contemplative fool's reflections

moving on...

2011-01-03T10:29:00.003+08:00

Moving on to wordpress - click:

http://randomisity.wordpress.com

just visiting...

2010-10-16T08:48:00.002+08:00

Wow!
It's been more than a year since my last post...
A lot has happened, even nothing has happened...
Hope to write again... :)

just ranting...

2009-08-12T19:15:00.003+08:00

There have been tremendous persistent clamor for an update in this blog left in the dust for so long.

Hahaha… what a wishful thinking!!!

Thanks to occasional visitor probably brought here by mere curiosity but I seriously doubt if anyone has actually read anything here in full, just the same I think it’s about time I try to resuscitate this.

I’m not really a writer who can rant and rave on anything. I started this because of an epiphany that has long been gone. Other inspirations have also come and gone. I still don’t have anyone to muse about but I think I still have so many other things to rant about, so hopefully I can fill pages with all these things boiling inside. This has been one of my emotional drains after all.

The dictionary defines superstition as a belief or notion, not based on reason or knowledge, in or of the ominous significance of a particular thing, circumstance, occurrence, proceeding, or the like. As much as I would like to think and even to a certain extent deny this but a part of me is really that, superstitious in a way.

I have been troubling and agonizing over a decision these past few weeks more so in the last couple of days, and lo and behold I got this text message early this morning, The message is my horoscope for the day talking about me, that I “should take the leap of faith…” that I shouldn’t be afraid of change, for it will be for the better. Creepy, for this is exactly the fear that has been piercing and twisting my head over this decision.

Yes, indeed, this will be a leap of faith. I would like to believe I have the faith, I just hope to find the courage and strength to make the leap.

My version of Roast Chicken in Herbs

2009-04-11T12:08:00.002+08:00

Kabayan,

Here as promised; huli man daw ang dating, masarap pa rin hehe :)

Enjoy!

From my last simpleng handa

(Roast chicken at 10'0clock)

Preparation:

Wash chicken (either whole or 6-8 pieces of quarter cut) thoroughly under running water, drain water and pat dry with paper towel.

Pick leaves of 3-4 twigs of fresh rosemary and equal amount of tarragon leaves. Grind to bits using food processor or finely chop. Mix this with about a teaspoon of black peppercorn.

Put the chicken in a shallow baking pan.

Generously rub salt rock unto chicken, including the inside (if using whole chicken).

Next, rub unto chicken the herb mixture (rosemary, tarragon, black peppercorn)

Squeeze 2 lemons (either green or yellow, sometimes a combination the two) and rub these unto chicken.

Next, rub the whole chicken with generous amount of olive oil, and sprinkle about a teaspoon inside the chicken crevice.

Place half of the rind of squeezed lemon inside the chicken's crevice; together with 3-4 cloves of peeled garlic.

Leave it to marinade overnight in the refrigerator or at least 4-6 hours, leave the chicken with breast facing down.

Put another 4-5 cloves of crushed garlic in the pan together with the remaining half of the lemon rinds.

An hour before cooking flip over the chicken, with the breast now facing up or if using quarter cut; make sure the skin part of the chicken is facing up.

Cooking:

For the vegetable sidings:

Thinly cut into strips 2 pieces of medium-size carrots.

Wash about half a kilo of marble potato

In a pot of water with a pinch of salt boil potato for about 8 minutes, and then add the cut strips of carrot and boil for another 4 minutes. Remove from heat, drain the water and put under running water to cool it down. Set aside.

Pre-heat the oven and set at 195 degree centigrade or between knobs 4-5 setting.

Cook the chicken for 45 minutes; at the end of 45 minutes remove the chicken from the pan and lay down the carrots and marble potato in the pan, and then put back the chicken on top of this bed of vegetable. Baste the chicken with some of the juice from the pan before putting it back in the oven. Cook for another 30-45 minutes.

The chicken is cooked if clear juice is coming out when you pierce the meat with a knife.

Kainan na! :)

Gubat sa paso...

2009-03-22T19:44:00.005+08:00

ang aking pinagkaka-abalahan, gumawa ng gubat sa paso hehehe... :)

meet rosemary, minty green, oregani, sweet (basil), lemony and calamansi wahihihi :)

my morning coffee corner... :)

paso population, nearing 70!
somebody stop me please! lol :)

Galunggong atbp...

2009-02-07T10:06:00.002+08:00

My version of garlic fried galunggong fillet!

I don't follow exact measurements but usually prepare and cook food as I see it fit.

So the recipe is as simple as I usually prepare it...

Wash galunggong thoroughly under running water until water return is clear.

In a clean covered pot (earthenware-palayok is preferred) spread kamyas (pierce each kamyas with fork first) at the bottom of the pot (calamansi is an alternative- cut in half, remove the seed and spread in the pot with the cut-half facing up). Add 2-3 cloves of garlic in between.

Lay the fish on top of that bed of kamyas (or calamasnsi); sprinkle small amount of sea salt and black pepper. Top it with another 3 cloves of (this time crushed) garlic and 3-4 more pieces of kamyas or calamansi.

Add water, about 1 to 1&1/2 cup or 1/3 full of the total volume in the pot.

Put in high fire and once it comes to a boil put into low fire and slowly simmer until the water is almost completely evaporated. This would take about 30-45 minutes.

Once cooked, let it cool for a minute or two before removing the fish from the pot carefully by hand one by one.

While still hot, remove the head off then slice the fish in the middle to split it open and remove the bone, whole. Carefully pick out remaining bone, usually located at the head and tail parts. Lay it down in a clean plate with the cut half facing up; do this for the rest of the fish. Once done, carefully squeeze (but do not mash) the remaining juice from kamyas and garlic and mix this with the remaining sauce that has settled/remained in the pot. Spread this to the cut half of the fish. The fish can be eaten as is, or this can be fried to crispiness. The cut head of the fish can be deep fried to crispiness in any vegetable oil. Crunchy -Yum!!

For the garlic fried fillet!

Peel and finely minced several cloves of garlic.

In a non-stick pan, put olive oil just enough to coat and cover the pan; put in high fire for about a minute until the oil is hot then, reduce fire into very low setting . Sprinkle the minced garlic in the pan until all surface of the pan is covered; let the garlic fry for 10-15 seconds before putting the fish. Place the fish on top of the bed of minced garlic with the cut half facing up and sprinkle some more garlic on top of the cut half of the fish; fry for 1-2 minutes on each side or until all the garlic has turned brown. Remove the fish from the pan together with the fried garlic. Put in fresh bed of minced garlic for each batch of fish to be fried. Get the remaining used olive oil and spread it in the fried fish before serving.

Voila, a delicious gourmet galunggong!!!

Atbp...

That was my recipe of galunggong I have recently shared over YM chat with a childhood friend. During the course, he blurted out that he has come to know and read this blog. And so, another soul has made the discovery.

Was I surprised? I have seen it coming actually. I was actually expecting it to be precise, from the time he stumbled upon on my YM address which is linked to my other world. I was sure glad he told me, that only meant he was ready and open to receive the revelation; and I was happy with his reassurance that nothing changed with the revelation. I have a hunch he's not the only one among my friends who has stumbled upon this blog, maybe they're not ready yet. Just the same I'm just here waiting to be discovered...

Thank you kabayan!

Enjoy the crispy garlic galunggong!!!

Bebe...

2009-02-05T21:37:00.002+08:00

A change in the name…

A change in image…

A change, out of the closet into out in the open…

When the late Rustom (with due respect to the man) came out on national TV with his confessions (more of confirmation than confession) one of the things he shared as his realization was that, not all gay men are parlorista that people have stereotyped. He was sure to emphasize that a man need not dressed or be dolled up like a woman to be gay. I was sure to be glad that he said that, I thought here is a man coming out to shatter the stereotype. Alas, Rustom is dead and Bebe just reinforced the stereotype. 

I was supposed to make a more lengthy discourse on closet, coming out, label, plu and what have you about being gay, but then it’s been too long since I first drafted this so let this be as it is for now.

Meri Kismas na..

2008-12-07T12:42:00.003+08:00

Huli man daw at magaling, may decor pa rin hahaha... meri krismas house!!! :)

Rough Cut

2008-11-01T19:01:00.003+08:00

Happy Halloween!!! LOL!!!

Morbid Thoughts

2008-10-20T09:50:00.002+08:00

Morbid thoughts keep running on my mind; feels like the end is near, at least for me.

Part of mid-life crisis? mid-life blues perhaps, but a crisis? hmmmm.... ???
I don't know, I find it a bit funny in a way, but I kinda look forward actually.
No one can ever be ready for this but I guess, yeah I'm ready in a way.

This morning I got a text message from my brother informing me of an aunt's passing, she's almost 90, I think. Shortly, I received a call from my Tatay telling me the same. He then handed the phone to Nanay who repeatedly asked in a worried tone if I'm okay. She started babbling that she's been having recurring dreams of me. She was about to describe in details about her dreams but I cut her short by changing topic and just assured her I'm okay...

morbid ???
wala lang....

I recently moved into this new office that people claim has bad vibes, bad luck for all the previous occupants. The room used to be the office of all the previous company's CEOs; in the 6 year history of the company already numbering nine (9) I think. The last occupant was the most tragic, he only lasted for about 6 months, having been diagnosed with a late stage cancer on his 3rd month in office. He died soon after. In almost a month of occupying this office, I have gotten sick twice already, just the usual cough and cold type of illness, nothing serious but more than the usual that I get in a year's time, which is usually once a year or none at all. Creepy thought, but will I be another statistics to be added as another previous office occupant??? Time will tell.

mobid ???
wala lang...

All Saint's day and All Soul's day are just a week's away!
Happy Halloween!!!

Musing VII: Making a Difference

2008-10-18T09:47:00.008+08:00

I know I'm different since I was a child; part of being different is my conscious effort to make a difference, both in what I do and in someone else's life if I could help it that way. As a child in grade school I readily identified with a friend who is crippled with polio and another crippled with burn accident. I had this connection, they being different as I am. I befriended them helped them in my own way, carrying them at my back literally and figuratively in the hope that I made a difference in their lives. I hope I did.

My stint in the seminary as a young lad in search of identity has been one of the most memorable and fulfilling for the sense I felt that I was not so much different at all. The kinship and brotherhood with the rest of the community has given me immense feeling of being one with the others more than the reality of my being different. As part of that community then and now, I know and I would like to believe I have made a difference.

As a young adult with awareness of the political, family and personal issues I have made it a point to act not with impunity but with care to make a difference. In my own way I took part in the change that was EDSA I and II. In my own way I have been a responsive and responsible classmate, leader and friend in and out of school. In my own way I have been a dutiful son, brother and uncle. Have I made a difference in that respect? I know and I believe I did.

One compelling reason why I chose medicine as my vocation was the fact that it provides me the means and responsibility to make a difference. In my practice as a doctor I always strive to bring into focus my end to make a difference more than the material gain that the profession brings. I'm no hypocrite, but the perks of being a doctor can be so tempting and rewarding that at times I lose focus; I just hope I still made a difference in those instances.

I'm already patting my own back too much; I just wish someone would tell me that indeed I made a difference. I am but just human, needing affirmation that indeed I am good and have made a difference.

Turning leaf...

2008-05-13T02:54:00.007+08:00

I turned 40 that is it...

A momentous day, totally not unexpected obviously inevitable but nevertheless something that still brought mix and harried thoughts and emotions.

Bizarre as it may seem as others would have looked at it; I choose to spend my day in solitude, my annual personal retreat and recollection; time to reflect on the time passed, where I stand and where I may possibly be heading. It's not really that peculiar for it has been my tradition to spend my birthday this way even when I was in grade school. Whereas before, seclusion meant getting lost in Quiapo, Luneta, Sampaloc Lake, malls, beach or whatever parks, sometimes unknown and unfamiliar places that my wandering feet happen to chance upon. Uncanny as it may be, but I look forward being alone this time of the year, for my senses become more acute, more expansive that I see and appreciate things differently. This time, my 40th got to be more memorable and the solitude more pronounced for I am in a foreign land, Stockholm, Sweden.

I stepped out of the hotel with no particular destination in mind. The sky is clear and the clime just fine. It's a good day to wander on foot; and tread on I did as I explore the city; charming with the union of the old world and the comfort and convenience of the modern chutzpah. I simply love the charm it brings, but not the expense of living in it; it is certainly the most expensive city even by European standard. My wandering feet brought me to these beautiful parks where I got to spend some time people watching, soaking in its beauty, simply sitting in rumination, enjoying that for a moment I must have been one of the locals basking in the soothing calm that the park brings.

Humlergarden, Stockholm May 13, 2008

Karlaplan, Stockholm May 13, 2008

Introspection has made me aware of my mortality. Forty (40) is a milestone for anyone; others would have been simply lucky to even have reached it, Jose Rizal, despite and in spite of his greatness was even a couple of years short of reaching it; others, like my mother who just turned 80 would probably be looking back at it now as their turning point, their halfway to where they probably are now.

As I stand proudly at 40, I have so much to thank for; I look back with so much pride for the path I have walked on. I have indeed come a long way in my journey.

More than 30 years ago, I was in a small, bucolic town at the foot of Mt. Banahaw enjoying the simple pleasure of being one of the martial law kids: playing patintero, piko, siyato, luksong baka, taguan, and other sorts of games our imaginary mind can only dream up and with toys our bare hands can only hammer, shape and built. And I have so much to thank for those early years: I thank our lack of television for my sense of wonder in written words and the boundless expanse it brings. I thank my worn out slippers I used to go to school for I got to appreciate the comfort of the shoes, more than the beauty of the style it brings. I thank that we were wanting in luxury for I got to experience at a very young age the thrill of caring for chicken and pigs not as pet but as livestock that feed us. I thank our lack of household help for the discipline it instilled in me and my full appreciation of the joy of doing simple household chores including whipping out simple but delectable dishes. I have so much, much more to thank for, but most of all I thank those times for the chance of living in that age when simple life is indeed simple.

More than 20 years ago, I was ironically free in the confine of the seminary. Free to explore the limits of reason, sexuality and ties of friendship. I simply thank those unforgettable 4 years for the kinship I have forged with friends and for the great significance of the person that I have become. I thank the years that follow for the time it has allowed me to bond with my siblings, though very short for they got set on with their own married lives one after the other. I thank those years for allowing me the experience of caring for a child, albeit a surrogate father to my nieces and nephews. Though I’m not a father and may not even be a father in this lifetime I thank my nephew and nieces for they have allowed me to experience the sense of fulfilment and unfathomable wonder of cradling a child; feeding and lulling them to sleep; sharing in the glee of their first step, first word, and other firsts of a child of wonders. I may not be a hero to them, but still my heart bursts with pride and joy every time they reminisce of even the simplest things that I got to do with them when they were kids.

More than 10 years ago I was struggling to be a doctor. It was with great pride that I was able to somehow pay back my parents with the joy and pride of walking me up the stage on graduation day having finished with the honor of being among the top 10 of the class. I thank those struggling years of having been trained by the best in the field of medicine in the Philippines. Thankful for the friends I have gained, for the mentors that inspire, and for the wealth of experience I have achieved, that in a way paved the way for opportunities way beyond I have actually studied and trained for.

The last decade has been a whirlwind of experience: spiral tests of wisdom and my fortitude as son and brother; as friend and lover; as doctor and administrator; or simply as a man enduring of all the frailties and triumphs.

I am now 40: I live on my own, in a place of my own but not in a time that I own. I stand proud and happy because of those years and decades of experience of pain and conquest. I am thankful simply for the life I have lived; still standing ready to embrace the opportunities and challenges that life would bring.

Gym

2008-02-05T20:40:00.001+08:00

In the old days, cinema theatres are the only, if not just the usual cruising place for gay men. A convenient place for anonymous opportunity of quick orgasmic release; heightened by the thrill of the risqué itself. I've heard of stories of diverse places becoming hunting grounds throughout the years: public parks, vacant and busy parking lots; every imaginable corners of the malls of any malls including the fitting rooms of department stores; and of course the gym, be it in the floor, locker rooms and the steam or sauna rooms.

Gym stories abound and my keen sense for reading body language certainly made me more acutely aware of goings on for more than a year now that I have been regularly going to FF. With this in mind, I have resolved early on that gym shall be a legitimate and wholesome exercise for me literally and figuratively. I exercise because I want to be fit to enable me to eat what I want and not because I crave to be fit and buffed.

Despite my nonchalant behaviour in the gym, I still have been cruised a lot of times, and a lot of times I have passed the chance except for one time several months back, when my groin gets the horny part of me; wham, cum, thank you man. I'm also human after all. But for the most part I have learned to control my groin; the risqué does not seem to be of worth anymore; only a fool would ever risk being caught taking shit in his own backyard so to speak.

But the past couple of days have been more than the usual. I don't know if I have the word "horny" written all over me that I have been cruised almost every day that I was in the gym. Five days in a row and who wouldn't succumb, especially if a buffed and scantily clad young man goes down on his knees; I am no saint. The encounter did not reach the orgasmic proportion, thanks to the intruder and door that cannot be locked, but somehow the narcissistic in me brought forth a consoling thought that perhaps, I'm still desirable after all, despite my age and that pestering mound of a belly. LOL!!!

Musing VI: Single

2008-02-04T20:21:00.001+08:00

I am single and that is a fact that I would probably have to live with for the rest of my life. A very cynical view one might say but a very realistic possibility nonetheless, especially for a gay man.

But being single does not mean I am lonely or that I am alone. Being single speaks only of the societal definition of my status and not my state of being. Notwithstanding the reality of what I have; I choose to be happy and that is more important than weeping for the reality of what I don't have.

Is it really a truth or is it just my contemptible dispute to justify and bring sense to my single hood? Arguably I have deemed my being gay, is not a choice, but an innate truth. It is my very being and as such I have no choice but to accept it.

In the same way, it can be argued that being gay and single is not a choice but a fact of reality; for being gay has the fine distinction of apparent freedom to choose and be not constrained by any form of bond; affirming gay as synonymous with polygamy.

I say it's just a convenient choice of pretext for polygamy, to which I don't necessarily subscribe. An excuse for apparent sexual behaviour of no distinction except for the pleasure it brings. I still believe and choose the transparency of a committed relationship for it leaves no room for ambiguities in terms of love; only a romantic fool that I am would like to understand.

That is another one of my views that makes me a pariah, an ironic twist of being a recluse amongst the recluse. Oh well, that is me just being true to the word non-conformist.

Musing V: Forgiveness

2008-01-26T09:07:00.001+08:00

My reflection for the day is to focus on one person and offer my act of forgiveness.

This is going to be more difficult and painful than I have imagined; this is too personal, but somehow the net also provide certain veil anonymity and so I'm posting it just the same.

Forgiveness is one word that would be very difficult to define and understand. I know that this simply is not just a word that I have to say in order to cleanse the iniquities; for the scar will be there, an infinite reminder of the wound inflicted. Will the word be enough to take away the pain, resentment and anger for the offense made? Somehow the voice of that word has the power to soothe but I really do not know; what I know is that my mind will always have that imprint of scar despite knowing in my heart that I have forgiven. What I have come to realize is that, forgiveness is a process; saying the words "I forgive..." is a sacred act, that is why there is the sacrament of confession and absolution in the Christian world. This is my act of forgiveness.

There is one person I offer this act of forgiveness, not so much for her but for me to exorcise the demons that clouds the core of my being.

I cannot fully understand why for so many years and for as long as I can remember; I have been so distant with my parents, my mother in particular. I have condemned myself with guilt for this for as long as I can remember. I have tried to search for the answer and my introspection always lead me back to the time I was in 3rd grade school.

I spent my primary education in public school in a small, bucolic town. Each batch of class is composed of 3-4 sections per level; divided into section 1: the honor class; and sections 2-3 and 4; the other class. I am no genius but not dim-witted either, as attested by some awards I have gotten when I was in the first 2 grades. But this was put into question when I reached the third grade; when I was put in the honor class, upon the recommendation of my grade 2 teacher, who happened to be my mother. The torments, anguish and shame started when my grade 3 teacher repeatedly put in no uncertain terms, that the only reason I was with the class was because of my mother; that I do not deserve to be in the honor class; that I was a dim-wit worthy of the last section and not her class. I don't think the humiliation it has brought me can be measured in any terms and sphere. My young spirit just took it all in; I never told anyone of the pain I was suffering; it felt the whole world crashed on me. I have completely lost my confidence; for each failure and mistakes I made was magnified in my thoughts that perhaps, I must really be a dim-wit. I became angry with my mother for putting me in that class; but my anger cannot overcome my fear of her and my fear of what she might do if she finds out; she's one feisty lady who'll never flinched on a fight for she is a mother first and foremost. It was a long agonizing year for me but it must have been a miracle for me to have survived that class; unfortunately not the scar it has created which, will be forever etched in my heart and mind.

It has been a struggle for me since and all these years to regain my confidence. In a way it has helped me in my struggle to be better, to achieve more, and to prove her wrong. In so many ways and in so many times I have already proven her wrong with each triumph I achieved. But my tribulation remains for I cannot seem to erase the distant wall I have with my mother and that is my greatest frustration more than anything else.

How do I tell my mother, she who has love and protected me, overprotected me at times only a mother would do and know how; she who is now on her twilight years; she who has suffered as well in her own struggle for life and family; how do I tell her that I forgive her for the wrong of long ago that is not of her choosing. It could crush her heart, for I know she meant only the good things for me when she did what she did. It might be cruel for me to say all these now, for time has already proven that she was right after all in putting me in that class. I'm still afraid to tell her and I don't think I would ever have the courage to tell her. And so this is my process, this is my act for her. I have forgiven as much as I ask for her forgiveness for the times that I have not been a good son.

In a way I also offer this forgiveness to the very person instrumental in the distant wall I have ut up with my parents; she who has put in doubt the very core of my being; she who has caused me agony of innumerable pain for the loss of confidence in myself. May she now rest in peace for I have found, albeit painfully, the consolation that my struggle to prove her wrong has in a way, steeled me to strive and achieved much, much more than what she might have taken me for. The experience of it all has, in a way exalted my being and the values that I hold. It has reinforced my pride and my integrity that can never be compromised.

I am human; a flawed and frail human being. I humble myself for forgiveness for the frailties only a human heart can endure.

The Pathology of Stupid Me

2008-01-24T19:46:00.001+08:00

Another tale dredged from the bin. I wrote this way back when I was livid with rage. I reworked and tone it down, but the rage is still there for the sake of the story. It's now just a story to be told, nothing more.

It was just a day after Christmas and work in the hospital was slow as usual during this time of year. I spent most the day in the office cleaning my year's clutters. A message popped in my G4M inbox; a message of invitation coming from someone who is alone and wanting company that night for a chat over what is supposedly leftover Christmas feasts and drinks. I agreed, despite the anonymity. Instinct told me he could be a good guy based on the exchange of messages we had; the way he phrased those messages and the way he answered my queries. Phone number was exchanged and we had a brief talk; he gave me direction to his place and we finally set the time. I agreed not expecting on anything except to have someone to talk to and satisfy as well my curiosity on who could be this guy who would invite a complete stranger to his home.

I rang his doorbell on the appointed time, way ahead of the supposedly dinner time. The door opened to a portly, Chinese-looking, bald guy; not exactly my type of guy. I could sense that I'm not his type either. I did not have any expectation and his demeanor on how he received me in his home so far did not alarm me of anything that would make me think otherwise. We had an engaging talk that extended to dinner, which turned out to be heated canned foods, as opposed to what he mentioned as Christmas feast leftovers and non-alcoholic wine for drinks; as it turned out he does not take alcoholic drinks. He doesn't smoke either but he let me smoke in his veranda; though weeks later he would make a big deal about smoking and how he really hated it and so on that from then on I really made sure not to smoke when we were together.

As the night wore on, he asked me at some point what I think of him so far. I told him, he seemed to be a nice guy, generous to have invited me in his home for dinner but I also told him I found him "mayabang" for the incessant talk about himself, bragging about how "made" he is that he can afford to retire and not work anymore; although, he won't divulge what he used to do for a living. He showed me his collection of paintings which included paintings of known Filipino masters the size of which could run to hundreds of thousands pesos and so I believed him; yes maybe he's "made" as he claimed. He also talked about how tired he is of guys taking advantage of him; he paying for this and that. I can only mutter to myself, I'm not one of those guys; I'll never be one of those guys; I have my own money, it may not be much, but I don't think I have taken advantage of anyone and would never take advantage of anyone. After telling him of my impression, I asked him the same and his comments were the usual comments I get, that I'm quiet, reserved etc. I cannot recall any more details of what he mentioned coz as he repeatedly mention that he invited me for chat dinner, drinks and nothing more; something more happened that night.

We continued seeing each other after that night. I have come to know the stories about his past (no. 1) and present (no. 2); the present who apparently caused the break-up of his past, with whom he is supposedly still in constant contact and still not completely over with. Apparently he's having problem with the present and in fact their situation is in sort of limbo-land. Those details did not surfaced during our first meeting, the only thing he mentioned was that he was in between relationship; this certainly is big time news to me. I jokingly asked "...that makes me no. 3 man?"

He casually replied "no, you're not even no. 3; in fact you're not even in the list yet."

Ouch! What a big slap on my face, I assumed wrongly that there could be something more between us. We started on the no expectation basis and so it was not really that hard for me to continue the communication more for friendship as we get along that line just fine; no other sexual encounter happened between us after that first night; and certainly one thing is clear on my mind; getting involve with someone who is still with someone is not my cup of tea.

A couple of weeks after that first meeting he told me that he finally called it quits with no. 2, apparently over money matters. Is this a sign for a possible chance? And so I asked him casually, "does it mean I'm moving up the list?"

He replied, nonchalantly "I'll think about it, if you can fill the slot. Besides, how can we be together when you have not even courted me?" Ouch again!

I really don't know what has gotten into me but I persisted and made an effort to make good impression. I have included him in my sphere; invited him to dinner dates with my friends. I was just disappointed when he left early; I have invited him to the pre-valentine's dinner party of the hospital, first time I have invited and allowed someone a glimpse of my other world; we had a post-valentine dinner as well, as he did not want to go out on valentine's day apparently because of the onslaught of people also having dinner date, but as it turned out he had valentine's dinner with no. 2. He refused another dinner date with my friends, as he claimed he does not really like the company; no big deal for me, for I know I can never force anyone to be friend with my friends.

Another slap on my face came when he told me about a week or so later that Valentine's week that he reconciled with no. 2. I did not made any comments, but he must have sensed my disappointment for he reminded me that he had told me not to fall for him; that in the first place we have agreed that we're just going to be friends; that from the very start he made it clear that he doesn't want to get involve with me. I really don't know what has become of me to be so blinded to have succumbed to a false hope. And so, from that time on I really tried to bring myself to be just friends with him and have erased any more notions that there could be something more.

We still continued our friendship. Somehow I became comfortable with him as a friend. That is one thing I like about him, we argue but still I feel comfortable with him; we converse simply but sensibly. He does not have a regular circle of friends, as he claimed most of them have migrated someplace else, and that I'm now one of the few friends that he can regularly hang out with. Our meet up became infrequent when I began my study review for specialty board examination. I promised him that should I pass the specialty board, I will bring him with me in my planned trip to Bali. I passed the Board and I did bring him to Bali as I promised.

It was already night time when we arrived in Bali. We went out for a walk in the beach as soon as we have unpacked our luggage. As we were walking back to the hotel I playfully jumped on his back and gave him a bear hug. I really don't know if he was serious or was just joking but nevertheless, I got offended when he told me not to come too close, that I'm already making a pass on him, that we have agreed to be just friends and that the only reason his no. 1 and no. 2 agreed for him to come with me was because he promised that nothing would happen between us. I was taken aback, but just the same I said sorry, that there was nothing really to it but deep inside, I really felt like shit. I felt so low with his insinuation that my reason on why I have brought him with me was for me to have a hand on him, and that the trip was sort of a bribe for me to have my way with him. I never told him how I felt, I just remained quiet during the remainder of our walk back to the hotel; he commented that he seemed like talking to no one, that I'm not paying attention to him. I said to myself, okay that's what you'll get from me and so I walked ahead of him, went directly to our room, took a shower and slept. The following morning, sensing that he won't even make the first move to speak, I gave in and said sorry again. In my mind I just don't want to ruin the rest of the trip. The rest of the trip went on with no more spats, we slept on separate beds. Did something happen during the trip? Yes, I playfully teased him and he succumbed each time. A horny bitch was what he thought of me, and so I played the horny bitch part to the hilt.

When we got back from the trip I have resolved to keep a certain distance. But then I think the expectation turned around; he expected more from me, he'd text and quizzed me on why I was not telling him my whereabouts; he'd ask if I miss him, before I usually said yes, but this time I said no, not anymore. I can go on for a couple of days without any communications with him, but when that happens, he'd initiate for us to meet, have dinner or just go out. I started seeking out again; I met a couple of guys from G4M. I mentioned this to him and he bugged me to tell him who these guys are. I gave him their aliases and he must have checked them out for he commented about these guys with disdain. I told him, I'm just meeting them not sleeping with them; I was trying to explore again. I really don't know what to think but he's giving me mixed signals. When he talks, he now talks of "us" and "our" he now plans with "us" and "our."

He promised to set me up with a guy he knows; someone he says is way better than those guys I am dating. He made true his promise, he introduced me to this guy over dinner; but then I was amused, he claimed he wanted to pair me up with this guy and yet he was the one who completely took over the dinner conversation. And after the dinner, he readily offered this guy to stay over at his place for the night, which he never, not even once offered me. In my mind, hello!!! You're paring me up with this guy and you're the one who gets to bring him home. Whoa! I really don't know what to make of this.

He started doing things with me which he did not want to do before. Out of the blue he wanted to come with me in the mass, which he never did before; he's a Buddhist as he claimed. Out of the blue he wanted to come and play badminton with my group. Out of the blue he wanted to invite my friends for dinner. He knows I regularly had dinner with my friends after the badminton games. Where on earth are all these coming from and where is this going to. Okay, maybe he really just would like to be one of the guys. So I acceded and agreed with what he wanted, I thought this would also be a good way for him to widen his circle of friends.

He planned to host an after badminton dinner treat for my friends. He made his dinner plan the day before, it was his first time to cook for a group and he's not too confident about his cooking, so he requested that I do not make the invitation yet. He said he'll give the invitation himself when he's sure that what he prepared would be good enough. That was perfectly fine with me; it's his place and he has all the right to extend the invitation. On that day, on our way to the badminton game, he mentioned that something was not right with what he prepared. He did not elaborate; I did not probed him either and just presumed that he did not want to proceed with his planned dinner. I just enjoyed my games and I saw him playing and enjoying the games with some other newbie's as well. But apparently during the course of the games he mentioned the plan to one of my friends and had actually given the invitation; he never told me that he did.

On our way back to his place, I was waiting for him to make the invitation for my friends who are riding with us in the car but again I didn't hear him extend any invitation. As I dropped him off in his place, he did extend an invitation but only for me to come back after I dropped off my other friends in the mall. I begged off that I will be heading home soon after a quick dinner in the mall. It was only when we were at the mall that my friend whom he had mention about the dinner told me about the supposed earlier invitation. At that point I expected that he would be mad at me for this and so it was not a surprise anymore when I got an angry txt message from him; but still I was surprised with the message "sorry, can't help it, but would like to know if you're still interested to keep me as your friend. Or do you prefer we go our separate ways?"

I did not reply at once, I was driving; as soon as I reached home I called his number, but he wouldn't take any of my calls. I texted him "of course, we're friends. What seems to be the problem?" I purposely did not mention that I have already known his earlier invitation to my friends; in my mind I just wanted for him to tell me so I can pounce on him for not telling me; but he did not reply either. Finally I texted him again this time with a long message "I just found out from my friend that you have actually extended the invitation for dinner (which you never told me). It was your instruction for me not to tell them as you would like to be the one to extend the invitation depending on the outcome of what you have prepared (to which I have complied and never told any of my friends about it). When you mentioned before the start of the games that something went wrong with what you have prepared, I assumed that you did not want to proceed with the dinner anymore. My assumption was further bolstered when I did not hear you mention this the whole time we were in the badminton center neither when we were in the car on our way back. I'm sorry for that wrong assumption, I should have asked, but you also led me to second guessing as you did not mention anything either. Again, I'm sorry!"

He replied after some time with a message: "It has nothing to do with the invitation or dinner. My problem with you is your insensitivity. I'm trying to cheer up every moment we were together but to no avail. I feel I'm out of place in your life. The whole time we were in badminton center you did not speak to me; I felt so stupid; I wanted to play with you but you did not put any effort to do so." He followed it up with: "You're so good at taking care of your friends. I give up on you. I'm tired. Anyway, thanks for the moments. Take care."

I was stunned; I didn't know how to react. Was I really that so bad and insensitive. Why these seemingly sudden expectations? I just texted him back: "I'm sorry if that's how you feel; to be honest yes, I'm consciously trying to keep distance coz we've decided to remain friends and yet I'm getting these mixed signals; it's confusing. Again I'm sorry, though I really would want to continue our friendship, I respect whatever it is that you decide"

He replied "what mixed signal? We have talked about this; I'm taking care of you coz you're my friend. That's why I introduced you to this guy, but look at what you did? I hope you two would get along well, coz I don't want you to be taken advantage of. I value you as a friend since I don't have any more friends here." He followed up "I have told you this before. This goes back to our first night in Bali, you've been like this. I've been so patient with you out of gratitude to you."

I never replied anymore, I think I have said enough.

I have made a fool of myself enough.

I really must move on.

I have moved on...

Anatomy of a G4M Date

2008-01-23T09:57:00.001+08:00

This happened not too long ago, written long ago as well, but languishing in the draft bin; might as well rehash, finish and post it for the sake of the story...

G4M is one of those internet dating services that proliferate the cyberworld. I discovered the site or was rather referred to the site on the prodding of a friend that this is a good venue to meet other guys anonymously. Indeed, in the short time that I have been a member, I must have flirted online with a dozen of anonymous guys; anonymous saved for what is written in their profiles; actually met and dated more than a couple and yes in a handful of cases have mated as well.

Whenever I go online to check my inbox, I also make it a point to search and see who the other guys are online. It's a fun way to while away time, reading catchy and sometimes bitchy aliases; reading profiles that can range from the mundane to the dramatic and overly dramatic; funny to downright ridiculous and so many other lengths guys err gays would write in order to make an interesting profile, to catch attention and in the hope catch someone who would dare.

A profile caught my attention; it simply reads "my life like my blurb is a work in progress."

I sent him a message: "… and looking at you (referring to his pictures posted in his profile) I can see what a beautiful progress it has been."

I did not get a reply until a week later, it simply reads: "thanks" signed with his name. I took it as a sign of interest even if it's just a one word response; most guys would never bother to even make any form of response if there is not even a pinch of interest in their bone. I never got to make a follow up reply until few days later. I boldly invited him for "a chat over a cup or a bottle of something." He responded "sure" and wasting no time I sent him my cellphone number at once.

About an hour later from the time I sent my last message, I got a text message from an unlisted number, the message reads "hey pj! here's my cp no. – (his name)" Hmmm... I thought I was fast, but he could be faster in this game or probably he was just leveling my swiftness. And so, the succeeding txt messages exchanged skipped anymore pleasantries as we directly set a meeting later that night, which was just a couple of hours away from that time on. I promptly cleared and finished whatever needs to be finished at work but a little snag prevented me from leaving workplace as planned. I was apologetic, what an impression I would make coming in late on a first date which I have actually initiated; in my book, that is one of the "Don'ts in a first date" tardiness. I texted him I'll be late; he agreed to wait and reset the time. As soon as I finished giving my order to an emergency patient referral; I speed on and took the skyway just to make sure I'll be there on the reset time. Although traffic was really bad, as it was drizzling that whole afternoon, familiarity with driving in Manila helped me made it on time. I parked on the first available space in the basement and raced up on foot to the floor of the mall where he was waiting: Powerbooks. I was about to enter the bookstore when I thought I caught sight of him in a section near the window. I retreated back as I was not sure if indeed it was him for neither of us gave any description, relying just on the pictures we both have seen of each other in our respective profiles, which are not deliberately that clear. I was about to call his number to confirm when I saw him walked towards my direction, he must have also seen me. We briefly held each other's hands for a handshake as we say each other's names in not so much of a question but more of confirmatory statement; I really don't know but that brief touch of hand was sort of electrifying for me. I must have looked goofy as I tried hard to keep my smile on check while my heartbeat raced a hundred-fold during that time. As I regained my composure I invited him to look for a place for us to have a dinner and chat. As we walked and as I make way for him in the escalator, the naughty me, got to admire a good view of his inviting asset. We settled for a brightly lit restaurant not far from where we started. I really don't know if our talk was that engaging that we barely finish the food we ordered or we're just both nervous of the whole meeting. There were not much people and the restaurant was not that busy but somehow it became uncomfortable that people seemed to be looking at us. I offered for us to leave and have coffee in another place.

I was not really familiar with the place and so I let him decide for us, this being his territory; but we were going nowhere so I took over and drove us to the Baywalk. We settled in one of the cafe cum bar with a live band just setting up to play for the night. We chose the far end corner, away from blaring speakers as we continue our talk, sitting side by side just an inch of a touching distance. We talked mostly about each other's lives; his life abroad when he went there for further study, his current works, his family and the things he would still like to pursue in the days coming. I must have told him stories of almost the same vein. I was already happy and contented with the way the date has progressed so far. I think the band has finished 3 sets already when I noticed him quickly glancing at his watch; it was already close to midnight. I thought this has been a long and engaging night. As much as I wanted to stay longer and spend more time with him, the lateness of the hour and the prospect of work in the morning, not to mention that I still have to drive to the other side of the metro for home, made me rather consider just setting another date. I was about to blurt this out when he said he wanted to ask me a question, but then he hesitated. After a little coaxing on my part he leaned closer and in an almost whisper voice asked "Don't you want for us to go to a more intimate place?"

I feigned ignorance and suppressed a growing smile as I simply asked him in return "why?" In my mind the train of thoughts was already racing; there goes my resolved on a first date.

He answered after a while "I've been wanting to hug and kiss you, that's why..." He followed it up with "... can't you see I've been trying to be content just to have a sniff of your scent here on your side?"

That did it: I have restrained myself at that point from holding him but I cannot suppress the wide smile on my face as I asked him if he was really sure about it; all this while my hand was already up in the air, frantically signaling the waiter to bring us our bill. I cannot suppress a nervous giggle when it took some time for the waiter to notice my raised and waving hand. The short walk to the car was spent in silence peppered with suppressed laugh and giggle as we look at each other with shy silliness. I held his hand as soon as we settled in the car; he leaned forward on my side for a brief hug. We continued holding hands as we sped off to the night to some intimate place, where the sun never shine; we spent the rest of the night, or rather the first part of that beautiful morning in a blissful embrace in each other's arms.

As we parted and went our way to work sleepily late that morning we exchanged text message:

Him: "mood: happy. soundtrack: "I got u under my skin"

Me: "Heaven… I'm in heaven…"

Office Politics

2008-01-21T10:32:00.001+08:00

There is nothing more difficult to deal with in any office setting than politics. Hospital, a place for caring the sick, where art and science gets to be practiced in the realm of medicine is where one would probably least expect politics to be displayed as part of its existence is definitely not exempted from this and could even be a glaring example of how one defines politics; the power and ability to impose one's will even in the face of opposition. Politics per se is not a detestable display of human behaviour for it is an accepted process for important decisions to be made and concluded.

What is difficult is being caught in the middle of it all. And that is the shaky ground my precarious position and person has sometimes been put into. Inner conflict arises to satisfy and uphold the rationality and sensibility of my boss's decisions but at the same time I'm also caught off guard for the decisions ultimately affect the very people I'm working with, people who are my colleagues, my mentors and my friends. It's not so much a question of defensibility for I know the decisions can very well stand the scrutiny of reason and fairness. But to my mind this is just one part of the bigger equation. Somehow, the soft side in me also put more weight on the decision that is made with equanimity and compassion.

That is one thing I get to admire my boss; no matter how unpopular his decisions are, he will stand by it for they are approached and made with logic and reasons; always with the end to uphold the rule of law and what to him is fair and equal. I may never completely agree with him all the time, but I get to respect him as well for recognizing and taking into considerations the other dimension I get to bring to his thinking process; somehow, I get to let him see as well the more tempered and compassionate part of the equation.

Conflicts are already brewing and the tug war starting. I just hope people do not get to tug on me too much as to compromise the decency of my work and position.

Crush

2008-01-20T11:04:00.002+08:00

A friend recently related the importance for him to have a crush on another person for him to possibly consider something more serious like love and relationship.

Crush can be defined as an overwhelming sense of attraction and admiration, mostly physical but it can be some other attributes that one so idolizes and or idealizes in another person. My other definition of crush is that the attraction should be instantaneous; to me that is the ultimate crush. Chances are, one may mistake it for love and or in other instance, the basis for love and relationship.

I really do not know if there is such a thing as rightness or wrongness of acting out on one's crush. It is true, that in a way this is the impetus that makes one act to lead it into possible romance and relationship. But sometimes if not most of the times, relationships that start this way can get stuck in this level and never goes past beyond what is supposedly idealized and move on to what is practical, more sensible and enduring part of relationship.

I started having crush way back when I was just in grade school. Most of my childhood crushes were of the opposite sex. Some of them I can still vividly remember: There is S1, a childhood playmate, a beauty with her long wavy hair, thick brows, curly lashes, fair skin and she smells so good that I would always sidled up to her whenever I had chance; I must have been one hell of a horny boy to even had those desire at that age, but my young mind was not even aware of those. What I knew then was that I must be near her whenever possible. Then there is S2, a campus sweetheart; a bit chubby but a combination of beauty and brains; she's a consistent honor student. There is M1, shy, unassuming, fragile looking girl; what really caught me were her seemingly soulful eyes. I still had my crush on her even when I was in High School. The others were really just passing fancy: M2 who was my first kiss; V because she had crush on me first; A, B, C and some other girls, I cannot remember the names anymore.

Confused as I was, I never had doubts even during those times that I was also attracted to the same sex. It's just that I didn't pay too much attention for somehow I know, it's not supposed to be. I can only remember 2 guys from way back in grade school. One is T, really cute the perennial partner of S2, but he is also a jerk. He typifies the popular but villainous jock of typical juvenile movies. And then there is E, also cute and popular guy, but down to earth and the hero type of guy, he became my best friend during that time. (The subject of Ulan Story No. 2)

My high school life was also peppered with crushes but being in the seminary I even tried to suppress it for these were not just innocent crush anymore but were already mixed with sexual malice. There is K, our own crush ng bayan, almost the whole community had a crush on her. She's one of the anticipated attractions of our Sunday activities, family day. And then there was V, one of the granddaughters of the seminary's benefactors. Let me just call her that, I just can't recall her name, my other mates would rather go for her more voluptuous sister but I cannot forget her, to me her sultry looks, her curvaceous body, mounds of a cleavage and those rounded buns that would instantly give me a hard-on whenever I see her in tight-fitting jeans; I almost creamed my pants one time she bent over with those buns just inches in front of me; but those buns I tell you have really brought me several wet dreams, I think those were the first time I had wet dreams. And what would one expect in an all boys school, not just any ordinary all boys school but a seminary. I had several crushes on my co-seminarians all of them in non-sexual way except one that really stood out, A. He is the class bully, rough, good looking and charming in his own way that made him too confident and cocky as well. I cannot forget him coz he was the very first guy who ever did touch me, sexually. I was so scared the first time he teased and played mine; he was pinning me down in bed with his big bulk (he was much bigger than I was) as I struggled to resist him; in reality I was unbelieving that this macho type of a guy was actually touching me sexually, doing it to me and in my mind I was scarily enjoying as well the jerk off he was giving me. It was more of a willing resistant that I gave him the second time he did it to me. Sexual urge and pleasure became the basis of my crush on him.

Another huge crush I had, happened when I was in College. A, named Goddess of Love, Goddess of my desire. But one problem whenever I have a huge crush is that, I instantly become a bumbling idiot, no words would come out and my mind would be blank. It was happy contentment just looking at her especially her big, sparkling eyes. She has this sweet image, very unassuming, looks that is a dead-ringer for Sharon Cuneta, I just don't know if she can sing as well. My mind told me she could be interested too, but then she could have been just accommodating to a bumbling idiot like me. I never got the chance to tell her I like her or even pursue any possibility as I transferred school after 2 years. Through all the years since, I had this nagging sense of 'what if' and 'what could have been.'

I searched: asked around people I encountered to have been connected with her one way or another. I even went back several times to that school in the hope that I would encounter people who might still be in the know about her. My luck came 6 or 7 years ago when I typed her name in one of the search engines in the net and there she was; still using her old name that means she's not married, that put my hopes up. She had several photos in her profile. She looked so different, she looked sexy and naughty in her pictures, and some were actually beguiling. Her photos showed the opposite persona I knew her to be. I took the courage and sent her an e-mail, this lead eventually to chat in the net and exchange of numbers. I got to know her on a very different light. I told her, she was completely different from the person I knew from College. She was married with 3 grown up kids and she recently just got back using her maiden name, having been legally separated for several years. She admitted being completely different, she had to, as she reasoned she had to survive a very bad marriage and she's raising 3 kids on her own. She has come a long way from her own pit of depression and lowest low. She really was a completely new person when I met her, no longer the Athena I had crush in College. I no longer have to wonder on what if and what could have been; the answer had long been buried somewhere in the past. We became friends after that and have remained friends.

I still get to have crushes. I have acted on some of them, but others remained at that, just a crush. And definitely this is one spice of life that will always be welcome in my life. I have learned my lessons: crush is my impulse of attraction but I have to see pass that for me to really say that I have love.

Musing IV: Hope

2008-01-18T13:08:00.001+08:00

I stayed in bed this morning, finished a movie and came in late for work as a consequence. I usually wake up to my alarm, the TV set to go on every 6:00 AM; and this morning it happened to be tuned to a movie channel. A movie was just starting, "Lord of Thieves" I think was the title. A movie set in Venice about a bunch of orphaned kids each with their own little stories and their adventures together to survive the city doing thievery; intertwined with another plot, the adults and their search for supposedly mythical 'merry go round' of youth. The movie ended with both of them getting what they wished for: one of the kids to go fast forward and be an adult and the adults getting back their youth. Enough said, I like juvenile and cheesy movie lol!

As I slowly took my sweet time preparing for work, I was already late anyway. I opened a page of my daily reflection booklet and the day's reflection is on Hope. What a way to start my day, serendipitously. I got to ponder on the words of PJP2 "Hope is not an empty optimism... rather a premise of responsibile activity..."

Flashback to my youthful days: 5th grade was about to end, I and two other friends (Islaw and Simeon, gosh I suddenly remember them - I wonder where they are now?) were watching the practice 'march' of the graduating class. We excitedly watched and pointed out that the following year; we would be the ones marching to the beat, getting up the stage and do all those ritual of graduation ceremonies. We stayed in that open grounds even after the practice has finished. We playfully did our own march as we hum along the beat. We daydreamed on that day; youthful bashing on dreams and ambitions, what we want to be, what we would do, what we could be doing in the years and decades far; family we would want to have, kids we would want to raise; the possible vices that we might even acquire throughout the years including the possible sickness, old age scenarios and death that can befall us in the twilight.

I can still remember some of the things I have bragged on that day: I would be doctor someday, not just a doctor but a successful one at that with all the knowledge and power to heal and help, not to mention all the trappings of wealth it brings; I bragged that I would someday have my own family, a wife and kids and that I would want to start my own family at my early age of 20's; I bragged that someday, the school would invite me to the very same graduation ceremonies for me to give inspirational talk to the would be generation; I bragged of success and triumphs only my young minds could imagine. I even bragged my possible would be vice, smoking but definitely not gambling or alcohol.

Those were the things that I have hoped for. Looking back, I may have eschewed a lot of roads, even got to tread completely different roads but here I am now back to the road my young minds have initially laid out for me. I have gone astray a lot of times, but still the things that I have hoped, somehow always helped me back. I'm now a doctor, successful in my own way and by the standards of what my friends would like to measure me. I now live independently, with the wealth and opportunities that my profession has given me. Yes, I have smoked since the age of 15 but has stopped for almost 2 years now for the fear of what my young mind has also foretold my possible exit mode would be, a painful lung problem (I don't know how I came to that thinking during that time, but my idea that it would be a painful existence and death because of smoking actually stemmed from that time on).

I don't know if my hope to have my own family shall ever pass; having long ago passed that age I have set it in my mind; also having long ago accepted the fact that I am gay. Against the odds, my hope is still there and I have long ago also resolved that whomever I would want to start a family, would be on the premise of that person's complete acceptance of my being and that my utmost responsibility in turn would be my complete trust and devotion.

I'm a hopeless, romantic fool in that way. The pessimist in me would say that this could be happening only in an ideal world and not in this imperfect world. But then I also realize, hope is what I live for.

Signs of Times II

2008-01-10T09:53:00.001+08:00

Is my past catching up with me?

Last night as I was logged in ym, a message popped: "hello" from someone of long ago, okay 4 or was it 5 years was not too long ago. He asked, if I still remember him? Yes, of course; I don't easily forget people I have slept with. At least those I have slept more than once.

We were sort of weekend lovers then, we only got to see each other during weekends. And come to think of it, he was at least one of those that I have not had sex on a first date. In fact it must have been on the 4th or 5th weekend that we have been going out that we hit the sack. And to think, we met in ym with a lot of sexual innuendos as a prelude to our initial meeting. But he was relatively young at that time 24 or 26 (I think); still confused, having or just broke with her girlfriend at that time and claimed to be still a straight guy even after repeated sexual encounters with another guy. He did, initiate our first sexual encounter and still claimed to be straight even after several more of that encounters.

Come to think of it, I don't think I'll ever forget him for the hilarity of one of our encounters, the last of our encounter to be precise; we were in the middle of it all, when I got a call from a frantic patient who is bleeding to death. It was so bad of me, giving out instructions to a patient over the phone while doing it still, well, actually trying to sustain the momentum for my mind (or was it my groin) was also telling me that I have to perfunctory release the built-up sexual tension after the call. I hastily calculated in my mind the travel time I have to make to the hospital. It was all haste after that call; it was just after midnight when I proceeded to the hospital. It was indeed a toxic call, I had to stay bedside to closely monitor and manage my critically ill patient; I only got to take a short nap for 2 hours when my patient was brought to the operating room for an emergency surgery procedure to control the bleeding. I got home very late that following afternoon when everything turned stable.

I got a call from him just as I was heading home. He was unbelieving that I was and still in the hospital from the time we parted. He had his speculations; I have a very tired mind and body; my exhaustion got the better part of my judgement and so I ended the call promptly with a goodbye, alas that turned out to be the final goodbye. We never got to see or talk after that, until last night.

We did not talk about 5 years ago. I got to see him, at least on webcam. He still looks good. Nothing serious was talked about. The naughty I of course tried flirting with him, but he is with someone now, just few months old as he claimed. That's already my signal; that is one rule I would like to keep, never get involve with someone who's already with someone. Nevertheless, it was nice catching up with him again, even if it's just in the web.

Signs of Times

2008-01-09T13:50:00.001+08:00

This blog has been inspired in part by F and it's almost 2 years since. It was almost the same time I had my romance with him. Although, ours was very much a short-lived affair, I have learned a lot and come to realize things about myself, what I'm capable of in terms of love and relationship; that I'm not as inured as I had let myself believed; and that in fact I am perfectly capable of loving and committing to anothe person. I have tried to continue a friendly relation with him after we broke up, but have since almost lost communication save for occasional hi and hello electronically.

I'm a hopeless romantic and a sentimental fool that it's not atypical of me that at times I think and reminisce on good memories I had with people I have come to love or even those who I have come to be at odds. Still, I find it uniquely strange to wake up one early morning, just the other day, with a very vivid dream of F. The dream was about us meeting on a trip; sharing a wonderful time together and eventually reconnecting this chance.

I had a lot of things running in mind since that morning. One realization was that he was the last person I had sexually consummated a first date. Not that it's de rigueur for me to have sex on a date; I usually go out on a date with intention to meet a person and possibly know that person on a deeper plane and possibly explore the possibility of a relationship; if sex happen on the date, it was because of the moment and certainly not forced upon. In a sort of foolish way, this has become my gauge as well of possible relationship in the offing, if the date would be sexually consummated on the first date. As a result of failed relationships that started this way I had since resolved to avoid sex on a first date, with the thinking that sex, probably is not a good way to start a relationship. And I had since then, consciously avoided sex on a first date; but just the same the result was more dismal than encouraging.

And so on that morning, oh well, that is me, over-analyzing and superstitiously connecting chance and events again; have taken it that perhaps it is a sign that I should go back to my old ways with regard to my self-imposed rules on dates and just let the moment take me wherever the date would lead to. There's no use tempting the fate to go against what's supposed to happen; if sex is part of it so be it.

The superstitious in me, left my mind wondering on what could also be happening to him. That afternoon, I sent an e-mail message to him; that I have dreamt of him and that I hope he's okay in a way. He responded with surprise to my message, that he's okay and that he recently moved residence, giving out his new place. The place he gave was in the same area I had recently moved. This thought got me so excited that I sent him a txt message that we have become almost neighbours. He responded in a positive way, though neither of us exactly knows how near or far each of us is. It got me so riled up that my mind just went into possible modes. I asked myself repeatedly, do I still love him? Do I still have feelings for him? The question put a stop to my train of thoughts. The answer from the time we parted has not changed since, yes I still do have feelings for him, and my love for him is still there. I have to rein myself, and be reminded of my initial resolved when we parted: Painful as it may have been to let him go and painful as it may be still, I have to let him be. Yes, there is no question, I still do love him, but as I have let him flown away, I cannot win him back, I can only hope for him to come back. I can sense he is not coming back. I can only hope...

Serendipitously, as I have come to that resolved and as I was about to retire for the night I received a forwarded text message, the end of which reads... "learn how to let go and move on..."

Uncanny signs indeed... :)

Make Peace

2008-01-04T09:22:00.001+08:00

Along the journey, I may have wronged a lot of people; and given this opportunity I would like to make peace with:

God.

For the times I have doubted him and his infinite goodness
For the cynicism and lost of faith in my religion
For my selfish pride and all the sins of my own accord and omission

My Parents, siblings and family

For I could have been a far better son and brother
For the times I was not even a son or a brother
For the thought that I should have been another's son or brother
All my friends

For the times not spent
For the trust broken
For the pain in words said and left unsaid
All my mentors, patients and their love ones

For the words "thank you," which I never got to say
For the compassion and care which I have failed to completely give
For the times I failed my oath
All the Men and Women I have loved

For the hurt and pain I have caused in love
For the words unsaid, time not spent and the love not felt
For the loss and doubt in love and trust

To all thee, I make peace for the pain of loving me.

10 Things I'm Happy For

2008-01-03T10:50:00.001+08:00

An exercise for today, list the 10 things that I am happy about:

My being
The journey of life itself
People who have shared and walked with my journey
Profession that provides opportunities
All the gains that opportunities have provided
Opportunities to provide in return
The power to give and share
The burden and hurt that makes me strive for betterment
The experience of goodness
The wisdom I have gained through it all

Minores

2008-01-02T14:34:00.001+08:00

I really do not know what has gotten into me, but I have been so morbidly thinking of my mortality these past few days. Is it sign of mid-life crisis? I do not know. I just know that I am now aware of my mortality, that anytime my being shall pass. This got me into thinking that most people work so hard to be remembered for the life they live, they are aware of their mortality that is why they work so hard to do deeds that will immortalize them. I am no exception; and to this I have intimated to a friend that should I be gone, he should get hold of this blog and print it for my family and friends to read and know the other side me, the whole of me. This shall be my memoir.

As I have written in Ulan Story No. 2, a very significant part of my life was spent in the minor seminary. Unfortunately, not so pleasant circumstances brought my leaving the seminary in 1985 that unconsciously I have completely severed ties since. It took more than a decade for me to reconnect the ties that bind a significant part of my life with the very people that I have shared those happiest four years of my life.

I was not alone in my search as I have come to know. One by one we were able to re-establish the link and this culminated in a reunion that was held in 2002, in the very grounds where the tie was made. I have written an account of that event...

Minores

Our homage to the place and time we call home.

Home we will always treasure & embrace to come back to.

Background

The Seminary was established in the late 1960's catering to the needs of educating minor seminarians in the Diocese. It closed its doors in the mid 70's after graduating its 1st generation of minores. It opened its door again to minor seminarians in 1979 producing its 2nd and last generation of minores before it permanently stopped accepting minor seminarians in 1985.

Minores group was formed, at least loosely and unofficially from the desire of these former minor seminarians specifically the second generation, to reconnect, rekindle and re-establish old ties, friendship and brotherhood that was nurtured and forged during those youthful years of their lives.

For some if not all of us, that desire has been lingering for so long it was but a matter of time before someone begins the search. Well, let me be a little bit more wistful and recount to you how it came about, at least from my vantage point.

The wonders of modern technology certainly helped. My search started in 1999 with the Internet when I registered Seminary in Alumni.net. And from there the ball started rolling, at least for me so to speak. The first time I ever got to meet again a minores was during the birthday celebration of Mats in Los Banos, year 2000. It was then that the thought of having a grand reunion was conceived. However, no subsequent follow up and planning were made. E-mail and text messages helped us stay connected, as phonebook keeps adding up more names. It took another birthday celebration, this time of Manok's in Antipolo last week of November 2002, when the idea resurfaced. Taking cue from the last time, we never left Antipolo without setting a date and place. And so it was at that spur of the moment that it came about for minores to come back home on December 28, 2002. A simple call the following day to confirm the date and venue with the current Fr. Rector of the now Major Seminary.

Initial target of 15-20 people attendance steadily grew as everyday new contacts were made i.e. through e-mails, text, phone calls and personal rounds. More than anything else, one cannot dismiss the big influence and inspiration the 'Mounty boys' (term I have used for minores overseas as majority of them are based in Canada) have given us, you just have to read the constant flow of e-mails to understand. Everyone really did his part.

There was no turning back now, with barely a month to prepare the self-appointed initial steering committee composed of Vince, Jun, Mike, Mario and myself, met for the first time with Fr. Jerry last December 7 to set goals and define tasks. Weekly meetings were held from then on aside from the almost daily exchanges of text and e-mail messages. It was about this time that Minores was born and everything that follows are posted at the yahoogroup created.

Attendance

A total of 77 people were contacted from a master list of 140. Contacts were made either through phone, e-mails and personal rounds. Of these 77 people 17 did not make it due to geographic reason (US, Canada, Mindanao etc.) A total of 42 Minores came on that day listed here alphabetically, but if we can give distinction to the one who came first, that would be Gilbert who traveled by sea and land for more than 24-hours and arrived on the eve of the fellowship. Also in attendance were our formators during those times, including all of our lay teachers which we have painstakingly located.

A short friendly game was supposed to follow the registration, but no one seem interested to play, so everyone just milled around the grounds and the endless kumustahan and banters started until or even continued during the batch meeting and well beyond dinner time.

Mass

A thanksgiving Mass was celebrated by Fr. Jerry with Rey and Nestor as server. Domeng served as the lector. Gilbert and Felmor lead the singing. Everyone sang his hearts out, especially Nestor who unknowingly was given a solo part. To be honest, I had goose bumps. It was a very solemn moment that I cannot seem to describe it here. Fr. Jerry commented also on this during his homily when he reminisced some more on those days. The following are also the excerpt of the prayers of the batches and their symbolic offering.

Batch 82 offered their class picture with them garbed/posing as the twelve apostles, the batch being composed of only 12 people. And as they offer their class picture Gilbert read:

" The first batch of the new Seminary signifies the importance of what Christ's 12 apostles did in the beginning of the church. Since Peter the rock first martyred, mankind's salvation was facilitated through the blood of the 12 apostles."

Batch 83 offered an image of Sto. Nino Bambino de Aracoeli. And as they offer the image Felmor read: "Sto. Nino Bambino de Aracoeli. Represents our batch as a sign of being young and united. As a sign of child-like attitude and deep concern with the son of God." A prayer was also offered for peace in the middle-east, that being the time of turmoil, and with some members of minores currently working in the middle east during that time.

Batch 84 (where I belong) offered a 'leaf' and Philip read the offering:

"Batch 84 offers as its symbol a leaf. This icon was taken from the song 'The Last Leaf' which was very much affiliated with our batch, not only because it became a favorite during batch jamming, but also because it's content was relevant to the many events in our lives together during our seminary days. Many of these events affected us so much that it seemed already hopeless but we were able to survived and live because of hope, which the last leaf symbolizes. Our batch offer this leaf as a symbol of hope for all of us.'

Fr. Evan read the batch 84's prayer that goes:

Nagpapasalamat kami sa biyaya ng panahon
Sa panahon ng pagkalagas.
Sa panahon ng pag usbong at pag sibol.
Sa panahon ng pananatiling tapat sa pagkakaibigan
Sa panahon ng pagputi at pangingitim
Sa panahon ng pagkikita, pagtatagpo, pagtatanong, pagtataka
Na syang nagpalago at nagpayabong ng aming malay at kamalayan.
Pagyamanin mo ang panahon ng pananalangin namin
lalong-lalo na sa mga taong nakipaglakabay sa amin
ang aming mga magulang, mga kamag-anak
ang aming mga taga-hubog, mga guro, kusinero, labandera,
kapitbahay na makikisig at maririkit,
mga kamagaaral, ka-seminaryo
Sa mga naririto at di nakaparito
Sa mga naroroon at nasa dako pa roon.
At sa natatanging paraan nais naming ipanalangin si Fr. Jack
na nagbukas ng mga yugto-yugto at bolta-boltaheng karanasan.
Patuloy na pagbibiyaya ang dalangin namin para sa kanya.
Lahat ng ito'y nangyari sa iyong panahon.
At muli naming iaasa sa'yo na siyang may tadhana sa di nagmamaliw na panahon.

Batch 85 offered 'walis tingting' I just can't seem to find their text.
Fr. Albert read their prayer:
'We pray for our brothers and sisters who are gathered here today to celebrate life. May this gathering bring us closer together as the year pass by. As we pray for the living, we also remember our beloved brothers and sisters who have gone to their rest, enumerating the name of Minores, teachers, priests, katiwalas and friends who have gone to their rest.

Tokens
A short program ensued, hosted by Gil. During the program, Batch 82 was honored on their 15th year anniversary. Those present, Domeng, Gilbert, Roger and Vincent, were given a token, a simple wooden picture frame with message that reads:

Minores Fellowship 2002

Our simnple token of appreciation for the time you have spent and shared with us.
We will always remember with fondness the camaraderie, Friendship and brotherhood that we have forged. Mabuhay ka Kapatid!!!

Next to be honored were the Formators and teachers present. They also received the same token of wooden picture frame with the message that reads:

Minores Fellowship 2002
Our simple token of appreciation for time you have spent with us during our early journey in life.
What we are now and what we have become is the best gift that we can give you in return.
Salamat Po !!!

During the presentation of tokens to the teachers each of them were given the chance to give a short talk. Mostly reminiscing about the old days, with some repartee on the side, especially on who were the teacher's pet and pests.

A sumptuous dinner and drinks followed in the newly constructed recreational bar and hall which used to be the first year classroom of old days. What followed is spirited reminiscing and discussions, which lasted till early Sunday morning.

We held another reunion the following year, much bigger in scope having more time to prepare. We have continued to be in touch since. I'm going to meet later some of them who have gone home for the holidays; time to reminisce again on good old days.

My Prayer: 2008

2008-01-01T10:07:00.000+08:00

Welcome 2008!!!

I thank God for the gift of the years behind.
I pray with renewed hope for the journey on...
Let me find the surprises in life;
Let me live the surprises of life;
Let me be one of the surprises of life;
Let me surprise life this time;
Let the surprise be mine;
Let me...
Oh Lord...!!!

:)

Musing III: Closet

2007-12-28T13:54:00.000+08:00

Am I still in the closet...???

This I have come to ask myself when confronted by the fact that I have been going out with PLU for quiet sometime now; specifically that I have been regularly playing badminton with a gay group, some of them are actually loud, in a good fun of way. One of the usual closet case mind-set is the fear, the cringe on the mere thought of being seen, caught would actually be the better word, in the company of gay people, especially the out and loud ones. I'm no different in this aspect, but somehow I have also been comfortable in the company that being seen with them is no longer a big issue, though I would like to admit it is still somehow an issue. So what does that make me? Halfway out of the closet?

There's still fear in me of being found. The only difference is that this time, I'm prepared to be found. I have even made it a point that I play my part in the act of being found, for I know, surprises comes not only with the one who is found but more so to other end of one who found. As I mentioned in previous post, I don't feel the need to proclaim to the whole world my being different, for I do not owe anyone an explanation of who I am. But I have also come to realize that I don't need to perpetuate a life of lie when confronted by the reality of being found. Does this make me still hidden and thus halfway out of the closet?

Have I really come to accept my being different? Is there still fear in me of being different?
Yes, I would say that definitely, I have accepted my being different; the realization that I would never ever come to subscribe to the usual norms and that really makes me different. Certainly, the fear is still in me, that it would never go away, that fear is no longer in the realm of being different but in the thought of being boxed in a label, which would never go away as well for as long as bigotry remains a word in the dictionary.

What constitute a closet for a gay man, anyway?
Certainly it does not confine anyone to a single known and defined imaginary four-walls but rather it is a cacophony of endless fears of unknown possibilities, foremost of which could be fear of rejection and being labelled as different from the usual norms. I know that acceptance and rejection is an integral part of one's existence and this I have come to resolve when I accepted that I am different; but certainly I still cringe at the thought of being labelled as one. Endless possibilities of fear would continue to come my way; I just have to deal with them one at a time, or in some cases I really don't have to deal with them for reason that there's actually no reason for me to fear them.

I don't think being out of the closet means parading in town wearing one's badge of gayness. Being Out of the closet means freeing one's self of the shackles of one's own prejudice and fear of being gay more than the superficiality of freedom to shout to the world of one's gayness. In that definition, yes, I think I'm still halfway out of the closet.

Ulan Story No. 3: A Walk in the Rain

2007-12-28T13:33:00.000+08:00

This one's been long in coming. Finally the urge to write this came when I woke up on a rainy morning a day after Christmas, a day after I hosted for the first time our family's Christmas lunch.

This story happened in the not too recent past, Christmas 2004.
Christmas 2004 is just one of the highlights in the long overdrawn drama in the family. But this one I think would be the overly dramatic highlight, picture this: Christmas eve of 2004, few hours before the stroke of midnight, amidst the festive cool air of Christmas, I was walking stretches of desolate road , soaking wet in thunderous rain, searching vainly for my lost sister who has gone astray of home and this world, literally and figuratively. I can no longer imagine and I do not want to recall anymore the thoughts, morbid and other gruesome scenarios, running through my head during that time as I continued walking that desolate road.

Backtrack more than a year before that. I got a frantic call from my elder sister telling me to come quickly for something bad has happened to my other sister, a suicide attempt: wrist slashing and drinking poisonous concoction nobody knows what. An attempt, as I came to know and realized only at that time, a result of a long battered-wife existence. As I get caught of her sorry state in that small clinic/hospital where she was brought; the doctor in me tells me that she will definitely survive the physical problem of slashed wrist and poisoning; but definitely not the emotional/psychological scar that I know and I'm afraid to admit is just starting to unfold.

And it was, as I have predicted just the start of our long battle with her major clinical depression; not to mention the various legal, financial and emotional toil it has exacted to the rest of us, family members. I have to go through with her with several confinement in the hospital, including the dreaded ECT treatments and weeks of isolation and heavy sedations. It was already taxing for me to deal with her medical condition and it was made doubly hard for I have to deal as well with the rest of the family who cannot seemed to comprehend the ongoing turmoil or as I have surmised probably refuse to accept that fact. I have become a referee, mediating on my sister's needs and the need to satisfy as well the rest of the family who in their stage of denial have also felt the need to be assuaged of the situation. Most of the time I'm caught in the middle, made more difficult by the fact that the family have relegated to me the responsibility of making all sorts of decisions; I am the youngest in the family and this I cannot really fathom. One part of me shouts with pride for the trust and responsibility my family has given to me being a son, a brother, a doctor and to the wisdom of my being; but another part of me was crying out foul for the burden put upon me. I dutifully did my part, despite all the pain and difficulties.

And so on that stormy Christmas Eve, I got a frantic call from my parents who were extremely anxious when my sister was nowhere to be found shortly after she had an altercation with her son. It was almost close to midnight when I got a call to proceed to her house. I found her already towelled dried and warming in bed, sobbing still and would only allow me to be near her. Somehow, she must have found her way back home on her own. I spent the rest of the night beside her in bed as she sobbed and waited in vain for sleep to find her, amidst all her fears and my reassurance to her every pleas. I woke up on that morning feeling more exhausted and oblivious that it was Christmas Day. I can't recall anymore how the rest of that Christmas day went.

Thankfully, she was able to pick up her shattered life, it was a slow and exasperating recovery for her and the rest of the family. She was put off her medications the following year. It was a hard climb out of the pit. I felt sorry for my parents for having been put into the ordeal despite their advancing age. At the same time I felt relief that my parents are still around to help us see this thing through. They have shown an overwhelming resilience and I feel remorseful at the same time for I know they have been robbed of the chance to enjoy their retirement and that I could have done more to lighten up their burden, I just have been selfish at times.

She left for the prospect of a renewed life in another country in 2006. This Christmas of 2007, her son finally joined her and hopefully the pit of nightmare will just be but part of dustbin of memory.

My First Christmas Dinner at Home

2007-12-10T11:07:00.000+08:00

This year I hosted for the first time our annual Christmas dinner with my doctor-friends. It has been a tadition that started way back when we were still residents-in-training, that was 10 years ago. We started out with just the 12 of us having dinner and exchanging gifts and through the years, we have seen the evolution of including whoever one's dating at the time, then one's girlfriend or boyfriend, then as they got married the husbands and wives and then the kids and hopefully not too soon the would-be daughters or sons-in-law as we jokingly relished the thought when one related the travails that they (as parents) have to go through when they got to discover that one of their daughters already has a boyfriend. There's still room for wives and/or boyfriends for the 4 of us still single in the group.

Dinner's have always been potluck, my usual assignment have always been either dessert or drinks or some other stuff needing no preparation, I, being the consistently single in the group. This year I, aside from hosting the venue, have promised to cook and prepare the whole dinner that most of them were unbelieving that I can cook; I even got calls at the last minute checking if indeed there's no need to bring food.

For a week I have been preparing the menu in my mind. I started the actual preparation with a trip to the supermarket right after work on Friday night. First item done on friday night: Chicken Macaroni salad which is already cooling perfectly in the refrigerator as I made a trip to the Baclaran Seaside market on early Saturday morning. Item on the list: Whole chicken, Galunggong, Lapu-Lapu, Pork Pata, Swahe, veggies and the ever elusive kamias for my galunggong dish, which I is still failed to procure; I picked up some fresh flowers as well on my way out of the market

I spent almost the whole of that Saturday morning preparing the food to be cooked: simmering the pork, marinating the chicken, making pinangat na galunggong in palayok; chopping, slicing, grating, cleaning.... I went out for a couple of hours just to make my hospital rounds and as soon as I get back home started the actual cooking.

(Dinner Menu)

Chicken Macaroni Salad
Roasted Chicken in Lemon and Herbs
Crispy Galunggong in Garlic- Olive Oil
Crispy Pata ala Lechon Kawali
Vegetables (Okra and Kangkong) in Butter garlic sauce
Lapu-Lapu in Oyster- Ginger Sauce
Freshly steamed Sugpo ( though I forgot to make the lemon-butter sauce)
Pancit Canton (a soggy disaster; first time I used that kind of egg noodle)

My first guests arrived just as I was finishing my last dish; and as one by one they arrived I was still tidying up the kitchen and myself as I was a complete mess of smell as well. It was a good cacophony of endless chatter of compliments as they admire and scrutinized every corners of my new home. First on the table were all the kids who went mostly for the salad, chicken and the bilao of pansit malabon brought by Ray and pork barbeque brought by edwin. Dessert was ice cream and chocolate cake courtesy of joel and dondo. I herded all the kids into my room after they have eaten and let them frolic in my bed as they watch disney movie in the big TV screen. That freed the table for the rest of us to enjoy the dinner: almost every dish was a hit, completely consumed as a gauge, except for the pancit which was a disaster, blame it on the noodles that I used. They are incredulous that I can whip out those dishes. The rest of the evening was spent on endless chatter on goings on with each one of us. It was way past midnight when we exchanged gifts, the usual finale for the night's end. I did not have anything to exchanged, they have all eaten it, a delectable dinner I lovingly and single-handedly prepared, and it was well appreciated.

My First Christmas Decor...

2007-12-10T09:23:00.000+08:00

my first attempt at christmas decor.... :)

Merry Christmas

Life begins at 40...???

2007-11-08T16:16:00.000+08:00

Age is but a number in the hands of time.
Just the same, I still got the jolt when I received a text message invitation to celebrate the 40th birthday of a childhood friend. The number 40 suddenly brought flashback of memories and what have been where at now and the foreboding realization of what could be from hereon...

Where I'm at now is something I'm proud about; knowing that where I'm at now has been shaped by what have been, whether it was pain or joy; they are all now sweet memories to be reminisced.

What could be from hereon is the story yet to be told.
Life they say begins at 40, I'm about to live it and hopefully the stories would be as sweet as what have been.

PinoyGay Blog Roll

2007-11-06T16:22:00.000+08:00

Someone has inspired me to create this blog ;
that someone has long been gone and here I am still struggling to blog...

I've been following this blog - manilagayguy for quite sometime now and here I am now trying to link up with pinoygayblog hoping somehow to also inspire or even just make one think of this life.

Walking down the "Avenue Q"

2007-09-10T09:04:00.000+08:00

Disappointment was all over me when someone I've been asking out for a date, cancelled out, again, at the last minute. We were supposed to see Avenue Q on that date and serendipitously just as he called to cancel I was listening to this piece of song...

How poignant quirks can be...???

There’s A Fine, Fine Line
(by Katie Monster, Avenue Q)

There’s a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend;
There’s a fine, fine line between reality and pretend;
And you never know ’til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb.
There’s a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time.
There’s a fine, fine line between a fairy tale and a lie;
And there’s a fine, fine line between “You’re wonderful” and “Goodbye.”
I guess if someone doesn’t love you back it isn’t such a crime,
But there’s a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of your time.
And I don’t have the time to waste on you anymore.
I don’t think that you even know what you’re looking for.
For my own sanity, I’ve got to close the door
And walk away…
Oh…
There’s a fine, fine line between together and not
And there’s a fine, fine line between what you wanted and what you got.
You gotta go after the things you want while you’re still in your prime…
There’s a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time.

Dilemma

2007-09-08T22:58:00.000+08:00

I am gay; whatever kind of label one puts at it, I would always be defined as someone, a man who likes/loves another man. I have already come to accept that part of me and I don't think of any other thing happening could ever change that. This fact, I have intimidated to someone who apparently got so infatuated with me. But despite this pronouncement, she persists; it's almost nine months now.

What did she see/find in me? I really do not know: I'm no swashbuckling, macho type of guy; I'm no flamboyantly debonair type of guy either. I don't have millions as she has. I don't have fame as she has. I'm no sugary sweet for I have actually been so abrasive to the point of being too snob and a slob type of guy yet, she still sees me differently as saccharine? I have done most of the imaginable things that could turn off anyone and yet...

It's flattering to be pursued; even more flattering that the pursuer is someone of name; but I don't know what to take of all this anymore; perhaps it's all about the thrill of pursuit. A friend suggested for me to take the bait, let her have me for a while, and perhaps this way the thrill would be gone; and that by then she could also be gone in a jiffy. Perhaps I would, I could, if I am a straight guy; but the problem is I'm too straight of a gay guy to get my self romantically involve with a woman. It really takes substantive amount of attraction for me to really get romantically involve with anyone, much more to a woman, an older woman at that. How appropriate her signature song could be "sayang...."

Dilemma: The whole workplace is getting buzzed on the supposed romance between us; I'm getting too uncomfortable. I can allow my self to be swallowed in the lie or I could get my self out. Hopefully, things would quietly die down. I don't need to explain my self anyway.

Night and Day...

2007-09-07T10:06:00.000+08:00

I let him be...
the light that shone on yonder night....
As I move on...
I live life both of love and pain...
hopefully to be embraced in the warmth of new day as the sun shines...

Moving in

2007-05-02T10:25:00.000+08:00

Life's been good to me...

A new home to call my own....

May, 2, 2007

Another Postscript to my Coming Out...

2007-04-02T10:38:00.000+08:00

A trip that provided me with a glimpse of life as he lives his own;

and a realization that I too, am already living a life of my own...

Excitement would be an understatement as I prepared and anticipate my trip to the US; excitement for it would be my first time to travel abroad alone, my first time to the US; my first time to really have a vacation in so many years; and beneath my broadcasted reason for the month-long vacation is the anticipated reunion with my best friend, 2 years after that Epilogue.

My trip alone is a story in itself. I spent my first week alone in San Diego to attend a medical convention. I spent my free time walking alone, wandering aimlessly, exploring and simply be an innocent bystander, observing another culture and way of life; it was an experience that I would remember and appreciate more than anything else. On my first night, I found this beautiful spot, a quaint park at the far end of Orange Road in the city of Coronado, overlooking San Diego Bay; and every night for the week that I stayed there, I would quietly spend an hour or two sitting in the wooden bench looking at Downtown San Diego reminiscing on my life and times passed or simply sitting there, contemplating on nothingness as the cool breeze of wind endlessly kissed my cheeks.

view from where I sit

He called the minute he knew I have set foot in the US, checking on me, where I'm at and how I've been doing. He seemed to be incredulous that I was travelling alone, worried on what might be as I wandered on my own in a totally unfamiliar territory; I was just as surprised with how simple and enjoyable my trip has gone so far.

At the end of the week, I flew to San Francisco to have the rest of my three weeks with him as planned, much to the chagrin of several friends who came to know of my (to them) a very much welcome but unexpected arrival. I was expecting him to meet me at the airport but, much to my disappointment, it was his live-in partner who met me, for he's still at work where we briefly met on our way to his home. A room was already reserved for me in his home, his pride, a nice quiet place in the foggy side of Pacifica a short drive from Daly City where he works. I was settling down when lady, one of his friends staying with them, arrived home and as if it was already a laid-out plan, she took me for a ride, giving me my glimpse of San Francisco. Somehow, I have sensed, this would be the tone of my stay as well; his friends, alternating to bring me places; this is typical of him, not really surprising for he always rely on friends to do his bidding for him. Who am I to complain, I have completely left up to him the rest of my itinerary as I had hope he would make one, with him significantly part of it. I was wrong, that was not to be; he's working on a possible promotion and cannot possibly afford to be off work at that point. I was uncomfortable with the set up; I'm not comfortable imposing myself on anyone more so to people I do not personally know.

Nevertheless, I did enjoy myself doing nothing; it was certainly a very much welcome change doing mostly household chores: cooking, cleaning, letting out his dogs, and whatever other chores he asked me to do. I did get to see San Francisco as far as Sta. Cruz and Monterey on one end and Vacaville and Napa Valley on the other end. But I did enjoy more the times I went to downtown San Francisco on my own, commuting by train and bus; wandering on foot in the city, I even got to see Jersey Boys playing in Currant Theater. Again, he was incredulous that I insisted on exploring the city alone.

Living with him for three weeks afforded me time to know him again; which include getting to know his live-in partner and friends; his work and his boss; and his life as he lives it. We never really got the time to be alone together, except at night when we were left alone in the living room drinking as we watched pinoy series on cable; imagine me glued to pinoy telenovelas just so I can spend times with him alone; those were the only times that we were able to catch up on each other's lives. I have observed how untenable his relationship with his live-in partner is and I told him so; he confirmed that indeed theirs is on the verge of breaking up; that his partner already wanted out and that the only thing holding them together is his promise to him to support his schooling until he can make it on his own. Although it's presumptuous of me to make any opinion, I just told him that it does not look healthy for both of them. On the surface it seemed so noble, but the deeper truth is, they're both hurting in the process; for he's already loosing himself as a person; and that I cannot seem to understand on why he seemed to be holding on to a relationship that seemed to be getting nowhere. At the back of my mind, I know the answer, as I know him; he does not want to let go because he's afraid to be alone and for that, I know, he will hold on foolishly. It would be unfair of me to ask him to give up on something that to him is an anchor. It's just so unfortunate that this anchor seemed to be pulling him down to drown.

My three weeks stay with him confirmed my love for him; but I have also come to realization that he is already living a life of his own, just as I am already living a life of my own. And to say again, my love for him is now just a wish for him to find all the happiness in whatever form and whomever he will find it.

"Closing Cycle" Borrowing lines of Paulo Coelho...

2007-01-10T13:42:00.000+08:00

I got this from a thread in one of my yahoogroups, a very appropriate article on my current state; and coming from one of my favorite authors at that....

Closing Cycles

By Paulo Coelho

One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through.

Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished. Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents' house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of sudden?

You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened. You can tell yourself you won't take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister, everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.

None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to understand the things that happen to us. What has passed will not return: we cannot for ever be children, late adolescents, sons that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers who day and night relive an affair with someone who has gone away and has not the least intention of coming back.

Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away. That is why it is so important (however painful it maybe!) to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home.

Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts and getting rid of certain memories also means taking some room for other memories to take their place.

Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them. Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood. Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else. Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the ideal moment. Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back. Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person. Nothing is irreplaceable. A habit is not a need. This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.

Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life. Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust. Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.

A new leaf...

2007-01-01T11:59:00.000+08:00

A new leaf just turned...

T'was a good year; thank God!

I pray, let this be as good as if not better as last...

:)

Certainties...

2006-09-06T09:13:00.000+08:00

Today marks the 1st week that Northman became My North Star…
We have sealed that night with a kiss that I won’t forget for its sweetness and tenderness.

Last night he read this blog; I’m so happy he did, at least he knows where I’m coming from; where I stand now and where I could possibly be heading. Conjectures are offered but just the same my stand remains on here and now. And my here and now is certain of this: I walk and will continue to walk with the person that holds my hand here and now all others are just supposition and shall remain as that, a supposition.

Where am I going now?
I don’t have any definite answer. But one thing certain that I have just come to realize is that, this time it’s not just I but We who shall journey on...

My North Star

2006-08-30T09:03:00.000+08:00

And the night came...

Northman has become my North Star;

My Polaris in this constellation called life...

:)

I wait for the night to come...

2006-08-29T09:19:00.000+08:00

It’s been a week since I started exchanging messages with Northman…
Yesterday, I became bolder and sent him a ‘loaded’ txt message; at least I don’t have any more reasons to chicken out and be mum again next time we meet, and we’re set to meet tonight. I can’t really think clearly now, I actually tossed and turn in bed last night thinking of what I can possibly say; how I will say what I have to say and hopefully really say what I have come to say…

What is it that I have to say… nothing loquaciously eloquent really; just three simple words…

But then the question is; am I rushing? I think my answer remains the same - It will always take an instant for me to love a person...

And so, now I wait for the night to come so I can tell him that...

A night of extreme emotions....

2006-08-28T09:13:00.000+08:00

I slept Friday night with a smile as I look forward to Saturday with much anticipation… Northman (my friends call him that) has agreed for us to come together to a friend’s thanksgiving dinner party who was recently hospitalized for a very serious medical problem. As soon as I got his confirmation it suddenly dawned on me that we would be coming in late to the party and we, coming together would be so obvious for everyone to notice. I panicked and call a friend for help, I was worried for him more; his recent ex could possibly be there as well and he being seen with me would certainly make tongue wagging all over.

Friends have graciously provided a smokescreen as we arrived. I can’t forget the look in their faces as they saw us come in together, good thing there were not so many people we know who could have noticed that sudden plastered smile in their faces. Oh well, I was beaming and ‘glowing’ more as they claimed; yup my excitement level was too high that my head was already swimming; I can’t seem to get the drift most of the conversations I had.

As they said, when you’re up, there’s no other way but down. And crashed down I did as I saw our friend confined to bed. I’m a doctor and I have seen far worse cases than him but still I was not prepared seeing him that way. I can’t really bear myself to look him straight in the eye as I was afraid my eyes would betray the strength and encouragement I was trying so hard to give him. I thought that all the years of clinical practice have already steeled me for this kind of situation. I was dead wrong; I felt so helpless for him. I have only known him recently, but he is really something; he is a very admirable man for he exudes sereneness and composure despite all the pain he is suffering.

It’s been a stormy, extreme swing of emotion for me all in one night. I was sure glad to have friends to have hold and hug me during that night. Company of friends really made a difference to ease what I was feeling that night. As I drove him home I was quiet most of the way; I have lost all the things that I have mentally prepared to say; I just hope he did not sense my discomfort as I was disturbed with our friend’s condition. His brief, but to me seemed to be a lingering touch on my arm as he was about to get off the car was so comforting, enough to accompany me on my not so long drive home.

I have found... lost... and found love again...

2006-08-26T12:45:00.000+08:00

It’s been a while since my last post. I still have to finish my 3rd ulan story…

What have happened since? A lot I would say…
My last post was during the time I went back to my alma mater for my judging chore. I have done some schooling as well, having finished a grueling one-week course in hospital management at AGSB. It was an eye-opening course actually; now I know what to call those things that I have been doing; it was a very good academic exercise to put label into things I have been used to doing, which I know as just simple management guided by common sense. That put me into thinking whether I would still pursue my desire to enroll in an MBA program. At this point, what for? Maybe as an added degree; to make my resume more impressive; and perhaps another career path/option in the future; other than that I really see no other point; coz I’m already doing the things that are supposed to be taught in MBA School.

On the love front, my last post talks as well of my continuing effort to bridge and nurture a continuing friendly relationship with F. I have tried, and still continuing to try; never wanting to burn bridges. I can sense some trepidation on his part; only time will reveal what would really come of it. Have I lost my love for him? I still stand on my previous statement; my love goes beyond the distance of relationship, I have love and that is all that matter.

I have loved again? Or rather I would say that I have found a way to rekindle the passion I feel for a person I met a while back. So let me backtrack: I started playing badminton again April this year, when I joined this Sunday badminton group in Pasig. I saw him, or rather got hooked into him on the second Sunday that I played there; to put it simply, my heart went a flutter the first time my eyes get caught of him; in short I developed this crush on him, his mere presence made me literally dumb, I don’t know why. Super torpe I have been, my friends called and teased me as a matter of fact. Oh well, I have contented myself seeing/glancing from a distance. What can I do, my mind goes blank when I’m in front of him. During the course, I have love and lost and so is he as I came to know.

I really don’t know what came of me, but this week I finally had the courage to send him a txt message, that is almost after 2 weeks of getting hold of his cell number. I sent him what maybe considered a non-sensical message, a very lame excuse just to say hi. I was crushed when he did not reply, at least not immediately. But when he did the exchange continued until the following day. I really do not know where my boldness came from but I did invite him that night for dinner, and gladly he accepted. And so I had a dinner date with him, if that can be called a ‘date’; a friend said if there’s just the two of you, it’s already called a date, fine. I was still tongue-tied most of the time, but at least I got over my ka-torperhan, in a way. All in all it was really a good exercise to demystify and deconstruct my crush in him; a good start to possibly know him on a deeper level. I’m going to see him again later this evening; I hope this time the air would be more relaxed; hopefully we would find comfort and ease in each other to freely share and open up.

Ulan Story No. 2: Teen's Stormy Angst

2006-07-13T18:03:00.000+08:00

I just got home from my judging chore. It's still raining and the wind blowing much harder, a storm just passing; how appropriate to continue with my ulan story number 2.

Ulan Story No. 2: Teen's Stormy Angst

It’s been said that High School will always be considered as the best and most memorable in anyone’s life. I couldn’t agree more. This story happened on my 4th year high school; the last year of my life spent in a minor seminary; yup, I spent a good 4 years of my life in the confine of a seminary.

The year was 1983; the year made memorable because of the political storm that started with the assassination of Ninoy Aquino. Beneath the serene front of the seminary, another form of storm was brewing amongst its restless teen inhabitants; and for me and the rest of my batch mates, (the 4th year graduating class) the year would forever be embedded in our memory as the year the biggest storm in our young lives happened.

The age of puberty is the most interesting part of growing up, for it shapes and molds one’s future. It’s the stage of restlessness, exploration and vulnerability. It was very unfortunate that as we started that school year, we lost 3 of our beloved mentors: Father Rector, Father Prefect of Discipline and Father Confessor who were all given different assignments. It was very unfortunate as well, that they were replaced by two odd priests: Fr. Jack(ass) and Fr. Clementine (may he rest in peace). Fr. Jackass is relatively new; he was just ordained priest the previous year and naturally has no experience at all dealing with a bunch of rowdy kids. Fr. Clementine on the other hand is an old priest, somehow the years have already made him tired, restless and indifferent. Together, they really spell disaster as formators to a bunch of kids who are in the very delicate stage of adolescence.

Everything was still the usual routine as the schoolyear started as expected in a seminary: prayer and study. What happens in between prayer and study especially to a bunch of adolescent boys is a great deal important as well; and having an inexperienced and indifferent formators to handle all of these would really spell disaster for everyone. And everything, I would say really did get out of hand. Every imaginable thing that one would think cannot happen in a minor seminary did happen during those times. It was during that time that I started smoking, including weed/pot; It was there that I got my first taste of wine and alcohol: gin, rum, and what have you to make one really drunk; I have learned to scale wall, escape in town in order to have fun, watch movie, go on dates or simply just gallivant; It was there that I got to be conscious, tolerant and even had my first-hand experience of m2m sexual activities, though in my case never really consummated; We have done so many outrageous, shocking pranks to everyone including our formators; There were so many other things that parents would surely cringe knowing or dare not think that their kids are capable or are actually doing especially in a seminary.

1983 was also marred by one of the biggest typhoons that ever hit the country and the seminary was not spared. And so a day after the storm has passed, and as rain continues to pour, students were sent home. A handful of us volunteered to stay, supposedly to help clean up all the mess; and we really did a very good job cleaning the whole place. I can’t forget that night: it was a cold, wet Saturday night, with only candles for our light, as electric power was still out. It was way past our usual 9:30PM bedtime-light’s out when we decided to start a drinking session. One by one we sneaked into one of the large communal bathroom where we have rolled down a banig in the far end corner of the room. We started drinking a mix of rum and coke conveniently mixed in a big plastic jug, one glass filled half-full doing the rounds for us to drink. Supply of more bottles of rum and gin were stashed under the sink; Cigarettes were conveniently stashed underneath the banig and anyone who wishes to smoke has to stand and blow the smoke thru the open window. We must have been there for less than 30 minutes, as the jug was still halfway full and I was just having my first cigarette when suddenly Fr. Jackass came rushing in; everyone froze, I held my breath as he stopped in front of me and pointing his finger just inches away from my face he shouted “you!!! Of all the people here, akala ko matino ka!” he then proceeded to the center of banig and grabbed the plastic jug; lifted it to his nose and sniffed to smell and in a fit of rage shouted “punyeta” as he threw the jug to the wall with such force that it cracked into several pieces. I can’t recall anymore what other invectives he must have hurled. He left suddenly just as he came and we all just stood there in stunned silence.

I don’t know how we managed to get through the rest of the night, but we did sleep and woke up with the sun shining despite the rain. We must have spent the early part of the morning speculating on who could have possibly squealed on us; how we were found; we even shared a good laugh as one of us mimicked Fr. Jackass’ rage that night. It was mid-morning when we all sheepishly piled into his office and said our apology. He was still in rage, but much more in control of himself. He just dismissed us outright as he has not decided on what to do with us. We went out of the seminary grounds after that and spent almost the whole day wandering in the town’s park by the lake. We were all downhearted and afraid of what might become of us. We returned that afternoon just as the rest of the seminarians were also returning from their home-vacation; the story rapidly spread in a hush tone.

Fr. Jackass did not confront the issue head on as we had expected him. But it was a downward spiral of events after that; he played and caught us in our own game: one by one he was able to catch and punish the smokers, the escapees, and other truants. His biggest catch was when he got wind of the hazing we were conducting as part of the fraternity we have put up; all 24 of us, member of the senior class were actually part of the fraternity. He found a reason to kick us out. Putting up a fraternity or any secret or illegal association/organization is considered one of the mortal sins against the community; anyone involved will surely get the boot as it is considered a betrayal of the community that we belong to and serve.

And so one fateful day in September six members of our class were called into the Rector’s office together with their parents; speculations abound as they never went out of the room the whole morning, until about noon time when the rest of the class was called into the office one by one. As we enter the office and stand before a panel we never knew was there, the Fr. Rector would ask the leader of our group whether we stay in the office or go back to our classroom. We never knew what was going on but apparently it was decided that all those involve in the fraternity are to be kicked out, to be placed in respective town's catholic school. And so as we were called into the office we were told to either stay in there or go back to our classroom; it was only then that we were told of what was to happen.

We cried our hearts out ironically those who were kicked out were the ones left consoling those that are to be left behind; and those of us left behind somehow felt more the bitterness and betrayal for we felt we were denied our chance to prove our worth and loyalty to the group. But that afternoon as we spent our last hours together, everything was settled; we understood what they had to do just as they understood that we are with them all throughout and that we are one solid batch as we have promised ourselves, no matter what. They left that same afternoon; more tears were shed, not just by our batch but by the whole community including our lay teachers who were left clueless and helpless of the whole event.

And so it happened: our class of 24 was cut into half, 12 of us remained and finish our schooling in the confine of the seminary; the other half of the class were scattered into various catholic schools of the diocese, wherever that seminarian resides. Did the event change those left behind to kowtow? Not really, we still continued our mischief, albeit more carefully this time. We never lost touch; we regularly see each other every chance we had. We got reunited as one batch on our graduation day; that was one concession we got, that we will all march and graduate in the seminary grounds as one class.

:)

Next: Ulan Story No. 3: A Walk in the Rain

Ulan Story No. 1: Age of Innocence

2006-07-12T17:56:00.000+08:00

It’s raining very hard outside, and here I am at work wishing I’m someplace else. Oh well, at least the rain just gave me an idea to write about my unforgettable ulan (rain) stories; I have narrowed them down to three most unforgettable ulan stories:

Ulan Story No. 1: Age of Innocence

It’s really a very harmless story that happened when I was in grade school; it really stuck in my mind for it served to remind me of the good times I had in grade school; when somehow, I still have that child’s sense of wonder and innocence.

I was enrolled in one of the 2 public schools in our town; a really small town with population of under 15,000 (that was during the mid-70’s). I remember I started late in my 4th grade class for reason that I didn’t want to attend the class I was initially assigned. I must have already missed about 2 or 3 days of school when I joined this new class; I was traumatized with my previous year’s stay in the honor section as I really felt I was too bobo for that class, so I was really adamant to be transferred (my mother was a teacher in that school so it was not really that impossible.) Anyway, I felt relieved when on the first day that I joined my 4th grade class everyone were so friendly, especially my new seatmate, Eugene.

I’ve heard stories about him; he was one of the cutest in our batch (come to think of it, even at that young age I already know how to appreciate cute guys, just as I appreciate pretty girls); he was named lover boy, a moniker he earned when he was caught smooching with one of the pretty girls of the batch (yup, even at that young age); but I would say compared to the other supposedly cute members of the batch he was fairly down to earth with no trace of air in the head. And so we begun a beautiful friendship sealed by one experience in the rain.

School during those times was considered an extension of one’s home. As such, we took pride and all share a sense of ownership to our classroom. We clean and polish the floors, our desks; cabinets etc; do the decoration and really take care of all the upkeeps of the room and its surrounding. We all have our assignments and we dutifully followed them.

It was just a month from the start of class when Eugene and I got to be responsible for the class’ drinking water supply. Typical of youngster’s resourcefulness, we found a place to get our water without so much the hassle of queuing with the rest of the school. It was just outside the school premises, through the back; the only hitch was that it was a bit tricky getting there; we have to carefully tread a grassy, steep incline that drops to a small creek, then jump from one boulder to another in order to cross and then climb a less steep but bushy incline into the other side where there's a big water faucet located just a short distance from the town’s main water tank. And so that morning that we were to fetch water we decided to still use that track despite knowing that it would be pretty slippery as it has been continuously drizzling. Lugging 2-3 water jugs each in our arms we carefully negotiated the slippery steep descent into the creek. As we were doing so we were happily singing “leron-leron sinta” with lyrics altered to reflect what were doing; fetching water. To make the long story short, midway to our trek I slipped, landed on my butt and skidded down stopping only as I hit a big boulder; this happened just as we were on the part of the song that says “pagdating sa dulo nabali ang sanga…” It was really painful; scary for I almost hit my head in the boulder; and much more, embarrassing for I have a big wet, soiled spot in my short; but we both had a good laugh and even continued singing loudly this time as he helped me clean up all the soil in my short. That has been our secret, I never asked him not to tell; but nevertheless he never did tell anyone. It has become our private joke and we really became close and inseparable after that. I will always remember how we would usually walk all the way home from school side by side with our arms in each other’s shoulders, whistling or singing whatever tune we would fancy.

I would say that, that was the only time that I really enjoyed going to school, I felt so at ease with no worries; I felt no pressure to excel academically. We really had fun; he was my very first best friend, enjoying, sharing: We shared food and even had this odd habit of putting garlic-spiced vinegar to our rice porridge. We shared secrets, crushes and dreams; we would always sneak out during noon time looking for an open radio to listen to the day’s episode of the adventure of Zimatar (a popular radio program during the 70’s); we were together when we sneaked and ogled at the legs, panties and boobs of some movie starlet swimming in the town’s only swimming pool during breaks of their movie shoot; we attended our first supposedly children’s birthday party, but picture this: children’s party with no balloons, clowns and party hats; we actually dressed like adults; pants and long-sleeved shirt with us boys in our pomade-combed hair; sipping a mildly gin-spiked juice; having truth or dare for parlor game with kiss as the constant dare; dancing the then popular el-bimbo and sweet dancing with our pretty crushes and classmates. I even had my first kiss with him; as I mentioned he had a moniker of being a lover boy as he was once caught smooching with a girl, and silly me I innocently asked him how was it like, how did he do it and all that innocent curiosity stuff and so he showed me and gave me my first kiss, just a quick peck in the lips actually, but it was so sweet. Mind you, those were done without any form of malice; but rather all part of child’s exploration and curiosity. We did so many other stuffs together.

Unfortunately, I lost him after that school year. They are relatively well off; they own one of the bigger houses in town, his parents were traders of rice and their family own tracts of land, but threat to their lives forced them to leave town; I never really got to know the details; they left as soon as the school year ended and I never heard from him since. We promised to keep in touch, but that was '70s; what resources are available to a 10-year old kid back then to really keep that promise? But I will always remember my grade school years for the fun that I had shared with him, my best friend during that time.

Next: Ulan Story No. 2: Teen’s stormy Angst

:)

Home is?!

2006-07-08T10:58:00.000+08:00

The newspaper headline story this morning talks about the capture of rebel soldiers in a house somewhere in a village where I live. Hey, the house in the accompanying photo looks familiar; I’ve been there, I know the owner of that house. Wow! It hits me I live in a neighborhood where I don’t really know much what is happening. It was like the time just a couple of months ago when my nephew had to point out to me one of the teen contestants in a reality TV show as the kid next door who sometimes took afternoon nap in my bed whenever they use the TV in my room for their video games.

Home is said to be the place where one lives; to me it has become nothing more but just a place to sleep and occasionally have meals. In fact I’ve never really known any of our neighbors for the almost 10 years that I’ve been living there; heck I don’t even know the rest of the village aside from the street where the house I’m supposed to be living in is located.

What has become of me? Here I am, at work even on a Saturday. Oh well, it's a fact I really don’t have any day-off coz I’m on-call anytime of the day, 24/7. Work has become my home so to speak; it's a way of life. People sometimes tell me to get a life, but this is my life. It may be difficult, tiring and consuming but still this is the life I choose and I’m living it. There might be some trade-off for this kind of life but that is a fact of life I have to accept. As I said, I’m happy doing what I’m doing otherwise I wouldn’t be living what I’m doing.

... or am I just trying to convince my self? I hope not.
:)

Musing II: Fallacy: Being Gay is a Choice

2006-07-07T08:56:00.000+08:00

Whoever said homosexuality is a choice must be out of his mind, for how can anyone ever choose a life that is different, a life full of uncertainties, a life that is lonely at times because of all the suffering and pain one has to endure because of the connotation of the label.

It is certainly not a choice; it is the very essence of a man.

Why people persist on seeing this as a choice is no mystery; for it serves to satisfy and protect the righteousness of ethics and conduct; the law of morals and logic dictates that no one has the right to put in question the essence of a person; but it is just, proper and right to measure one’s choices within the justice of common morals and standards.

I say it is not a choice I made; my being gay is the essence of my being and as such I don’t have to explain my existence; I have the right to demand respect for my being, just as I respect everyone else’s existence.
:)

my friendly date...

2006-07-06T10:07:00.000+08:00

This is just to put to rest the pestering request for account of my friendly date with my Friend. We were supposed to see Superman at I-max, unfortunately and fortunately there were no more tickets available for the day’s screening. And so we just spent the next one and a half hour or so waiting for our number to be called as we queued for our advance ticket booking. We had dinner afterwards and just walked around the mall the rest of the night. So that was how the supposedly friendly date went.

We talked mostly to catch up on things we have left off since the last time we saw each other. We did not talk about “us” or whatever happened to us. There was no mention or question whether either of us is seeing someone new; I just presumed he’s not seeing anyone and as everyone knows I’m not either. Was there any awkward moments? Probably on the initial part: I had mixed feeling of nervousness and excitement as I was driving to our usual meeting place. I picked him up at the usual spot and as he walked towards the car, I just stared at him walk as I realized how much I have missed him; I really got so nervous that as he settle down in the car I can’t really bear myself to look him in the eye. But as we drove on, and as minutes and hours passed everything settled down and I became more at ease. I can’t speak for him but I can sense he was nervous as hell too. He’s okay; he looks happy and contented; he looked good actually; he’s basically the same Friend as I have known him.

It was not a painful experience as some may have imagined it to be. All throughout, and I don’t want to be called a hypocrite and so i'm saying this: yes, I really wished I could have hold and kissed him again; but it's not to be. It’s not like I’m foolishly holding on, but I was and am surely glad we have remained friends. Do I still love him? There’s really no need to ask; as I said my love goes beyond relationship. Am I prepared to see him with someone else? Painfully difficult it may be, but yes; I’ll say it again as I have said this to my best friend, my love wishes him all the happiness in whomever and whatever form he may find it.
:)

Musing: Of love & Relationships

2006-07-05T07:40:00.000+08:00

!? Love goes beyond relationship...
but can relationship go beyond breakup?!

I say...
Love and relationships are entirely two different things; and here’s my not so very simplistic take on this...
Although love cannot be truly defined in just one dimension, one important aspect I always believe love should be is that, it's a commitment to accept a person wholly, complete with faults, warts and all.
Relationship on the other hand is a promise of commitment that can be sealed in a paper of marriage or contract but oftentimes can only be sealed by a very arbitrary point of mutual trust and understanding.
In a way taking this simplistic view, one can surmise that love encompasses to go beyond relationship; and ironic as it may seem, the arbitrariness of trust and understanding can take a relationship even the distance of a breakup.

What say you?!
:)

a simon cowell-wannabe?!? nahhh...

2006-07-04T09:30:00.000+08:00

I got invited to be one of the judges in a research paper presentation of residents-in training of my alma mater. I was not actually invited; I was recommended by a friend to do my part for alma mater as he did a year ago. I was hesitant to accept as I certainly do not have any claim of expertise in doing research work much more any mastery in evaluating or grading research papers; my only experience in this area was the requisite research papers I have churned out as part of my residency and fellowship-training back then. Oh well, my excitement gets the better part of me; the anticipation to see my old school certainly overshadowed my fear of lack of competence that I innocently agreed.

Imagine now my horror upon receiving the 7 research papers I have to read and grade. It’s not that I don’t have the patience to read and evaluate them; but scanning through them all, I shiver at the thought that I would have to pass comments and make judgment to a bunch of papers that I don’t think can really pass the grade. The tricky part I think is not choosing the best but choosing which is the least worst among the lot. And the difficulty and somewhat irony of it all is that I, who has no real competence to speak of have to make that judgment, oh well at least I’m just one of the three. But still, it’s going to be one big dilemma on how I would have to do it. Now, I really have to go back and read on my biostatistics and some other research paper-writing books and manuals so that I can at least give a semblance of competence to my comments and judgment.

I’m no Simon Cowell-wannabe; even before Simon Cowell came, friends have already known me for my acerbic commentaries, mincing no words that they actually look for me for a dose of reality check as I usually give fearless and unclouded view of things at hand.
Oh well, let’s see if I can hack it and still get invited after this.
Hahaha…

thought from last night....

2006-07-03T15:48:00.000+08:00

The heart of a gay man has been jaded so many times that when confronted with the purity of love, that heart would surely balk at the very idea of it ever happening; terrified of knowing, understanding and accepting the possibilities of it ever happening; and in the process actually perpetuates the cycle of fear and hurt...
:)

"Carry Ko yan"

2006-07-01T09:50:00.000+08:00

I had my usual Friday afternoon tête-à-tête with a friend at the cafeteria. The usual chit chats segue into my not so new highlighted golden brown hair. In fact I had to point it out for him to notice the first time he saw me with that new look. Again, he complimented me for looking good in it and we both had a good laugh as I recounted to him how all of a sudden I had no compunction having it done, including the comedic situation of having it actually done. I was ribbing him that perhaps he might want to have his hair dyed as well and during the course he blurted out “hindi ko carry yan” which he immediately corrected as soon as it came out of his mouth, but too late whatever is said is done and cannot be undone. Obviously a slip of the tongue. But nah! I did not pounce on him. I nonchalantly ignored it as a non-issue in deference to his obviously discomfort’s use of the word. Innocent words it may seem, but the words became just so obvious because he immediately corrected himself, a self-censure to disguise what may seem to be an obvious knowledge and use of the gay lingo, at least as I assumed it to be. Was it really a part of gay lingo that he had to immediately correct himself for that? Oh well, for those people in the know it’s a blip-blip, a ching, a bell ringing, a red-flag up that can be easily picked up by a well honed and synced gaydar. But how sharp is my gaydar anyway? It probably needs a lot of sharpening and a lot of tuning coz it obviously is so slow in picking up signal, or is it?

I have known him for close to 10 years already. We go back to our residency-training as batch mates. There were 12 of us in our batch, a pretty close-knit group and through the years we’ve sort of became close as one by one we lost our barkadas to married-family life until there were just 4 of us remaining single. We used to go out a lot sharing the same passion for movies. We even had moviethon on days we don’t want to miss good movies. I must admit I had a huge crush on him way back then, probably fed by voyeuristic opportunity of seeing his yummy ass as he get dressed in the morning during our duty days. I even did something crazy just so I can continue seeing him, but that's another story hahaha...) Somehow that crush fizzled out somewhere I just don’t know when it happened. I now consider him as a good friend, one of the closest friend I have at this profession.

Every now and then my gaydar would pick up something; I just can’t rely if they’re actually tuned and in sync right. So here are some of the ching my gaydar has picked up from him:

1. He’s still single at this age. I have not actually known him pursued any girl on his own. I know he has dated a couple of girls that were actually set up by well-meaning friends. Nothing really came out of it as he has the same lame excuse every time: busy with work that schedule won’t match, not up to standard, etc.

2. A self-confessed Barbara Streisand fan. Oh well, one of the cliché that if you dig Barbara Streisand you must be gay. Or in the local scene - Regine Velasquez. (I don’t know why)

3. He is knowledgeable or at least has seen and/or interested to watch gay-themed and not so obviously gay-themed movies and has actually enjoyed those kind of films.

4. His knowledge or at least occasional slip of the tongue use of gay lingo.

5. He has a “friend” and “business partner” for about 3 years now. In quotation mark because I sense they're more than just “friend” and “business partner.”

Well, those are the things that my rusty gaydar picks up. I just don’t know if it's picking up right. And until I see more proof in the pudding all I can say is “carry ko yan.”

What random thoughts? baka flights of ideas (baliw?!)

2006-06-27T11:30:00.000+08:00

I've lost the drive to write…
(e bakit naman kasi kelangan ng drive to write)
so 'e ano ngayon?!

as if naman nobe-nobela ang mga sinusulat ko...
as if naman may nagiintay ng isinusulat
as if naman me nagbabasa nito
as if naman my katuturan ang lahat ng 'ito
as if naman magugunaw ang mundo kung di ako magsulat...
as if naman... as if?!

What else can I write about?

... my life? e boring nga e?!
... my love? e asan na nga ba?!
... my past? e past na nga e!
... politics? e peste na nga makikiletse pa ba?!
... religion? wow!!! baka ma-excom na 'ko?!
... sex?! waaa tigang nga e; tsaka ang sex nilalasap di binabasa
... work? hmmmm... isama pa daw ba ang work sa kagaguhan?
... fiction? e saan ko naman pupulutin ang imagination?!

hay naku... Why do I write anyway?
I write because...

I’m inspired (inspirasyon? ano na nga ba?! e sa nawala na nga e)
I’m down (oh well, angst do feed one’s imagination)
I’m piqued of something, of someone…(di naman ako galit sa mundo)
I’m told to write? hmmmm... am i hearing voices?!

baliw na nga yata ako... Ah basta...
(seryosohin ba?!)
:)

Senti sa Bora June '06

2006-06-20T19:31:00.000+08:00

Melancholy is the humble heart that knows what life is...

Discerning challenges thrown as simple measure of it.

Accepting that as much as jubilation is the spirit that transfigure;

So must tribulation be embraced as well as part of transformation

For the heart knows that glum is not just wanting in joy, but whence contentment can also come

pj
june '06

Mission Notes: Tuli or Not Tuli....

2006-06-16T17:08:00.000+08:00

Circumcision has been a staple part of our medical-surgical mission held every summer time in the province of aklan. It has been a common sight to see long line of pubertal boys of all shapes and sizes, waiting for their turn to be cut. This has been considered a summer ritual in almost every part of the Philippines. I was even asked to write something about it about 3 years ago, sadly, I did not even get a thank you note for this. I remember this article as one of the 'cutters' commented on how well endowed these boys of aklan are. And just like in a baber shop, most of the times these comments lead to small discourse and here is my take on this...

Tuli or Not Tuli
Myths & Facts of Circumcision

The practice of circumcision has been in existence for more than 6000 years dating back to the snake worship in ancient Egypt, much like the snake shedding off its skin emerging shiny and new again; and so has man by cutting the foreskin has taken this as a sign of rebirth.

Through the years the practice has remained the same – the surgical removal of the sleeve of skin and mucosal tissue that normally covers the glans (head) of the penis. This double layer also called the prepuce is more commonly known as the foreskin. But through the years what has differed is the connotation attached to this practice; Religious – Judaism, Islam and Christian as part of religious rite and as a form of covenant; Moral – especially during the Victorian era when it was used as a deterrent for masturbation with the notion that it reduces sexual sensitivity compounded by the salutary effect of pain on the mind especially if it is associated with the idea of punishment; and during the last century its intent for medical and hygienic purposes.

In the Philippines, circumcision has traditionally been a rite of passage for adolescent boys. A tradition embellished with myths and association with the development of secondary sexual characteristics like growth in height, penile length and sexual prowess to name just a few. Familial and peer pressure plays a dominant role in this tradition. And this supposedly a pure male thing is further reinforced by the female population’s own belief in myths about circumcised men and its association with machismo. In this age of evidence-based medicine, this can arguably be called a needless hangover of Victorian era mindset.

Some of the medical benefits offered for its continued practice include reduction in the risk of childhood urinary tract infection, reduction in the risk of sexually transmitted diseases and HIV; and reduction in the risk of penile cancer as well as cervical cancer for the female sexual partner. All of these risk reduction benefits were all attributed to the notion that a circumcised penis is cleaner and more hygienic. However, historical and scientific data does not clearly support these supposedly medical benefits. This prompted the American Academy of Pediatrician to issue a policy statement “potential benefit of infant circumcision aren’t significant enough and therefore not recommended as a routine procedure.”

Debunking the myths starts with proper education supported by clear medical evidence that point’s circumcision does not improve male hygiene. In most of the western world this practice has already been discarded. In the US particularly, the practice has gone down to less than 60% starting in the 1990’s compared to as high as more than 90% during the early 1900’s. In the Philippines, tradition clearly plays a much bigger role than scientific evidence, that it would be an oddity to encounter uncircumcised men.

There is no clear medical evidence that would point to the readiness of a child to undergo circumcision. This is a rite of passage, a tradition that every Filipino male adolescent must undergo. Scientific evidence have already shown that there is no clear medical benefits and the only indication for its continued use is the presence of a medical condition called phimosis, which is the continued adherence of the foreskin to the glans of penis well beyond the adolescent years. Full retraction of the foreskin, completely exposing the glans, should not be taken as a sign of readiness. More than anything else the psychological maturity of the child should be the gauge of his readiness. On the average this has been set at 10-15 years of age, the early stage of adolescence, when the unpleasant experience would not cause much psychological harm. Nonetheless, the decision to undergo the procedure must come from the boy himself, an important decision on his part that may signify the degree of his rationalization and the level of maturity he has achieved. Although, this is not really completely true and acceptable, for possibly how can submitting to peer pressure and tradition resolve the inner conflicts and changes that an adolescent child faces at this stage. Experts would point out that this is the important stage of a child’s psychological development where adjustments takes place and the period when a child redefines his individuality and his complex relationships with people around him.

Supporting the child’s decision is an important part a parent can do to participate. Traditional or “pukpok” type of circumcision has largely been replaced with more modern and sterile method. The use of local anesthesia to eliminate the pain of the procedure has greatly reduced the trauma associated with the procedure. These have also resulted in largely reducing the possible complications that may arise which includes, hemorrhage and infection, the two most important. Suturing the cut edges of the foreskin or the use of electrocautery are some of the modern methods employed to control bleeding. This has largely replaced the traditional way of bleeding-control by having the boy jumps to the river right after the circumcision, the desired effect of which is the constricting effect of the cold water on the blood vessels and thereby stopping the bleeding. The sterility of the procedure performed in a hospital or clinic obviates the need for soaking or cleaning the wound with boiled guava leaves, which has been largely used for its antimicrobial property, although the unsanitary preparation of this concoction leads to more frequent infection most of the times. A 3-5 day course of broad-spectrum antibiotic is also employed to reduce the risk of infection, although this is rarely necessary if the procedure has been strictly performed under a sterile condition The other rarely seen complications include, incorrect removal of tissue resulting to disfigurement of the penis (either bowed/curved during erection); cyst, lymphedema, fistula and necrosis. Post-operative pain control can usually be achieved with administration of analgesic, paracetamol given every 4-6 hours.

Post-circumcision wound care, just like any other wound care includes cleaning with antiseptic solution like betadine and application of new sterile dressing once it becomes soiled with urine or soaked with dirt and perspiration. The use of vaselinized gauze is sometimes preferred in order to prevent the adhesion of raw wound/skin to the gauze; otherwise removal and changing of the dressing would be a very painful and difficult exercise. Bath is usually advised after 24-48 hours and daily bath with soap and water is sufficient for daily hygiene once the wound starts to dry up. Healing usually takes 7-14 days, although this could sometimes extend to 4-6 weeks if there were significant inflammation or hematoma formation. Loose fitting trousers are to be worn, not just to prevent the wound coming in contact with the clothing material but also more for the sensitive thin skin of the unprotected/uncovered glans now directly exposed and in constant contact with the clothing material. This would eventually make the skin of glans, cornified in essence a thickened and less sensitive skin, an adoptive response to the now exposed glans penis.

Arguments can be raised here and now. But it would certainly take several more lifetime before circumcision becomes just a matter of choice for Filipino men. Until such time, tuli or not tuli is not yet an appropriate question to ask a Filipino man, for needless tradition still dictates it has to be tuli.

May '04

Postscript from last night...

2006-06-14T17:00:00.000+08:00

Yes my dear F, what we had is real. A short-lived affair as it may have been. I thank you for the moments’ shared; for the joy of sharing and basking immensely; and for the courage, honesty and sincerity to face up to the reality of the moment.

I truly admire your courage when you speak of your worries and uncertainty to truly give yourself; but I say to you: there’s no measure for the immensity of what you have already given me: the chance to give myself freely and sincerely. A measure that I always thought I was not capable, for I have always thought of myself as too selfish, incapable of truly committing and giving myself to anyone. This realization has redeemed me. And for this reason alone I hold no rancor but have actually grown more respect and admiration for you.

I hold you dear and will always love you for the person that you are and for the person that I have become because of you. I’ll be here as a friend, always.

Sincerely,
pj

Out to be discovered: it's just another way

2006-06-12T14:06:00.000+08:00

I have recounted this story almost the same time or shortly after “my coming out” story. I just had to rehash this for the reason that I was recently confronted by the reality of being discovered again recently.

And to you my friend for discovering my world, hum the song “Vincent” as you read on….

Out to be discovered: this has been my attitude. There’s no need to hide or make up story for the web of confusion and lies will eventually caught up to tie me down and even raze my being. I have come to this realization when confronted with the realizaty that I have been discovered.

It is difficult to come out, considering all the demons one has to wrestle with; there are people involve: it’s not just the one who is coming out but equally important are the people on the receiving end. The bigger issue is not so much on the approval or acceptance but rather on the realization that the receiver has to face the fact as well. It is the very process itself of being confronted with the reality.

“They know that I know that they know” a very superficial presumption that I have always held in belief when dealing with family and friends. I don’t want to be complacent to think that my family and friends are so naive not to know or even notice. Part of my assumption is that they too, don't know how to open up, how to come out, ask and say it loud. It just so happen that circumstances most of the times put the burden on the giver to initiate the process. I have experienced that in the not too recent past to one of my high school friends, a close knit circle of friends I have always considered part of my extended family.

How did this happen? In one of our usual get-together one of them sidled up to me and started a conversation, opening with the usual and almost nauseating line of 'kelan ka mag-aasawa?' I could sense where he's leading, but more blah, blah, blah... almost stretching to more than an hour of more blah, blah, blah… He was actually more nervous and anxious than I was the whole time that he downed several bottles of beer while I just had one. I wanted to remain sober and in control for the eventuality, if ever this will lead to the inevitable.
Finally he said “I know that you know that I know…”
I replied simply “I know that you know that I know what?”
Unlike in a shoot out, no one wanted draw and shoot first, so blah, blah, blah... and more blah, blah, blah... finally he got the courage to say “c'mon, you can tell me...”
I said “tell what?” still feigning innocence/ignorance and this goes on for another half hour or so and I was actually enjoying every minute of it; seeing him so discomfited, uncomfortable...
Finally, I have to back down and help him out. I said “you know what? Ask me directly the question and I'll give it to you straight; the deal is, I won't give you a straight answer unless you have the courage to ask me directly the very question you've been dying to ask.”
He must have downed another bottle or 2 of beer and I literally have to coax him to blurt out the question before he finally said, not so much as a question but rather more of a statement “are you gay?”
I answered without hesitation “yes.”
It was just a short silence after that, and then we both heaved a sigh of relief and really had a good laugh, that some of our friends in the other table stopped their own discourse and looked at us. I really don't know if they had actually heard any of our conversation and I don't really care if they had come to know as well. I told him he was the only one I have told this for the simple reason that he was the only one who had the courage to seriously ask. If any of my friends and family would dare ask me the same question, I wouldn't hesitate to tell them the truth, otherwise I don't feel any obligation to proclaim to the whole world, who I am.

pj
june '06

Thought for today...

2006-06-08T13:43:00.000+08:00

... never be discouraged, for challenges spring forth transformation

embracing triumphs and tribulations...

:)

Fear and happiness

2006-06-07T15:00:00.000+08:00

"... There is no reason to feel proud or to feel guilty.
There are only reasons to feel happy."

Truly, there are only reasons to feel happy:

even with the scary thought of tomorrow,
for happiness has brought me today from yesterday;

even with the fear of what choices bring,
for happiness dwell in the choices made;

even with the dread of sense coming true,
for happiness soars from all desires fulfilled;

even with the horror of pain foretold;
for happiness is born out of suffering;

even with the foreboding realization of tomorrow
for happiness lies in the truth revealed today...

Truly, there are only reasons to feel happy;
As I am truly Happy...

(:

I'm a Macho Dancer (MD).... nyahahaha i wish

2006-06-06T09:22:00.000+08:00

I’m a Macho Dancer (nyahahaha… I wish)
(A true story fictionalized)

I’m a Macho Dancer (MD) by profession but in the last three years my dancing skills has been relegated to the sideline, as I do more administrative function as assistant floor manager in the newest club in town. In fact, I’ll be celebrating my 3rd year anniversary as assistant floor manager in a couple of week’s time. Not so many people covet this job; what with the hassle of dealing both with the customers and the other dancers, not to mention getting myself involve as well in the other nitty-gritty part of the club operation. Others envy my position as I’m a step closer to being the floor manager, an enviable position of power in the club to say the least.

How did I end up in this job anyway? My only claim to fame was when I was once hailed as “king of the ramp” a title I got as chief MD when I was still a struggling dancer in another club. I was sort of pirated when this new club opened its door in 2002. I’m a hard worker, though my specialty is lap-dancing, I sort of multi-tasked and perform all kinds of dance and routines during the initial stage of this club. The owners and the previous manager must have seen my perseverance and potential that soon I was rising thru the ranks until I got to this present position. It was a hard climb. A lot of people were wondering why I would accept this kind of job when I’m not even at the prime of my dancing career. They said I should just concentrate as an MD as I still have to learn a lot in the art of macho dancing and that certainly I can earn more, given that I’m young, nubile and can actually juggle to dance and do other tricks in other clubs.

Customers can also be possessive as offers to dance exclusively, even to the point of being a kept man has come my way; that was the power of the charm I weave with every dance I make. I have been a macho dancer for 10 years already, but the bigger part of those years I have spent perfecting my craft as a dutiful student of lap-dancing, learning and perfecting all the twists, turns and weaving magical movements in unison with the music. That is my dedication; for what I always have in mind is to take into heart the art of my profession which is to create magic and bring each customer to illusion of orgasmic proportion. All my hard work recently bear fruition when I recently got recognition from my mentors through a resounding applause and standing ovation in one of the dances I have recently perfected. That was a sweet joy to be recognized by your mentor as an equal and not as student anymore. But that is the caveat that I wouldn’t want not to remember, that as an MD I’ll forever be a student who has to continuously learn and explore new things how to weave that magic and charm; for I know in the heart of my heart that the time I stop on learning would have to be the time that I have to retire my dancing boots.

That is my work, my profession. I do things because I love doing it and I’ll keep on doing it because I find happiness in it; and happiness is all that matter in this journey of life.

june 6

Epilogue to "My Coming Out"

2006-06-05T09:47:00.000+08:00

Epilogue to my Coming Out

“My Coming Out” has been a major turning point. I have come to terms with my self; my own self-acceptance more than anything else. What happened since then? What did I really want to achieve and what have I realized with that coming out? These are the questions I’d like to probe as I retrace back the 2 years since.

Communication did not stop after the “matagal ko ng alam yun” conversation. Life continued as it was albeit more openly. We did not probe deeper into our revelations just as no regret was ever expressed over what could have been. He reconciled with his guy and I continued my own search. He came home for vacation more than a year after that revelation. I anticipated his homecoming with mixed feeling of nervousness and excitement. Excitement, for we’ll be seeing each other after five long years. Nervousness for despite the conversations we had over the phone and in the net, each other’s comfort would still need to be realized when we come face to face.

I arrived at the airport just in time as he was walking out of the arrival area gate. He looked just the same, except for some excess baggage in the belly. The initial meeting was a bit uneasy: I didn’t know whether to hug him or not; in the end we just gave each other a firm handshake and a pat in the back. The morning sun was just up; the clime was just fine and right; everything looks perfectly fine that is until he starts complaining how humid it was, how expensive the breakfast we had, how heavier I looked since he last saw me; how pathetically boring I was… Oh well, everything was indeed alright, we’re back to our brutal banters, so typical of us, our own carino brutal. We spent the rest of the day running errands mostly. We never had a chance to really spend time together; we initially planned to have an out of town trip but I have work to do and he felt compelled to do the errands for his elder sister and brother who also came home a week apart of each other. We just contented seeing each other doing groceries, running errands and having dinner here and there. We even had a spat one time: we were supposed to meet in a mall for dinner, I came a bit late and had mixed up instructions on where to meet that we ended up not meeting at all; he just walked out and I let him. We did not speak to each other for a day; we just continued as if nothing happened when he texted me to pick him up to go to mass and have dinner the following day. So typical of us, no one ever said sorry for anything and it was just a few days before he leaves. I absent myself from work on the day he was to leave. We did some last minute errands and shopping. We said our sorry on our way to the airport; that is before a litany of lament: him to me for not making time, not planning on my leaves to be with him; me to him for announcing to everyone of his coming that everyone seemed to have taken advantage of, leaving him no time really but to do errands. Our promise: next time I’ll file my leaves ahead of time and he’s not to tell anyone he’s going home, so he can really have a vacation. We briefly hugged as I left him at the airport. We still keep in touch, now sharing more openly each other’s pains and triumph. He still lives with his guy and I have done another “stupid me” and have met my current and hopefully lasting muse of reflections. We have remained the best of friends more than ever.

Letting go it seemed was what I was about to do when I decided to come clean to him. Looking back it really seemed to be a very big risk, the risk of possibly loosing our friendship. Besides, it has always been at the back of my mind that I can never really love another person, to be straightforward, refuse to truly love another person because of him; that loving another person would be tantamount to betrayal of my love for him. This reasoning has always held me back in my previous attempt at relationships; I have always reserved a part of me for him, in case he does feel the same way and reciprocate. And that the only way for me to move on is to confront and risk everything that I have always considered so dear to me. My point was that, if ever he would not reciprocate, then that would give me the reason to move on and possibly find love in another person. However, looking back this has not been the end of it all. I realized that coming out to him was not really an act of ‘letting go’ but merely an act of redeeming the part of our friendship that has been cast in doubt. It has freed me from my own, self-imposed shackle of emotional blackmail; that loving another person would never be a betrayal on my part; and that in fact, refusing to truly love another person would be more of a betrayal of my being as a person. I have come to realize that yes; I am perfectly capable of loving another person. But that another person must also come to realize and accept the whole of me; accept that I have loved him and will always love him because he has become a part of me, he is a part of what I have become… who I am now. I have proven it when I let my self become so stupid because of A. And that realization became even more evident when I met F: it is only now that I realized that I have to borrow will’s word “freed myself from the world of unexpressed emotions…” when I no longer hold back and have in fact allowed myself to be so immersed and truly give what I have, sincerely.

pj
June 5, 2006)

On second thought... reposting: "my coming out"

2006-06-03T16:13:00.000+08:00

Today, I have just revised my blog, removed “stupid me” but then I realized, the first “stupid me” was really an essential part of the journey I’m taking now; that was my coming out story that gave me all these current realization…

It has also served as impetus to others. When I initially posted it (August 2004) in one of the yahoo groups, I received a lot of inspiring comments, a couple of them thanking me, for the story served as their own impetus…

And so I’m reposting the first “stupid me” re-titled “my coming out…” I have included some of the comments; including one particular letter…

MY COMING OUT....

I have a best friend for a little more than 15 years now. Our friendship dates back when we were classmates in college, back in the mid to late 80s. We did not actually hit it off right the first time. He was with his own set of barkadas already and I was just a new transferee in the school. My first impression of him was he was mayabang in all sense of the word, including his circle of friends who are loud and territorial with him obviously as their center attraction. I can’t recall anymore what happened next, but we eventually gravitated towards each other. We became close that his friends begun saying nasty remarks about me. They never got what they wanted; he stuck it out with me. When finally they realized they would not have it their way, they grudgingly accepted me to their group and I did the same. We were one happy class after that; with his good looks and charm, he was always the center of attention; and I was always at his side the nerdy and mataray one, having stamped my own presence in the class. We were quiet a pair, perfect example of opposite attracts. We were inseparable during those times, at school and even off school.

Things changed after graduation when we had to go on separately. We both wanted the same career path; unfortunately he never got the grade to make it. I wanted to stop then, but he pushed me to go on. He pursued another course while I went on with my own. Communication was reduced to telephone calls and occasional hang out at the mall for dinner and movie. This eventually led to tampuhan over something I can’t even recall now. The wall was only broken when he called to invite me on his oath taking after he passed the board exam. Just like in old times, I volunteered to help him prepare his dinner celebration. Well, that was his faith in me to whip out edible, delectable dishes. During the night when most of his guests were already leaving and while I was checking the food, he hugged me from behind, kissed me in the cheek and whispered “I love you my friend and thanks for everything.” Actually he said that after rambling and mumbling some other things about the food and his guests. I jokingly replied, “Yeah, you’re just too drunk.” He nodded, quickly retreated and went on to see some more of his guests off. That was enough for me. I’ll never forget that instance; one rare moment he openly expressed his care, for he is one guy who instantly recoils at the very first instance of mushiness.

That day started us going on again. He started working, and I became busy again with my training, that we lost track of each other save for occasional telephone conversations and seeing each other on special occasions. We eventually lost track of each other for a year or two until the week before he was to leave for work abroad. He called to say he was leaving and left me with some of his things. Internet was not yet so popular back then that our communication was through postal mail once a month. I would keep him bored with my toxic life here, but never had the guts to tell him on my “other” escapades; he would always tell me how proud he was of me every time I complained of all the hardships I had to go through. He traveled a lot on his vacation leaves but made sure to come home at least once a year for the three or four years that he worked overseas. Every time he came home he would make sure I know of the exact date and that a week had gone by before he announced to his other friends that he’s home. Though he would grumble that I had no time for him, (I was still in training back then); he would patiently wait for me to finish my work before he bugs me to rush home for dinner he prepared or any take out that I bought. For the most part, we would just spend time watching movies or downing booze in the bars, pouring his heart out, his frustrations and his plans and dreams he would want to accomplish. In it, there would always be some part for me; and every time I would just laugh it off, dismiss it without saying a word.

The last time he was home was during the middle of “EDSA dos.” He was heartbroken: He came home supposedly to marry his girlfriend. He came complete with an expensive wedding ring. I was to stand as his best man. They never got married coz the girl’s family does not want him and even looked down upon him. She did not want to be disowned by her family, so she compromised to postpone the wedding until her family can learn to accept him. Sensing the girl would not even fight for him, he broke it off altogether. I was caught in the middle; the girl would constantly call on me. First hand, she told me how much she did not like me (though we’ve met only once); that she felt insecure with all the things she got to know about me through him, that she cannot compete with me for his trust, but that she had no choice but get to me if she wanted him back. In all my katarayan I told her ‘yeah, I know him better than you do; we’ve been friends for so long and you only came when, the last 2-3 years?” Nevertheless, I promised her I’d try my best to patch things up. I did, but I can only give my own perspective; I never pushed anyone to do things that one cannot accept and decide on their own. So he went back to work without anything clear. After 6 months he moved to US when he got his working visa. He would constantly call me to check on her: to pass on a message, to give her his number and vice versa. All of these I did dutifully, at some point it stopped, maybe due to exasperation or they must have seen its futility.

He would still constantly call and send e-mail messages (thank god, he finally learned how to use the internet). Messages became peppered with ‘miss you,’ ‘love you’ and ‘love you more.’ I started it and it seemed perfectly okay with him so it was a non-issue at all. He’s been bugging me to come visit him since he can’t go home until he has his green card. If I had the time and money, I would have done so, a long time ago. He always jokingly says that I have to save up and get my own place so he can come home for good and just stay with me as his alalay; that I have to make it good so I can take care of him. He always took care of me when we were still studying. I was always tempted to say something to ride on his joke, if it was indeed just a joke but, as always, I never said a word.

He never failed to call on special occasions, I even commented on his perfect timing for he would also call during the times that I have problems or when I’m down. So that when he failed to call on my last birthday, I e-mailed him how he could have forgotten, not even a card this time, which he usually sends weeks in advance. He still did not call, but replied thru e-mail that he did not forget, he was sorry but he was just so depressed over loosing someone, he just broke off with a guy. A guy? I was shocked, nah, more of surprised; not that I didn’t know or was completely clueless, but this was the first time he broke the barrier of our assumption; the ‘I know that you know that I know’ kind of assumption. Never have we discussed openly this part of our lives, it was always implied, or so I thought; none of us had the courage to say it openly until now. I didn’t know how to respond, so I nonchalantly e-mailed back okay and gave him my spiel on love and relationship. That relationship takes more than love to hold it together, that what is important is to end it while there’s still love, there is no use going on a relationship if there’s no more happiness in it, if one is miserable. I had to pound him with messages to move on, I just don’t know if I was getting through; weeks passed until I think, they got back together.

Finally, he called a month or so later; he was unusually serious. He confirmed they are still together, but he’s still not so happy. And at the same breath he also said he is contented and happy. That he is ready to die because he already got what he wished for: his own place, car, money, well paying job and in a matter of days his green card and “I have you and my family” I was struck by his words, he is contented and happy, because he has me? He did not say him, he said ‘you,’ and that is me… me… me! Oh well, so typical of me, I got scared and did not pursue, instead I asked him what’s in him that he can’t seem to move on. He did not say anything except to say he is still confused on what he really wants. He then jokingly said “ikaw kasi, di mo ako isinasama sa plano mo.” And on a more serious tone he added, that he is ready to give up everything he has to move back here. I got so tongue-tied; I did not really know how to handle everything. I only said, “lobat na ako” well that was true, we’ve been talking for more than an hour on my drive home, but I could have just run up to my room to charge that damn phone. I was already slumped sitting in the front step of our home. Stupid me, what was I thinking about?

I did not sleep well that night and the night after that and the night after that… I kept on thinking what I could have said. I could have told him everything: about how I feel; about how I could not keep on completely committing my self to anyone else because of him; how I always wished we’d end up together, grow old together; how much I love and care for him. I never really cared how he would take it, if he would reciprocate what I feel for him, if ever he would reject me. But so stupid of me, I can never get the courage to tell him that. He asked me if I’m ready to face death now as he is. I told him no., but I did not tell him the reason why. I did not have the courage to tell as he openly did. I still have to tell him everything before I can completely say that yes, I too am contented and happy as you are.

I could have said this and that… I could have done this and that… I could have…

These are simple words that kept on ringing on my mind, an afterthought that offers endless possibilities. Possibilities that are real and imagined blurred of any distinction on what is true and not. What is true anyway? What he says I believe is true, but what about the things left unsaid? They must also be true for how can they be imagined when I feel otherwise.

Ahhh, feeling! That is it! I was so soaked up with so many reasons my mind dictates that I forgot to recognize the most basic peculiarity a human being has: emotion, feeling. Reason has made me so inured. Yes, it has brought me where I am now, but am I completely happy? Shall I now let my instinct rule my mind? I could have… this and that, but what if fate really dictates what happened? What if, it was really meant to be that way? Am I going against the tide of destiny if I acted on what I could have said and done? What is destiny anyway, my destiny? Oh yes, my destiny is my journey, a journey with all the risks, which I was not willing to take, too afraid to take. I have toyed around with my destiny far too long. I now have to take the journey lain out before me; risk is nothing but just a part of it

The alchemist has said that the universe shall conspire to realize one’s dream; all you need to do is listen to whatever your heart dictates. So listen I did to my heart, though my mind said otherwise; and write a letter I did. (I thought of including here the letter I sent him but decided not to, I already sent it to him as my ‘gift’ so it’s not for me to share anymore). In that letter I too, finally broke the barrier of our assumption. I told him I wanted to come clean, to reclaim my pride of being honest and true especially to him. I admitted my being not so straight as an arrow; I admitted how much I love and care for him; that my love wishes him all the happiness he can find in whatever form and whomever this he will find; and that the only thing I can give him is my undying friendship and love.

It took me days and the completion of the first part of this story before I can hit the send button. That is it. I cannot do what ricky davao’s character did in ‘American Adobo’ - fly all the way from New York to Manila just in time to intercept a letter. I finally did it! Did I felt relieved? In a way yes, I became calm and happy despite being fidgety at times with all the thoughts, questions and, unknown possibilities that came rushing into my mind.

Everything is done but the waiting… and more waiting. I never left my phone out of my sight just in case he calls. It has to be fully charged all the time just in case… I must not accept other call just in case… I have to get out past from the basement parking where there is no signal just in case… I have to sleep with my phone beside me just in case… But a day has passed and there was no call. I must have hit that send/receive button a hundred times the following day just to make sure I was not missing anything. But no e-mail message either. Oh, yeah! He said he’ll be working double shift this week, so that must be it, he must be just too tired to log on and check his mail. Another day has gone by and still no response. I started cursing myself… what have I done? Did I scare him? Did I just loose my very best friend? I should have just left everything as it was, maybe that was really my destiny and I tried to alter it. Maybe I should have just taken comfort with the assumption; at least I would still have that glimmer of hope unlike now when I must have already lost everything. So many other questions came and went unanswered or came with more questions but still with no answer. Even morbid thoughts came rushing in: Isn’t it that he spoke of death when he told me he was contented and happy? Is it possible that…? Was it his premonition, his last…? Oh god, please no!!! I can never forgive myself… I have to call him; I have to call him to make sure he’s okay. Did he change his cell number? Why is it not on service? I have forgotten his landline; damn that’s what I get for expecting him to always make the call. He must be okay; if he is not his family must have already been all over his place and his brother or one of his sisters must have already called me by now, that is if they still got my number. Hey! What am I thinking about? Maybe he has not read it yet. Maybe he is still too tired with all the work he has not log on for quiet sometime. Or maybe, he must have already read it and I was wrong and he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. Maybe…. maybe…

By the third day I was already resigned with my fate, whatever it may be. I must give him time, all the time he needs if time can heal the wound and pain I must have caused him. But how could he, after all these years? Another 2 days has passed still no call or e-mail message from him; life has to go on. I have to move on, that’s my mind telling me, but my heart says hang on. I can do nothing more but just wait. Finally, I got a call on the fifth day, just a short call, I was in the mall having dinner after pouring my heart out in the EDSA shrine, and he was just up readying for work: He said, “What’s new?” I nearly choked on the food I was eating the first time I said hello! After some more pleasantries he asked again, “what’s new”? To my mind, oh that’s my cue, how stupid of me!

And so I asked, “the e-mail I sent you, have you read it? Isn’t that new”? I can literally hear my heartbeat, waiting for the answer, which did not really take so long. He replied simply, “matagal ko ng alam yun”

“Ahhhh…” that was me heaving a sigh of relief.

“and so?” I wanted to probe more.

He just repeated what he said, “matagal ko ng alam” then added, “I’m still confused on what I really want.” I don’t really know if it was just me who kept on hearing it repeatedly on my head or he really said again the words “matagal ko ng alam.” He kept on rambling on, but my head was already swimming god knows where. Then it dawned on me, how foolish of me? How could I have doubted him? Love need not be discussed between us. Love speaks for itself, in its own language that we have understood long ago. Just like the comfort of silence we have come to accept between us. How foolish of me, I have told him this a long time ago; that one true test of our friendship has been the level of comfort we have achieved; that we no longer feel uncomfortable with silent pause between us; when silence does not compel anyone of us to say anything just to fill a void, for there is really no void to fill. Just the mere presence of being together is enough to fill any void; there is already a connection that no words can ever fill and he understood this, I have just forgotten; and now I remember, clearly. Love is the same thing; it is never discussed coz no words can ever capture the boundless emotion that one truly feels.

Although, he never said it in so many words, I understood him well. I need not ask him so many questions. I have gone through the same phase and it is only he who can resolve that inner conflict in him. I can never force him on anything; I know that somehow he really is happy knowing it by heart that we have, and will always have each other; and knowing and understanding this makes me immensely happy as well.

Well that is as far as the story goes for now, there is still no ‘the end’ for as I write this, the story still continues. I’m looking forward to the day of his homecoming, just like in old days.

pj August 2004

cryptic point from last night...

2006-06-02T10:30:00.000+08:00

The night’s tempest gives morning calm

For the night speaks of an ironic tale

A tale understood for the words not said

For the heart heard more than the lips did say

Indeed words left hanging has more meaning

Now I wait for the lips to complete what the heart has to say

:)

to the muse of my reflections... "waitlisted"

2006-06-01T10:36:00.000+08:00

My Dear F

I really don’t know if you hate mushy and cheesy stuff so don’t hate me more for this…

In Paulo Coelho’s “The Devil and Miss Prym” one of his notes read: “…When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.”

This led me into asking the question… “Does it take one instant, one week or one eternity to know you love a person?” That is the question I keep on asking myself when confronted by the reality of you. I just know that I have liked and loved you the first instance we met and for me to wait for time, pretending nothing has happened would simply be foolish; love doesn’t need a day or a week; for even a minute or a fraction of a second in the hands of time in love would spell eternity.

This may all seem to be overwhelming for you for I know you are new at this thing. This has been an overwhelming moment for me too and I have been very bold and straightforward in telling you this; I’m just being true to you. I really thank you for being so patient with me on this and I hold you dearly for trusting me with your love as well.

I still don’t have any answer to all of the questions, but one thing is certain I found love in you and that is all that matter.

PJ

In the Beginning...

2006-06-01T09:30:00.000+08:00

In the beginning there was word and the word became flesh....
As the story goes, so does this random abstraction and musing of contemplative fool is born or rather reborn... inspired largely by someone "waitlisted"

The past belongs to the past... so on with the journey...

pj