Battleground States | Mad Season (Second Part)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It taints everything I stand for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A day later, it remains his final word.

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