dancing ground that night which lead me to write about this entry.

---

Malate is a place where dreams are made and where fairy tales do not end with a happily ever after. It is a place of refuge for those who mend a broken heart or a shattered soul by lathering their throats with beer and partying the night away with house music until the sound numbs weary ears and the dancing drains energy from exhausted feet. Malate is a home for those who wishes to forget. And for those trying to escape the agony of living a double life. It is a place where anyone can be what they want without fear of being rejected or ridiculed by a world who sees their existence as a threatening infestation to mankind.

And for the third straight week, Malate has been a place of sanctuary. The thought of its glitzy, sweaty dancing floors enabled me to hold myself together and go through life by looking forward to the night-out the following week. When my emotions get assaulted by my own artificiality, a trip to Che'lu will remind me of the joys of feeling something real. Ironic, isn't it? The flirting which always happen over there re-assures that no matter how I get crushed over and over, my dignity remains intact.

Someone will get swayed by my false pride.

The popoy with the masseur was over and instead of going to his next client, he decided to spend the night with me. For both of us, the temptations of forgetting was much stronger than the call of reality. Having fun and instead of thinking the troubles that lie ahead sounds more appealing as an end for a turbulent month that was about to pass. However, the bond I placed after we did it was too strong to be broken in one night. For the first time, someone's presence became an inhibition for me to follow my usual activities in that said place.

He said many things about his life there. Like me, he is a hardcore clubber who sometimes rely on drugs given by friends and admirers to get him into the groove. I told him that I don't need drugs to get high with music. Aside from being too expensive, I've learned from years of hitting dance floors to let the music lead my body.

It's like being possessed by hard beats as the sound entrances my smoke-filled head.

One difference that sets the two of us apart is that while he kept friends who were regular club goers, I prefer to party without any company. It has always been me all these years. Besides, impressions tell that it's better to get wild when an acquaintance is not present than to impose modesty or risk getting being talked about by those who were shocked by my occasional excesses in the dance floor.

True to his claims of being well-connected, the masseur, who I will call John for this entry immediately went to this cute twink the moment we set foot inside Che'lu. If you're wondering, he paid for his own entrance. Graciousness is not my middle name. They stood there next to the ledge, groping and hugging one another. I sensed that there was something in them by mere observing their closeness and true to my speculations, he later confessed that the twink was a sex partner he met in the club before.

"Grabe, kung titingnan mo ang liit ng batang yan pero putcha ang laki naman ng burat!" He whispered while guzzling his first bottle of San Mig Light. As if I really cared. There was no doubt that the kid was cute, but I'd rather pick a brute that had an average appeal than to settle down with a lanky who would most likely run away or blabber in a fistfight.

Despite my uneasy feelings toward the twink, I noticed that John was obviously obsessed with him. The kid made strong resistance to his aggressive passes so poor John had to move on seeking a new prey. Meanwhile, I saw two effeminate men eyeing on me. I'm with someone, so I just let them stare while I followed John around acting like his escort.

"Tara tanggal tayo ng damit!" He dared when we found ourselves in the middle of the dance floor again.

"Sigurado ka ha? Masyadong maaga pa dude." I said smiling. He was insistent to show off and thus, I was forced to follow him. We took off our shirts and he mounted the ledge when the DJ changed the music. While my companion danced on the ledge, I waddled across the sea of gay people hoping to get a spot on the other ledge across from where he was dancing.

He was not the only one who can have a piece of the spotlight.

---


The night wore on and John, visibly intoxicated after downing a couple of beers swaggered around like he was the alpha male on the dance floor. The three Red Horses that I gulped in successsion did not even had an effect on me. Sobriety had a price and mine was the total renunciation of the right to flirt around. Instead of hounding for cute guys, I followed John wherever he went. At times, serving as his anchor when the raging sea of revelers threatened to toss him around.

My companion had a lot of friends and admirers who greeted him left and right. Though most of them were effeminate twinks, I could not help but feel out of place when I get introduced to them. Had it been a solo-flight night-out, I wouldn't have to torment myself acknowledging people I'm not interested to meet. If I didn't resolve to stick with John, probably I would be dancing with someone who's the one following me instead.

"Pare labas lang ako sandali." I nodded to grant him permission.

As John made his way towards the exit, a midget lady went in front of me. The sounds blasting from the speakers suspended over our heads was getting more upbeat and girl hinted that she wanted to dance. I accepted her subtle invitation by moving closer. With our groins just few inches away from colliding, I went down on my dance partner who was shaking her hips with machine-like execution. With my hands firmly placed on her legs, it was the most excruciating leg bending I have to do. Not only did my butt hurts, but the pushing around by a crowd rushing to leave the dance floor for a beer break meant that I have to keep my balance steady or else I might crush my partner dancing in front of me. The girl, who never had to worry being pushed around had a wonderful time grinding and twisting her body against mine. There were times, I had to extend my arms and create a cage around her so people would not trample her.

Exhausted from the back-breaking dance, the girl took a break and returned to her table while I was left standing alone on the dance floor. Then I remembered John who went outside earlier. Probably he was talking to a friend or maybe, flirting around with another twink. To show up might turn away his prospective partners. However, I realized that ever since we went to the club, I never saw him openly soliciting the attention of others.

I went out and found him in front of O-Bar. He was talking to a thin guy in a manner that would suggest that they were colleagues in the profession. After the guy left, I went beside him to check if he was alright. He gave a reserved smile and invited me to sit on one of the unoccupied chairs outside the bar. Visibly exhausted, I decided to stay and keep him company.

"Mukhang inaantok ka na ah." His eyes were shut as he yawned beside me.

"Hindi. Okay pa ako."

"Okay lang ba tol na nakabuntot ako sayo. Sabihin mo lang kung pasira ako sa diskarte mo ha?"

"Ayus nga yun eh, hindi mo ako iniiwan."

"Heto ang first time na naging responsible ako sa isang tao dito sa bar" I confessed, smiling.

He returned my confession with a smile and leaned his legs next to mine. With our relationship hitting off the bar. He told me the story of the lean guy he was talking to earlier. The guy was also a masseur who used to be under his care when he stayed in Davao for several months. He managed several boys who called him kuya. It was his job to give them clients that would sustain their operations in that city. What worried him is that his collegue had become thinner after several months of not seeing him.

"Baka naman laging nalilipasan ng gutom?"

He never reacted to my punchline.

It was almost four in the morning. As we sat outside Che'lu, the crowd in front of us began to disperse by walking towards J.Nakpil. I tried to gaze into his sleepy eyes who were fixed into the brightly lit horizon. It was my hope that I could get invited back to his place. Now that I am able to see the bigger picture, maybe the reason why I decided to stick with him despite the many potential affairs that night was my desire to close the deal with a fuck that I can consider something more real.

However, signs tell that he wanted someone - anyone other than me.

We returned inside for a last dance. This time, he was intent to go all the way by mounting the ledge again with his shirt already tucked on his pants. ow that I have the permission to follow him around, I mounted the ledge where he danced and stood just behind him trying to follow his groove. As he impressed everyone below with his ability to translate the music into bodily movements, I watched closely, sometimes rubbing my naked chest against his back so that his sweat would be mine. One audience who was obviously drunk went up to dance with John. His hands groped not only my partner's torso but also his friend's who danced beside us. Annoyed at the thought of being violated, John turned around to face me. The timing was so perfect for after nobody took the bastard seriously, he pulled his pants down exposing his bulging tummy and his black bikini brief to the "ewwws" of everyone. As for John, his vision was blocked by my broad shoulders and we danced face to face until the drunk guy was pulled down by an embarassed friend.

John ordered two more bottles of booze on our return and walked naked around the floor to flirt with the crowd. The guys who caught his attention were mostly skinny effeminates. It was the trannies and the girls who befriended me that night. As John flirted with these young men, my hands cupped his right pocket to protect his cellphone from potential snatchers. They proliferated among the revelers and that night alone, I believe that two went home without a phone in their hand. Meanwhile, John's response was favorable, for as my hand secured itself above his leg, he placed his hand on top of mine.

"I'm checking your cellphone. Don't worry, it's just my hand."

Those moments were the closest thing I could ever claim to be our bond.

Daybreak came to Malate but with my partner still charged up, I had no choice but to stay in Che'lu's sweaty dance floor and wait for him to call it a night. Everyone who was left inside was scrambling to find a partner they can flirt, and possibly bring home for breakfast. One of those who finally caught up with John was a guy I tripped long before I met my him. Had it not for trip's friend whom I made out last week, he was the one I was rooting to get intimate with the last time our eyes met.

Wasted, John approached him and his twink friend who was dancing right next to the ledge. Meanwhile I stood frozen just a few steps away watching their next move. The guy I tripped suddenly kissed John, while John began positioning himself to lick the nipples of the twink guy dancing with them. "A familiar posturing for a morning threesome," I thought. With their attention locked into each other, it felt like they had created their own world,

Where I became one of the outsiders.

Scrambling to hold my defenses together, I fixed my eyes to trip's friend who was standing behind them. He was watching the trio intently, who are now hugging each other as their bodies bounced to the beat of sound. The guy who stood behind me was trying to reach out my hand. I took it back the moment I felt his fingers rubbed against my palm. To be honest, he was cute. I could acknowledge his advances to get back at John and his abandonment but when I saw my real trip's friend being so jealous at the trio who's groping each other's hips.

A sudden surge of humanity filled me.

Rekindling old flames was a good idea but who am I to reach out when I decieved him by giving a false cell number last time. Would I look more pathetic if after following one person the whole night, I would end up making out with another one?

I guess there was no escape other than to accept defeat. Much as I would like to appear triumphant in the game I played with John, my feelings lead me to submission. The floor was not mine this time and for once, the wounds of others will cause my suffering.

Such is the cycle of life.

After a quick trip to the bathroom for a last leak, I went back at the trio to inform the masseur of my intention to leave. The sun was already up outside and in a matter of minutes, my mom would be looking after me.

"Una na ako sayo bro. Ingat sa pag-uwi."

"Huh? Alis ka na? O sige ingat. Text-text na lang." He said briefly before going back to his partners who were now touching each other's crotches.

What a life he had. Not in a million years would I wish it to be mine.

I left Che'lu as the last of the vampires were scrambling for taxis that would take them home. The sky was deep blue and the sweet September wind blew from the grassy hills of Sierra Madre and gave a fresh breath of life to those who have given up in their search for affection during the long chilly Saturday night.

Reality finally got hold of me that morning. With flirtmates around, there is no way I can again be free in Malate. How can I forget and move on when there will always be someone who will remind me of the past?

Maybe, I have to leave the place to seek solace elsewhere. I do not know where, but somehow I will manage to thrive when I plant my roots elsewhere.

The first rays of sunlight awakens the real residents of Malate. Life begins its crawling pace as I dragged myself from Orosa to Taft and seek a cab that would finally take me home.

As I raised my right hand to hail the next cab slowly approaching my side of the road.

It dawned to me that it's time to start all over again.

September begins and I am once again free to chart my new destiny.

Tripper

We were four in the table. I was seated near the windows, while next to me sat master Centurion. Across our chair, just beyond the blue plastic buckets where the now empty bottles of San Mig Light were once placed sat the new couple. They were two male friends who have girlfriends, but decided to take a shot in having an affair. I wasn't surprised at all when Centurion told me the news. They had been constant text partners for the past two weeks. They also went out a couple of times, and they already confessed to our master their mutual like for each other. The only thing missing was formality.

Anyway, my head was swirling and I needed something to take the alcohol out of my system. The New Wave music spun by the DJ wasn't helping at all - it makes me want to throw up - especially when some artist made a falsetto sound. Inside the bathroom, while digestive remains were pouring forth liberally out of my throat, the music suddenly turned upbeat. Finally, we're getting house music. There's salvation for me after all.

I returned to my seat feeling much better. The lady next to our table was already raising her arms and her torso was already making ripple movements to follow the beat. Her slender, wavy motion caught my attention. She just triggered the clubber in me.

Within minutes I was already following her movements. My head was bouncing to the house music, my arms were half-raised and my torso was already making some ripple movements depending on how hard and tribal the beat was. We looked we silly definitely - drunk and dancing on our chairs. But this dancing, eventually made us notice one another even if we are, literally worlds apart.

"Tangina master, kung dance floor lang ito, kawawa tong tsik saken." Centurion was grinning while I bragged about my feats inside the club.

"Alam mo ang secret para maka-score eh dapat nagsasayaw ka na may libog sa katawan." Tactless, I was short of telling him that I try not to masturbate when I know that I'd be partying when night-time arrives.

So there. The upbeat music made me a little sober and a little bit hornier. The sudden adrenalin rush did the wonders, and since the new couples were secretly exchanging gestures of affirmation to each other - which made me a little jealous - I turned my attention to the lady who was now exchanging glances at me. It was fun to trip with the opposite sex, especially when you know that you're really flirting with a female and not a tranny.

Last night however was a different case. I wasn't just satisfied with just trading glances with someone.

I was willing to show my friends that even if my physical needs exclusively cater to males, I can pass out as a straight guy and can trip with a female.

And trip I did.

As the story goes, I stood up to pick an arm chair from an empty table not far from us. I placed just inches away from the dancing lady, who immediately acknowledged my presence by asking for a light. In fairness, she was quite beautiful when you look at her closer. She's a chinita with a skinny body and wore a black top last night.

"Okay ka pa?" She asked me, while leaning her head closer to mine.

"Yup ayos lang ako." I even made a thumbs up remark to reinforce my state of control.

"Uy crush ka nung isang kasama namin." As if I'd find her interesting. You, babe, already caught my attention.

We exchanged pleasantries and smoked together, while the rest of the boys kept looking at me. I'm not really sure if their reaction bordered on embarrassment, so I asked them never to bring up what happened the next time we see each other.

"Walang magpapaalala ng kahihiyan kong ito ha." I told Centurion after drinking my eight bottle of beer.

The flirting eventually ended up in a fluke. Though I learned that her name was Abby, (and I introduced myself as Mark) we didn't exchange numbers. I learned that no matter how I trip with ladies, it simply wouldn't work. So at 2 in the morning, the four of us guzzled our last bottle of beer and called it a night. After saying my farewell to Abby, I took the first cab who stopped beside me leaving Centurion and the couple to figure how to get home. I had this feeling that someone will go home in the morning with a sore butt.

The house music and the flirting with the tsik left me longing for more. Therefore, I decided to head to my favorite watering hall halfway across the city. It doesn't matter if I would come all the way from the highlands of Tandang Sora, so long as I will settle my score elsewhere, where the dance floor is a familiar territory.

So at 3 am, despite having to take a grueling forty-minute jeep ride from Agham Road to Julio Nakpil in Taft,

I found myself back in Malate.

Discreet

You mounted the ledge like a usurper coming from the crowd below. The spot you just occupied was the same corner I was aiming when I went to the ledge an hour ago. Since I was busy trying to make a score with the ladies, I let you take my place. After all, your pheromone-drenched body was a welcome addition to the merry boys who ruled the space we both occupied.

The ladies dancing on the same ledge were slim and gorgeous. They were in front of us. Their hips moved and their bodies twisted, while their boobies bounced to the beat of the sound. I was certain I flirted with a woman and not a tranny this time. You see, I have this habit of mistaking a she-boy for a real chick.

Your presence became a sudden distraction, just when I was an inch close in getting my prized pussy. Everyone was trying to have a piece of you. Even the spotlight turned from the ladies who danced like sluts on my part of the ledge towards your direction, where revelers gathered just to see you bust a move. You know why our eyes were turned to you? Your ruggedness suggested a masculine demeanor, but it was your bulky chest, flat abs and tanned skin that took everyone by storm. In the sea of flamboyancy, a half-naked barako dude like you was the only thing missing before the ship overloaded with gay men turns overboard forcing everyone to sink before getting your attention.

You danced with much so much spunk, while your audience surrounded you with their hands raised up to touch your sweaty torso. I would have done the same, had my pride jacket failed me. You were a sea god out there (where one even made a sign of the cross after feeling your abdominals with his hands) amidst the frenzy of prancing sea-men. Secretly, I desired for your attention; but knowing how inferior my beacon was for you to take notice, I decided to swim on my own, hoping the mermaids on the other side of our sea would still find my presence interesting.

"Naks andami mong fans ah!"

"Hindi naman." Your smile left a trace of inflated ego, while your peripheral glances sized up my attributes that you matched up with yours.

Your audience went elsewhere a few dance tracks later. Perhaps they got tired of worshiping your body, which can never be theirs no matter how they desperately supplicate for your blessing. You were still in your corner dancing, while flexing your biceps for everyone to see. They were firmer and bigger than mine. But with a height that never reached even the tips of my shoulder blades, I appeared looming darkly behind you.

If you were a sea god dancing proudly over a sea of drowning gay men, I was a Titan watching your every move. In my brooding silence, I hoped that my shadowy presence would catch your attention.

And it did, without me doing any work.

You put your hands behind your back to feel if your shirt was still tucked inside your tight jeans, while I, simply put mine near yours pretending not to brush your sweaty fingers. But with every brush, our fingers touched and ran across one another. Soon, the touching gave way to holding. Who would have thought that we could ever become intimate even if it was our mere hands expressing our hidden feelings for one another?

Soon, your patrons returned touching again every part of your lean body. I let them have their way for you have already chosen your mate for the night. While your left hand tried to push away stubborn hands aiming for your zipper. Your right hand was on mine, squeezing my hardness. I tried to reciprocate the favor by squeezing yours but I felt it would simply be inappropriate.

Your objective was to catch other's attention and I don't want to block your way.

I could have turned my gaze elsewhere and leave you basking in your five minutes of fame. The skinny long-haired lady next to us was already responding to my provocations long before you came to the ledge. However, my inner nature told me to stay. I cannot deny that I longed for you just like you secretly longed for me. With no words able to describe our feelings, I understood that despite your outer toughness, you sought someone who could match your ruggedness. Others will have their turns touching your body, but I was the only one capable of feeling your soul. As you leaned on my arms while trying to bend your body, I knew that you sought someone who can make you feel secured right at your most vulnerable moment.

I would have wished for you to turn around and face me. But with all the searchlights focused on you, I was a mere shadow standing behind with my arms ready to catch if you fall. I could have asked you to be mine, but what happens after I consumed you? Would our lives intertwine like when it happens in some gay fairytale? Much as it gets tiring sometimes, truth is, what we had was just a night's dance.

Even our names were unknown to one another.

Maybe someone else deserve you better. Maybe I have become a player who simply wants to gauge how far would my discreet flirting would get me. Maybe you will meet someone who would make you feel more than I am capable of.

With my hands still bound to someone, I know, you will be happier with someone else.

But you know what, I also thought what if you were that someone who could make me feel better? What if you were that someone who would someday give back my freedom? What if behind the mask we both wore last night revealed a person who was simply tired of giving too much?

What if I was letting a chance go, despite how strong our connection was? What if despite how your worshipers waited for you to perform miracles, you were already performing it on me?

Sadly, like all the guys I flirted before you, I would never know the answers...

"Pare ang astig mo."

"Talaga, salamat ha."

"Una na ako sayo. Enjoy mo ang party."

"Una ka na??"

Yup Paalam.

No matter how I wanted to stay longer and no matter how dying I was to keep you company until daybreak comes,

I know where my limit ends.

Had you met me when my heart was still made of wood. Things would have ended differently.

But now that it is already surrounded with barbed wires.

It is goodbye for us.

Even if fate gives us a next time, I know, we will never be the same dance partners we had been at the White Party last night.

---

Touch my body
Throw me on the floor,
Wrestle me around,
Play wit me some more

- Mariah Carey, Touch My Body

And She Awakens Me

Joms: Sabihin mo na kung ano yung huling sinabi mo sa friendster ko.

IceRose: Alam mo na yun...

Joms: Hindi eh. Kahit gist lang.

IceRose: Hindi nga? Peksman.

Joms: Swear.

IceRose: Sige na nga. Married ka na ba?

Joms: Hinde.

IceRose: May girlfriend?

Joms: Wala

IceRose: May boyfriend?

Silence...

Joms: Meron.

Silence for a very long time.

---

It was the first night of my tropa's wake and there she was, attending it with the rest of our college classmates. Her name is IceRose and for those who have been following my blog for two years, our story was written here many times before.

Finally, after keeping my homosexual side a secret, I had no choice but to admit to her everything that I did. She was obviously disappointed. Teary-eyed, she told me that all her close male friends turn out to be like "that." In between her sentences, I understood what she meant. After all, it seems like these three guys she mentioned were actually related to her in a way that is more than just a friend.

I explained to her how the story went. I told her that I was a product of an experiment gone wrong and that it started as a mere act of rebellion against my father. I also explained to her that unlike other homosexuals, my mindset remains masculine and that there is a slim but very obvious possibility that I might be a bisexual-in-denial. Our conversation went on but since she needs to get home early for work the following day and the wake is in Marikina, I volunteered to take her home.

---

The rains began to fall when we arrived in Cubao. Being her long-time male companion, my instinct tells me to secure her no matter what the cost. As the rains pour heavier, I knew that it's just a matter of time before the floods drown the city. Though she lives in La Loma, which is not really prone to flooding, I live in a place that virtually becomes a lake when the rain falls heavily.

As the taxi speeds through slippery streets, we were at the back seated close to each other. She talked about her brother, who also shares the same orientation with me. Apparently, the kid has many issues. From how IceRose describes him, he appears to be in a state of rebellion and acts delinquently in school.

I told her that maybe, what her kid brother needs is support and understanding. He seems to be confused with his sexuality and it is clear that he draws his strength and center from his friends, who are unfortunately a bunch of misfits and happy-go-lucky twerps.

We ended our conversation about his brother with a secret wish that somehow my life would cross his brother's, and my presence would draw him closer into the right path. You see, I told IceRose that despite my preference, the non-straight people I'm hanging out with are all professionals and achievers in their respective fields. I explained to her that we have this unwritten vow that says even if we live an alternative lifestyle, we should at least prove to everyone how we're capable of;

That we can outmatch any straight guy especially in the area of personal achievements.

---

IceRose and I talked about many things, including how she managed to connect the testimonials in my Friendster and my previous statements about my ideal "family" set-up that lead to her suspicions of my sexuality. The rest of them were too trivial to share here in the blog. But one moment in our long and perilous taxi ride under heavy downpour that deeply moved me was when she held my arms close to her and told me;

Kaya nga ba labs na labs kita eh.
Alam ko namang lagi kang nandoon para sa amin.
Ikaw kaya ang tabaching-ching ko.

I could interpret her words in different perspectives. But judging from the way IceRose acted disappointedly when she found out that i'm taken by another man; to the way she asked me if there is a possibility of turning back.

Assumption is not my way, however her sublminal message is very clear to me...

Whenever I remember the happy scene we had last December when she walked me to the Jeepney stop while carrying her son on my back,

Dreams of becoming a father - a family man surges back in my thoughts. It is like a strange awakening from a very deep slumber; suddenly remembering all those days I chased ladies in the corridor; almost forgotten by the years I have gone the opposite way.

If fate did not intervene and I've had my chance to tell her what I really felt six years ago, I may have never become a PLU today.

Thinking it over, there is a very high chance we could have been...

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

A Gentleman's Protocol

The guy must always be on the danger side when walking with a girl.

The guy must make sure his girl date have reached home - to the point of accompanying her if possible, especially when courting this girl.

The guy must be in front of the girl when descending a stairs, and must be behind her when ascending it.

The guy must let the girl hang the phone first before hanging it after having a conversation with a girl. The list goes on, but the bottom line is, the guy must always be the securer and the protector of the girl.

---

These are the things that I've learned from a girl classmate back in second year college. I didn't know the reasons why she thought me these display of good manners and right conduct, but it did earned me the adoration of my girl friends back during my straight days.

Unfortunately, only few guys know these protocols. Most of them are rather ignorant or insensitive in treating a girl the way they should be.

You can call me old fashioned or chauvinist with my ideas, but I think girls still deserve this kind of pampering and respect from guys. I shouldn't be writing about this subject in my PLU-oriented blog, but when a girl classmate asked me for advice this afternoon about dumping her MU, I can't help but comment about the way this guy treated my classmate.

Imagine this, a straight chinito guy, his height is around 6'0 and his body frame is bigger than mine. He is a fraternity member in his college and courts this classmate of mine who acts like a princess - a dainty, finesse and very much innocent lady. She is the typical rich-kid kolehiyala without the bitchiness and pretentiousness that comes with being a conya.

She asked for my advice whether she should dumping with this guy who is courting her or not. The reason is, she gets turned off whenever this guy leaves him after their date or ignores the basic protocols I mentioned above - like opening the door of the car and making sure the girl gets out before leaving her. She also questions why, there were occasions where she gets to pay half of their dinner - when in fact, this guy courts her. Lastly, how could a guy, who hitches a ride with his girl affords to leave her to drive alone going home when he could just accompany her until they both arrive at the girl's place and then leaves her safe and sound?

Both me and our other friend (who was her girl confidant) agrees that the guy is indeed a jerk. I even recommended that the guy should spend some time with me to learn the basics of treating a girl or he might end up not getting a decent one at all.

In the end, I told the girl that if she ever plans on dumping the guy, it would be better to dump him slowly - like keeping a distance farther and farther away from him. I told her that there's no use of telling him bluntly to back-off for not only it would hurt the guy's ego, it would also be unlady-like for her to do so. When the issue was settled, I discussed to the other girl the importance of these manners especially to a guy who is courting a girl on our way home.

You see, it doesn't only show a guy's sensitivity. It is also a good way of displaying your masculinity in a sublime and indirect manner. It shows how much you respect her by making sure that her welfare comes first before yours. After all, even the most boyish among straight girls desire to feel protected and secured by their man too.

That's why, if ever I stayed straight, I could have easily swayed a lady to my will. I have done it before, (though unaware of it) surely I could do it again. The problem with me is that I am a torpe guy who won't even show a slight hints of direct feelings out of fear of being rejected. That's how I lost Ice Rose to a jerk before. My torpe-ness costed me some of the finest ladies attempted to court during my straight days.

On the other hand, such awareness leaves me perpetually focused on looking (or drooling) for guys who are much more masculine than me. Perhaps the reason why I converted from being a straight to a non-straight guy was because I got tired of being the protector and the dominant all the time. Eventually such strength and dedication wore off and what's left is the desire to be the one who is protected and secured by a much stronger guy.

That's why I have this certain preference for guys who are at least as old or much older than me.

And it is also the reason why I have this belief that a top guy is masculine, aggressive and discreet.

I wonder, if the girl who sought my advice this afternoon knew that I'm not straight, would she still listen to every word that I said?

Or would she just think of it as another homo's daydream of a perfect machoman?