Pasas...

It is nearly a revealing fact, almost disturbing. I just learned about this last February 14 when I dropped by in Megamall (around 6:30 - 7 PM, 2nd Flr, Building B):

(...ahh...my conscience is groping my neck,
claws clenched, stabbing right thru my throat:
trying hard to stop me to spill this truth....)

(Drum roll please!)

“I’VE NEVER SEEN SEVERAL GUYS SIMULTANEOUSLY BRUSHING THEIR TEETH (SO CLINICALLY GRAPHIC IT IS AMUSING, TWO THUMBS UP!) INSIDE THE MEN’S ROOM.”

Whoa! He he he. (Thanks sa drum roll.)



(...my conscience finaly let go of me,
I sense his complete retirement
and then sabay sabi nung kupal,
"Inggit ka lang!"
Ngek. "Hindi ah!" ..)


I forgot about this event in my personal blog coz a helluva of things had happened. Since I promised something soda, I rathered post it in United. Have a great weekends.

february love

i stopped blogging (i.e., recording my experiences) roughly a month ago, because of two reasons. one was because of this boy who made me realize how transient things truly are (and who i don't want to talk about any further), and the other one was because i rediscovered a long forgotten passion.

i've been writing poetry since highschool, as i remember. my poems are garbage, of course, but they've always liberated me in one way or another. i found many disposable, (but) valued little details in my life - details that can easily get erased in highly-edited blog posts - recyclable and recycled in my poems.

poems were my personal, handy mementos of an otherwise would-be forgotten past, way before the blog thing arrived. i traded it off for the latter, obviously, for a couple of years.

but now, i'm back, and it feels so damn good. i'm back to believing that there's nothing better than creating absolutely crappy poetry.

and it's funky to add that this rekindling started just a couple of weeks ago, just this february. probably, this is a sour love life transformed: devoid of men, i retorted by resorting to my poems for a cuddle.

now, before the introduction becomes four times longer than the main deal, i present to you, one of my poems:

panandalian
(para kay j.)

tulog ang talinhaga
dito sa madilim na parte
ng paslit na pagnanasa. iisa lamang
ang kahulugan ng nakapatong
na kamay ko sa nahihiyang dulo
ng hita mo, o ng kaunting pisil sa iyong akbay.
subukan man nating gawing metaporikal
ang bawat galaw, pareho nating alam
na paghalik ang paghalik mo sa aking kamay.
na kapag sinabi kong mahal kita,
susuklian mo ng mahal mo din ako,
at wagas tayong magmamahalan habang buhay
ang tagay ng beer.

Outside Looking In

Tell me did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated :::Drops of Jupiter By Trains:::


The night had come stolen, later broken by the softest smile on his face. I was taken out of deliverance that I can no longer continue. The seconds were spent into fragments of inspiration I held sacred before.

It was one of lazy afternoons I always have and probably kept very special in my own silly ways. The 4’oclock sun was unforgiving compared to my slow uncalculated steps I made on the concrete pathway. Yes, I was alone and I didn’t know if I was reminiscing or daydreaming but the only thing I was sure of was that I wasn’t lonely or compelled to be cruel to myself that day.
Then he knocked me in a pleasant surprise almost an answered prayer I never knew I uttered every night. I was always forgetful and the so called love was not on my side ever since, for I never believed in it. So I guess—if I was still privileged to guess that it was not love at first sight anyhow. I was glad of it.

Time was mine and all logic won’t fall apart. This was the course I follow so well and because of this virtue I felt terrified. Thoughts of losing someone and be driven into complications was not worth my ego. I was happy to be me, myself, and I.

He gave me roses but I didn’t--. I sighed and said his eyes were dreamy. He dedicated a poem for me and I didn’t--. I never smile back but I mentioned to him that poems were for dead lovers. He cried when I knew should be breaking down but I wasn’t. I’ve told everyone he was giving me the creeps.

Before, I’ve always known how things should work or which could be better but it turned out my heart and soul wasn’t as comprehending as much as my head does.
With the gentlest hand that ever touched my face he revealed the rest to me and asked him with utmost concern the thing I never said to anyone before: Would it be fair?

Yes he whispered.

…and suddenly love was a crime. It was my best.
Passion after passion made the missing gaps of my life eternally found and burning. Or maybe I wasn’t really aware of what I was really missing—for the first time the restless heart found its place in him. I looked at the palms of my hand after the solace of the night; he traced the lines and said in my ears it was destiny.

Another kiss, another time to be one.

The dawn had arrived and the morning sky crushed me along with the same smile of hims still imprinted in my head. I was torn out of freedom if there’s a need for me to be myself again. It lasted longer than a moment.

Now, I was running away from it like thunderstorms were chasing me. It happened and I was in it what I’ve made others felt before. But this time there were no screams, no slamming doors, and no packed clothes.

It is supposed to be my game—my only and favorite game. Never have I expected someone could bend the rules and run it on me. I don’t know if I ought to learn the things at the end of the story, but they call it regret—to my surprise. Sometimes the only thing I am searching for my entire life is the one thing I am always afraid of.



And tell me, did Venus blow your mind:::Drops of Jupiter by Trains:::





NOTES:

[Edited. It is a work of fiction years ago. I am sort of visionary, I am so scared now I gotta quit writing in first person.]

[It applies to love in particular pero this time and life in general (so much about love that I don't wanna talk about it). Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, I was hanging around in Informatics Megamall after work, I saw the girl who slapped me last year May 24, 2006. It was my birthday that day, also in front of Informatics, in full glory of all mall goers. No, she was not my ex. Just an indirect casualty of my recklessness with words. Seeing her again make me scared. I thought I recovered, but I was traumatized pala. What a Valentine’s Day to me. Pero that’s life eh. Uhmm ok lang...kasi I know most people are afraid of truth, ayaw nila sa itsura ng pangit na katotohanan. Pero ito mas masakit: ala pa kaming sueldo..bukas pa, Friday. Tapos minus pa ko four days.]

Happy Valentine's Day Everyone!

Stormwater Drain (Formerly titled Letting Go as An Art Perfected By Me)

(written Tuesday, January 16, 2006 10:59 AM, Makati City)
(written hours after our last meeting that early morning)
(Edited)

I just thought letting go, the art, I have perfected this morning.

Nothing is perfect. It was the right thing to do and I felt so right but now I am so empty. How could you feel love and it is aching inside? How could you feel thankful and yet not bitter? Saying goodbye was easy, letting go itself is kindness on my part. Friendship is a gift but it is not an immediate substitute to affection, friends for now but not now, later for sure.

Love, I learned can be felt alone, the intimate and passionate one. It is love in its true and raw form. Love exists. However the experience between the two people will be different. When it does, when two people experience the same thing in the same moment, in the same space, then the kiss is perfect…the experience of love is perfect—the sad thing about the best thing in life, nothing last forever, even this perfect experience.

I said goodbye, I promised to be kind to myself by saying goodbye. Hurting is not part of my dream, my resistance was in vain, the battle and the war have been already lost. But there is no conflict except desires melting, dreams fading, and memories refreshing itself in every cells until the so called "time heal wounds" have taken effect. I am recovering not from the heart break but the pieces, fitting them together, until it will be once more ideal.

Right now I have a question, an inquiry, how do you really measure love? By the time? Or by the sacrifices made? Or by the intensity of the feeling? I cannot answer to that. But what is essential is the fact of love and loving, although it is an affection felt by a single person alone and not by two people.

I will keep it as a memory, I don't know if I gonna recall it later, coz it is happening right now, this soon. I know it is unfair and unkind on my part but I believe it is a way of picking up the pieces. Nothing really went wrong but the circumstances as I have said were not on my side. Life is still unfair. But being unfair is not bad, it is not just the proper or should I say the real time. I have made my love so real, to the extreme extent it could kill me, luckily it didn't happened. I don't want to kill myself for love but I want to die for love or loving someone.

Why did I say goodbye although deep inside I am aching, crying for acknowledgement that I am capable of love. I said goodbye because of impressions. The moment I saw him, it was so magical that "lost" is the perfect description. Suddenly life, the world was perfect. It was a first impression. But first impression was hard to maintain in the next hours or in the coming days but love keep me enchanted. And I’ve learned too that the last impression we made was the only thing that marks in the people's brain for so long as if it is the only sensible thing to remember. I want our goodbye cool and not as passionate as the first impression. Why? Because after all the love had gone, all will be left are memories to inspire e to love again somebody as good as this…

To forget the pain, although it was part of the picture I won't deny.

Finally I am stepping clear out of it, yes I was hoping he will come back, but time or somebody and myself, sooner or later will diminished this flame away. I know love is not the only virtue that keeps the world revolving, why do you think we are apart because I believe in honesty, I uphold them against the love I been waiting for. Love has a pretty face, a flaming kiss, and insane desire. Truth and honesty, meanwhile, are monsters. Love didn’t make me happy or right. Honesty and truth didn’t too. Maybe for now, I don't need the result coz i don't know how to clean my hands. But a choice had been made.

Letting go is not perfect. But something got to give. It is not really about letting go but learning the hard way.


[It seems improper to post consecutively considering this is not my blog. My apology, I can't help it. I'm so sorry for this is an recycled entry. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Tomorrow I'll be having my version of stand alone complex: i'll wake up, i'll go to work, i'll go home, i'll sleep...senti mode ang kupal. Next time probably not tomorrow or the next day, i'll try to publish something tutyy fruity and light.]

Tyler's "Cat"

At first I really thought it was his cat. It was enough to replace the word cute.

He said he just grabbed it from the net. How something so fluffy and adorable can only exist in realm intangible to us. I sent a message to Tyler (http://boi-interrupted.blogspot.com/); seek his permission to let me have a grab of that fluffy cat image.

The cat looked like a big Chinese cook ready to serve you special siopao, well to me cats are all chinese, not chinito. I don’t know, siguro chinese ang ancestors nila, then something went wrong with evolution. Aba! Another addition to the missing links. About the siopao, I don’t really care whether it is asado, bola-bola, or combo. I even kidded Tyler, that I’ll stop eating siopao. Most of all, I like the cat’s pink nose and earthen yellow feathers on top of its head, surrounding its ears and half of its eyes. I wonder if it has button pair of gem eyes, and what jewel kaya?

The fluffy cat was smiling exaggeratedly, obviously with the help of the greatest and the worst beauty treatment of all time. This treatment is only available to those who exist in a world where life is in bits and bytes.

Still I sent it to my friend(s). Tyler mentioned it brings “good karma” to people and I was the 15th person to ask for the picture. I guessed it did bring “karma”, because when I first saw it I remembered somebody who loves pet animals so much.

Somebody I trespassed over his solitude, who told me this, “he helped me forget my sad story only to start a new one.” He lives in a city which chilly winds, dramatic landscape, pine trees, and sunrise will mean nothing to me but him—a good friend I only saw twice.

Karma or retribution. Another crime against humanity. How something so fluffy and adorable that only exists in realm intangible makes me sober. I believed Tyler words, that it was a good karma, yet a reminder for me to be patient and not to be so reckless. Right now, I’m just sober.




NOTES:

1[Tyler( http://boi-interrupted.blogspot.com/) thanks for posting the picture of that cat in your blog. I really do think it so fluffy and cute. I really do think it is a lucky charm it is just that my January was a surprisingly crazy month, a long and fast month, yet I gained two special buddies that I don’t wanna see to bother again. All my fault.]

2[I have nothing against the Chinese, and I have no involvement with or responsible about evolution, hindi ko personally kilala si Charles Darwin.]

3[Charles kung nababasa mo ito, please lang dude ‘wag ka nang bumangon to explain your side. Mag-post ka na lang dito sa United] :)

How Do You Keep A Nightmare At Bay (Frozen Aize Remix)

"Punta ka dito sa place ko, fuck ka namin ng kasama ko kahit buong araw pa," was his catchphrase that left me defenseless. Out of extreme restlessness and boredom, I went to his place later that day and got the challenge I've been dying to have for so many years after I tried hooking up with guys. His talent is extremely unimaginable - it still sends shivers throughout my spine whenever I remember how we did it in the bathroom, in the shower. The second player, did not participate out of lack of interest perhaps... but many many years after it happened, I still wonder how kinky it could have been if I fought two top guys that afternoon in bed.

I remember him, tall and slim. I could still close my eyes and imagine how fiery and intense his small eyes was, and how he caressed my legs that triggered my inner demons to respond to his advances. He was aggressive for his young age; in the way he soaped my warm body, in the way he bit my lips when we torridly kissed one another, in the way he sucked my man-nipples and licked my armpits, his every move shows how advanced his techniques were in the art of pleasure.

He even rimmed my ass which made me groan so loud, I thought the sounds and cusses I made would tempt his housemate to join us. Finally, using his impressively massive manhood, the extreme pain and pleasure I got from his forceful thrusts made me realize how fulfilling the bottom role is. I matched his dominance with my submission and in the end, our masculinity overpowered both of us. It was a Yin-Yang moment that I still fantasize until now.

---

He promised me that there would be a second confrontation. Apparently, he was satisfied with the perfomance I gave him that he looked forward to have more. But in a lifestyle where sex is dispensable, one's performance is as good as his last - unless bonding ties could be established while copulating. Weeks, months and years have passed but there was no word from him. There were times he would make his presence felt and still, the horny episodes I had with him sends shivers throughout my nerves. My Darkstar side longs for him but I tend to overpower this desire with all the restraint I could give, in order to avoid a pre-emptive strike with the guy.

For he is a kind of war that I am afraid I could not resist fighting.

And so one lonely night, I decided to erase his number once and for all. I was already on the verge of settling down then and declare my self-imposed domestication to my partner. But despite the stillness, there are parts of me that longs for him.

"Just another round to please my inner monstrosity. This time I will show you how ferocious I really am." Says in my thoughts. But opportunity is against me, I am aware of that. This time, there will be an overwhelming sense of guilt that may snap anytime once I fall into his temptation again.

In time, sugarcoated dreams begins to enshroud his memory. The only remaining traces of him briefly re-emerges whenever I am in a state of desperate need to address my heat. However, life has its own way of getting back at you just when you have almost flushed all thoughts of seeing him again someday.

This evening, I discovered his nasty presence in G4M, for he sent me this cryptic message that awakened the dark carnal memories again.

"my name is aize you can reach me at 0915... i would be more than happy to cum with you in most of the time "

Please, after so many years of deep sleep, may you never bring the lusty nightmares back.