Heat Is On

what's with the weatheR?

it was so scorching hot yesterday, i woke up in a puddle of my own sweaT. yup, it's as gross as it sounds.

i noticed that heat has a direct correlation to my indolence in writinG. hence, the drought.

the heat index

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i see some heavy, water-soaked clouds up aheaD. will be writing again soon.

Beach Mode

i love morong, bataan.

will post beach outing updates soon.

Let The Choir Sing!

i must be the only gay person i know who is not a Madonna fan. but i gotta say, Glee made her relevant yet again. this show had a slow start especially from the first to the 3rd episode, however from the time somebody got knocked up, it got quirky and interesting. it grew on me. i'm now hooked.

Advent aka, Gleek #20291278

School or Wheels?

a car or higher education?

a mazda or AGSB?

i've been mulling over which one i would be investing my hard earned money oN.

i was dead set on getting a post graduate degree later this year. i want to be the first in my family who will ever have one. it will be my proudest accomplishment.

however, it seems that almost all the signs around me are telling me to go get my own set of wheels. it's not as if i drool every time a colleague brandishes their newly acquired toy, but my life is in dire want of mobility.

both are wants.

nothing would be lost if i do not get either of the two. but i would most definitely gain a lot if i do. note: getting both is out of the picture. at least not anytime soon.

pros
a post graduate degree can take me anywhere, literally. a car can take me anywhere, literally and figuratively.
advantage: wheels

a car can give me spatial freedom. a degree can give me financial freedom.
advantage: post grad

a car can boost my sexy points. a degree can boost my nerd factor.
advantage: car. unless, mr. right digs a sexy nerd, then it's a tie. haha.

cons
post grad: spend now, earn later. a car: spend now, spend more later.
advantage: post grad

for a car, i have to give up my reliance on cab drivers. for a post grad, i would have to give up 2 years of my night life.
advantage: car

a post grad can (definitely) hurt my wallet. a car can (definitely) hurt my wallet and (possibly) hurt people (including me).
advantage: post grad

a car can make me happy. a post grad can make me happy.
advantage: it's a tie!

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in other news, i really abhor the turn out of the Ampatuan murder trial. this, ladies and gentlemen, is like witnessing  Cirque du Corruptus and we got ringside seats! to DOJ secretary Agra, i ask you this: how can you sleep at night knowing that you let two of the worst offenders in Philippine history get off with a slap on the wrist while the families of the slain are still agonizing the tremendous loss?

i've seen the coverage of ANC of this and read all related articles...it is just utterly frustrating!

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on a lighter note:
i'm going to Morong, Bataan this Friday with my kids.

i. wish. it. was. friday. NOW.

Mad Strings 2: On Call

it doesn't matter who starts iT. you could be horny, or curious how he sounds when he moans, or just in need of a release. come on, admit it, you're just playing along, right? curious as to what nasty thing the other guy on the line would say to you,, aren't you? on rare occasions, when you get a guy who is so into it, you give in.


motioN. you start touching yourself. groovin' to the beat of his guttural moans. it gets faster and faster, or slow and deliberate. like a wave crashing back and forth. 


both of you start doing brush strokes on a canvaS. subject: anatomy.  you create the atmosphere, the venue, the circumstance for this encounter. 


he then talks about taking you so forcefully, you end up black and blue lateR. but who cares, right? illusory soreness go away at the speed of thought. you let go of your inhibitions and start mind fucking him from here 'til sunday.


your pulse starts to risE. you can feel your muscles tense. you tell each other how close you are to the edge. each one trying to out-moan the other.


he tries to catch his breath as it erupts over hiM. you drench yourself in your love. 


spenT. sometimes the best sex, happens in the mind. you hang up. you then wipe away the imaginary spoil. no matter which way it goes, you always end up feeling silly on the inside.


aka, S.O.P.s
Advent

On The Market

numbers
2 months since i decided to end our relationshiP. it's been 4 long weeks since i last saw my ex. different reasons came up every week. no withdrawal symptoms. i've never been more free.

it's been 4 years since i can say i'm on the markeT. not that i've never been tempted to dip my feet into the waters during that time. it's only now when i can do it without the creeping guilt.

so what have i been doing recentlY? i really didn't want to put myself out there until 6 months after our break up. so i was just living at the moment. just taking care of my  business. but you know what they say: when you are looking for something, it never arrives and yet when you are not, then they come.



menagerie
the basket case
i met him in one of my classeS. he caught my eye. not really gorgeous, but enough to make you take a second look. tall and has a "band singer" aura. i was more of a substitute for their class so i didn't stay long. one of his classmates was really into me but i didn't take it seriously.

2 weeks later i got an anonymous texT. he introduced himself as BC. he asked if i still remember him. i do, but i said something along the lines of 'help me remember'.

we had conversations that ran for hourS. first impressions were broken down. new ones were formed. he has a girlfriend. but he wants me.

the clinical instructor
i was just winding down my day when i decided to log in downelinK. old school, i know. i was about to log out when i got this IM blinking. i didn't even know DL had an IM function. i first though it was one of those phishing scams. i clicked it anyway.

i got into one of the most interesting conversations i've had in ageS. a typical chat session for me ends when i grow tired of the asinine chatter on the other end of the line. mr. CI kept me hooked. he had a very good way with words. he managed to make jaded ol' me blush. me! of all people. i've seen/heard 'em all. but he was different.

checking him out, a pinoy beautY. sexy brown skin with matching soulful eyes. plus he's got that built i go nuts over.

he sounded very put togetheR. attraction point: same age as i am. i'm envious because at a considerably young age, he is already way more successful than i am.

atom

for lack of  a creative monicker, i just decided to call him by the first person that came to my mind when i saw his pictures: Atom Araullo. a real dead ringer. 

funny how i met hiM. it was when i was about to quit the same downelink session i had with CI above. i have a weakness for boy next door looks. 

a culinary arts student who would be graduating this junE. first time he called me, i called him CI's name because i got the numbers mixed up. haha. but he was cool with it.

downside, he is 6 years my junioR. my threshold is 2 years. at least he doesn't sound childish. he is surprisingly more mature than BC above.

--

on some days, i ask myself if i'm ready for this agaiN. on some days, i ask myself what am i waiting for? this ride's going to be interesting. :)

Hair-o-graphy

all day today i've been seeing bald meN. some carry it well. some don't.

i just saw my dad the other day and boy was his hair one step away from leaving the buildinG. no, he's not bald. it's just really, really thinned out.

i have the misfortune of being born in a family with really thiN, limp hair. however, if there's one thing to be assured of, it's that the seniors never lost their hair. it just, well, thinned out. you know, where you see hair, but you also see some scalp.

i guess that is why over the yearS, i've been wandering the desert of differing hairstyles. today's 'do, tomorrow's mirage.

i have phalacrophobia: the fear of going bald. is that a bad thinG? 

so this entry is more of an ode to haiR. i was thinking if ever my hair goes the way of the dodo someday, at least, i'd have a scrapbook full of different looks i've tried over the years.

20-something years ago: starting at the tips

i was born with straight hair. then over the course of several yearS, in grade school, for some unknown reason, it suddenly turned curly. this fact, compounded with the fact that i inherited the thin hair strands so characteristic of my dad's side of the family, made my sense of identity non-existent. 

i hated my hair. in tagalog, manipis na nga, salot pa. LOL. i remember being in denial, trying everything i can to somehow straighten it out. at 12 i had this silly notion that if i sleep with a swim cap on (you know, those skintight rubber things?) i would wake up with straight hair. hay...so naive.

but i tried to compensate by other meanS. i must have tried every imaginable hair product known to man. gels, mousse, spritzers, shine vitamins, wax, hair clay... name the brand, i've tried it.

(aka PDV - public display of vanity)

Movie Marathon 2

Keillers Park tells the story of a man who blossomed late in life. the allure of a pretty young boy toy swept him off his senses. how much are you willing to sacrifice is the movie's tagline. in the protagonist's case, everything.

there were some good points and some really cliche-ic ones about the moviE. we've seen it all before. a 30-something repressed man on the doorstep of marriage, suddenly getting conflicting emotions about who he really is.

good points: i like how the movie featured two men who are borderline attractivE. by that i mean they are not celluloid-ready drop dead gorgeous demigods who you will never see in real life. they are accessible-attractive: these are the guys you would see in your office, or in the bar or pretty much everywhere else and would make you go: hmm...pwede.

i like movies that respect your intellecT. shots that show non-speaking parts that tell a whole gamut of emotions. this movie runs plenty of such moments.

Peter, the main character is a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth. he was at the threshold of inheriting his father's architecture firm. he was about to get married to a homely lady. their lives were mapped out in front of them. that is until one faithful encounter.

Nassim is a frivolous, flambouyant free spirit. you know those "artist" types (read: beautiful, creative, and poor). he dances to beat of his own drums. he sets Peter's gray world on fire.

cliche: peter gives up everything for Nassim. he gets disowned. he hurts the soon-to-be blushing bride and possibly scars her psychologically for life after the way he admits what he really is. his perfect life, gone in a flash all because he yearned for Nassim. he was overtaken by a primal love.

eventually Nassim becomes over the top obnoxious and out of control. and for those who dig these kind of things: there's a lengthy frontal nudity. (warning though: of the flaccid kind). soon, the once "perfect couple" existence gave way to "familiarity breeds contempt".

what is not a cliche though is how the actors reacted to the sadness that wrought their lives. there were no crying-in-the-shower scene with matching sliding downwards to a seating/fetal position. how they cried, how they said their lines, how they fucked and climaxed (5 minutes sex, tops) are all based on real life. Nassim can somehow be a celluloid metaphor for all of those exes we've had that left us after we grew "predictable" for their "tastes". burn them! burn them all! (hehe)

cliche: there is no happy ending. just see it for yourself. they just had to do it.

i'd give it a 6.5 out of 10. i'll add a .50 more for the understated yet really compelling acting from some of the support cast.

--

lazy Saturday at home.

--

my mom's been discharged from the hospital. i am so relieved. she's doing well with the recuperation.

Mad Strings 1

"trivial matters are tranquil seas of deception. never let your guard down. know when your so called apprentice conceals a dagger behind the veil. take on the guise of water. learn how to ebb when the time calls for it, then surge when the opportunity arises. water can never be stabbed. drown him in torrents of his own iniquities."

-Advent

Entertain Me

discordant thoughts folloW.

--
1. i love my joB. i love how it gives me the liberty to express myself. i love how it gives me the spotlight. i love how i get revered by people i've handled. i love how banking is simultaneously a challenge and a cakewalk. i love how i am able to bring out the best in people. i love the pay. i love them eye candy. i love the exclusivity.

2. i'm getting used to being stalkeD. i, somehow...like the fear.

3.i've been watching for 6 seasons now, however i can not say i'm too much of an American Idol faN. ironic, huh? i watch it to see those who make utter fools of themselves. i love watching train wrecks.

4. i can never understand why people smokE. why burn your lungs to a cinder? why make your breath smell like a decomposing rat? why stain your teeth with nicotine? why make those tobacco tycoons richer? why risk abnormalities in your unborn child?

5. what works in porn doesn't translate well in real lifE...

6. my dear friend MV is sporting a basking gloW. i would have to say: Elle Woods was right. Endorphins really make happy faggies, faggier. wait, she didn't say it like that? oh, ok. something to that effect. but to MV: i envy your fresh-from-the-gym glow. just give me some time. i'll soon be invading that scene too!

7. i'll be in galera next weeK. . .

Memento Mori

my mom was rushed to the hospital this morninG. this had been a recurring pain she's been having since late last year. i was so scared. i've battled with so many morbid thoughts. we both share the same loathing for hospitals.

have you ever been admitteD?

--
i've been admitted twice on 2 separate yearS. one was for a dengue scare. the other for another scare altogether. for both occasions i stayed in the hospital for 3 weeks.

the first time i was admitted, i felt like i was thrown into an alien worlD. the only instance i've been to a hospital prior was to see my newborn niece in the nursery ward. i was so disoriented.

what scared me the most was the loneliness of the dark nightS.

the unreasonable fear that i could just lie in my bed and never wake up to see the daY. 3 weeks seemed like pass like an eternity. no matter how fancy my suite was, i just couldn't help but feel so insignificant. i cursed Tagaytay Highlands with all my might (that's where i got bitten by a mosquito). ironic that a place so idyllic could have sent me to my demise.

as soon as i got out, i vowed never to have a reason to come bacK.

but i diD. the second time was because i was a wanton prick. at 23, i was so hungry for the chase. the burning desire was too much to handle. i was the aggressor. i'd lure. i'd devour. i just had to be satiated. i wanted to run out of pages in my little black book (an essential). i felt like i could do anything and get away with it. i dominated my catch for the day only to throw them away the next like yesterday's news. i had no inhibitions. it's either you want it from me or i go. i led a life of utter disregard for restraint. until i was struck down by the worst fever i've had in years. it ran for 4 days, never abating.

i had to be rushed back to the hospitaL. this time, i felt like i slammed into a brick wall. cold water washing over my stupor. this time around, the fear was heightened to a point that my previous foray into the hospital seemed like child's play. i had so many thoughts in my head. i knew i acted like an animal. all those things i've read came rushing back to me in torrents. is this my damnation?

2 days passed before i got the resulT. funny how my doctor was still giving me the eye when i was lying there. he was attractive and all but i wasn't in any mood anymore. i had to put my foot down. i said to myself that if this is going to be it, i would not regret anything. but i was scared stiff.

i had a sore throaT. chills at night. i wanted to eat but there's like a thousand needles churning in my stomach. pain in abundance.

i felt that maybe divine retribution finally caught up with mE. i talked to god privately and tried to bargain with him. i said, i hope this isn't what i dread it is. give me a chance and i would be celibate for a considerable amount of time, i would even be an advocate for life, i thought half jokingly.

...turns out god has a sense of humoR.

i had this:

Movie Marathon

thanks to the power of the internet, i've been able to make my free time worthwhilE. award winning films from the world over. first on my highly recommended list:

Einaym Pkuhot (Eyes Wide Open)

Chris Knipp best puts it into words:

What happens if you're a married man with children in an ultra-orthodox Jewish community in Jerusalem and you fall in love and lust with a beautiful young man? Couples counseling? A divorce and a move to San Francisco with your lover? No. Something much more dire, as we learn from this simple, powerful first film in Hebrew by Haim Tabakman.

You get a brief period of happiness. Aaron (Zohar Shtrauss) in fact tells his rabbi that he was dead before, and now he feels alive. A beautiful 22-year-old orthodox man named Ezri, (Israeli hearthrob Ran Danker) turns up during a heavy rainstorm at Aaron's butcher shop just after he's reopened it following his father's death. Aaron probably realizes the minute he sees Ezri that he is a temptation. But he subscribes to the belief that the man who lives successfully close to temptation earns greater favor with God. He's come to see life as testing, not joy.

Without much pushing, Aaron takes in Ezri, who's from somewhere else and seems to be a Yeshiva student in search of a Yeshiva, appears (to the viewer, anyway) to have arrived to look up a former boyfriend -- does Ezri represent fresh blood in the ultra-orthodox world? -- and needs a job and a place to stay. Ezri smiles; Aaron never does. Aaron's scenes with his wife Rivvka (Tinkerbell) are dutiful, affectionate, and incredibly dull. He pushes Ezri away at first, but as Ezri becomes a part of his life, learning how to do the work of a butcher, his attraction becomes stronger. After a number of physical contacts and a trip to the country to immerse themselves together in a lake, it's Aaron who comes after Ezri, wordlessly, after they've loaded a big animal carcass into the cooler. Tabakman and the writer Merav Doster create a world in which you know exactly what people are thinking when they only stare at each other. The values and the desire to override them are equally clear.

Can You Tell?

everybody's been talking about religion all day. to break the monotony: maiba naman.
i have a 99.9% accuracy in telling if someone is 'one of us'. but did you know that aside from that instinct, physiology also plays a role?

myth:
"pare, I can totally tell he's gay! gay fingers!"

reality:
suprisingly, there's some grain of truth in this. it's called digit ratio theory and multiple studies have confirmed it.

according to the theory, if you have a longer ring finger, it means you got more testosterone as a fetus and are more likely to be hyperactive, aggressive and be as straight as a ruler.

a longer index finger, on the other hand, means more estrogen, making you more neurotic and sensitive. so if your index finger is way longer than your ring finger, you're like the pinkest fairy ever, right? wrong.

actually, it's more of a combination. the more equal your ring and index fingers are, the higher your probability of coming out (pun intended) gay.

interesting, huh? how were you reading this post until you checked your fingers?

for a more in depth discussion (if your into that kinda thing):
http://www.human-nature.com/nibbs/02/manning.html

--

this got me looking at photographs of celebrities. specifically their hands. pretty interesting what you'd see.

(for some bumfuck reason picassa displays really grainy pictures. but if i use other sites, it gets blocked in the office. as a work around, i've linked my flickr to the pic. click for higher res. ha take that picassa!)

Hmm....

Romancing Nietzsche

do you (still) believe in goD?

--

all day today, i've just been preoccupied with 2 things: surfing and sleepinG. at times, both. at 5pm i woke up finding my fingers still on the keyboard. ha!

i throw that question out in light of what i have been seeing in my surroundingS. are we still a roman catholic nation or are we just living out our own interpretation of the religion? i, however, do not want to generalize because i know for a fact that there are sects out there that still go through the motions of the holy week. simply put, if the question above struck a chord then there may be some point of contention.

have you ever quantified how deep is your faith (or lack thereof)? in my credo, i wrote something 5 years ago along these lines:

I believe in a greater power that dictates the outcome of my life.
I believe that this power emanates to the small things, things that are usually taken for granted, because as we go about our daily existence, they become mundane and perfunctory;

i believe in god, but not necessarily the canon that follows. i could say that in terms of the spiritual, i have a very healthy relationship with god.

--

a man whose body of work had a profound influence in my philosophy is Friedrich Nietzsche. i've almost completed my collection of his books. works of distinction would be Beyond Good and Evil, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, and his most personal creation, The Gay Science (sidenote: i went on a date and this supposedly "bookish" guy. this came up in the discussion and he thought i meant a manual for PLUs. oh boy.)

you may have heard of this ubiquitous aphorism: "that which does not kill us makes us stronger". yup, he penned it.

what really jumped out of the pages for me in one of his works would be this:

Sunny Windows

XVI
I love the handful of the earth you are.
Because of its meadows, vast as a planet,
I have no other star. You are my replica
of the multiplying universe.

Your wide eyes are the only light I know
from extinguished constellations;
your skin throbs like the streak
of a meteor through rain.

Your hips were that much of the moon for me;
your deep mouth and its delights, that much sun;
your heart, fiery with its long red rays,

was that much ardent light, like honey in the shade.
So I pass across your burning form, kissing
you - compact and planetary, my dove, my globe.

~Pablo Neruda

here's to a mind blowing summeR. i know i'll be having one.

:)

Just Shush

do you consider yourself religiouS?

growing up, i remember just being "second-hand religiouS". my mom and dad aren't atheists, but they aren't the praying type either. they believe that going to church should only be done once a year -christmas! my grandma (mom side) was more of the "thou shall not speak the Lord's name in vain" type.

every summer i remember, we would stay over at her house to have a respite from the city lifE. it was an idyllic existence, except when it's the holy week. she would reprimand us if we are not doing the motions.

she had a rule about not uttering a word for the whole of Holy Friday. we can only do hand signals. speaking louder than a squeek would make the cross heavier and the nails more painful for Christ. being impressionable young 'uns that we are, the thought of making someone bleed because of our talking mortified us.

and the fooD. oh the food! fish cooked in every imaginable way. grilled, baked, put in sinigang, skewered, relleno-ed...we had to check our backs just in case we were growing scales.

then there's the praying of the rosary...in spanisH. i was just mumbling along.

we also had a specific hour of the day where we would just meditate about our transgressions to the lorD. we had to ask for forgiveness for every single one.

playing was not allowed of coursE. but back then i was already i was already a hard headed runt so i went sneaking into the storage room. i piled chairs to reach the high cabinet containing my toys. chairs slipped. got the wind seriously knocked out of me. and i semi passed out. when i got to, it was late afternoon.

i got to know my lola's posse of lovely old ladies and their hushed chitchatS.

it seemed to go on foreveR. sadly, just like the afternoon sun setting, my grandma got weaker as time marched along. soon she barely have the energy to stand up.

with her, our holy week traditions went awaY.

--

the silence of the day makes me feel like looking back on those golden afternoonS. i used to abhor those rules. now there is that bittersweet pang reminiscing.

the holy week we knew back then is so different from what it is now, don't you think sO?

which one do you prefeR?