Random thoughts on a January day

Habang nakasakay ng jeep papasok sa unibersidad, bigla kong natanong sa sarili ko (habang naalala itong isang tula ni Stephen Dunn):

Is it really possible to know what goes on inside a marriage, even that of your parents?

No, my parents are not about to divorce. In fact, applicable din naman yung tanong diba sa mga marriage na naglalast? Napaisip lang ako bigla kasi ibang klaseng dynamics din talaga ang kasal, hindi lang sya basta contract on top of a relationship eh, hindi lang sya basta governed by romantic notions such as love, commitment and companionship (although they appear to be its core principles). I'm sure what I'm saying isn't new to your ears, I guess this is just the twenty-something in me realizing this stuff  on a more personal level, tipong nagsisimula na kasi akong maka-relate talaga. But this is not even an attempt to answer that question.

Napa-ponder lang tuloy ako, what about my situation and my future? Sa susunod talaga na may magtanong sakin na relative (no matter how well-meaning), sabihin ko kaya na, "Ay, matagal pa po yun... (sabay hirit) matagal pa po kasi ang same-sex marriage sa Pinas." 

Pero hindi nga, what about us party to same-sex partnerships (especially for those who believe in marriage and desire it), how different are we able to (or forced to) construct our notions of a long-term relationship without the possibility (or remote possibility) of marriage? Without comparing which is better or worse. I'm not saying marriage is the pinnacle of a relationship between two people, but surely marriage could provide something beautiful (or different, for the not-so-romantic) to gay relationships. And for us to be denied that extra something just because, well, just because (go deeper, is there a reason really?) isn't that just non-sense? And to think we have to fight for it, still. Sure, you don't need a stamp of approval from society/religion to engage in whatever relationship, which is your own business. But.

For me, what is at stake here is that we are being excluded from (or accused of attacking) the very same values we choose to uphold through ourselves and through the personal lives we try to lead. No kind of relationship holds monopoly on love. On commitment. On one of the most inexplicable experience of what it is to be human. That is ultimately the kind of acknowledgement we want to prevail. Nothing ever nullifies a person's love for another, not even sexuality.

How come the debate can't end simply with that?

It is the same with parenting and family. What limiting (and ultimately without compassion) belief it is to think that children only thrive within a father&mother environment. Kung commercial ito ng rubbing alcohol, pwede. But in the real world as it happens, it is not sufficient. Nor is it necessary. Instead it should be recognized as one among many possibilities. What merit does that argument hold to the exclusion of other family arrangements (not only that of same-sex couples) that put the welfare of children first? None.

Naisip ko nga, hindi ba mas deliberate choice nga ang pagbuo ng pamilya for same-sex couples (let's say)? Of course, that doesn't mean their children would  fare better than the rest. So why the fear? Why the prophecies of doom? 

Do they think that gay couples connive secretly with each other in their pretend-not-Valentine Feb 14 dinners or in their post-anal sex cuddling, saying, "Surely mas maraming borta mas masaya, Meynteyn!" or "Fuck this broken wearisome world! Let's go raise some child of darkness (for lack of "a mother's love") who'll certainly grow up to be a pedophile or mass murderer," and then proceed to create a family? A family where they will devote so much of their energy and time, expend a big part of themselves, and invest their dreams on?

That's all the proof you need to be able to believe in your human heart that, sure, gays are out there to destroy humanity. They are threat to humanity because they are all too inhuman to want calling each other Husband (or Wife) and, maybe, even chase around the house grandchildren of their own.  

____
Sabi ni Vik, gusto daw nya ng anak na pangarap maging stockbroker. Ako, future Nobel Prize in Physics winner pwede na.

Taking stock

The following is an e-mail from the past, composed 11 months and 24 days ago, on December 10, 2010. It is being delivered from the past through FutureMe.org

Dear FutureMe,
I am writing this today, it's Dec 10, 2010.
Ano na nangyayari sa'yo ngayon? Ano na ang plans mo?
Are you in a relationship? Are you happy?
Well at least try be for this day :-)
Good luck!

Dear PastMe,

Nagulat ako sa email mo, nakalimutan ko na 'to totally. Nakiliti ako nung nung pagbukas ko ng email ko at andyan yung sulat mo, para kasi akong nakatanggap ng isang napakagandang balita.

Ni hindi nga ako makapaniwala halos isang taon na pala ang nakalipas. 2011 has been a year of metamorphosis, actually. And you know what? It started unfolding the day after you wrote that letter. Just one day, truly, sabi nga nila: what a difference a day makes. All I did was to open myself.

Or, maybe to put it better, to finally break down all the walls I've built to challenge myself with. It was a labyrinth I am no longer in need of. I thought I needed to triumph over some Minotaur at the heart of it, but there was none after all. I admit there was some dark pleasure in being haunted, even by your self.  And all these years, I had a hard time knowing where the maze actually stops, and where the real world begins.

But then you sneak in some light little by little. Watch how new shapes are limned out of the familiar darkness you knew only by touch, and discover the usual doors and windows that comes with a usual home, a bit unkempt and musty, but yours altogether.

There is room for others here, too, if only you welcome yourself to stay.

Pastme, I've met a lot of new people, and together with the old, all of them have made this past year the landmark in a man's life that it has become. And then there's also this one who wandered just by my door, I happened to have let him in despite the dishes waiting in the sink. He said he doesn't mind and I hope to high heavens he really really meant it so. Because in my room, I pinned this oddly-fitting photograph of two people sharing the same smile. Outside the frame, you can't see it, but he holds him in his hands. The pronouns pertaining to which person does which make for bad grammar, but this is not about grammar.

I am now getting back to those remaining dishes.

There are days to sit out under the sun and sky. Search yourself and make plans. And again when some don't work. Take walks when it hurts. Clean your desk once in a while. Kiss inside the movies. Say stupid things, write badly, fail to meet deadlines. Breathe deeply and take the world in, isn't it all there? Don't you just have to will it and choose?

Uncertain as ever the future is, you go on and meet it nonetheless. And is there any other way? But remember to carry always a space in your heart and a bigger one on your head. Hold not yourself back, but take anchorage in what you hold dear. Let your hands them remember well.


___

Return

well, gusto ko lang magshare ng tula. Nakita ko kasi ulit yung notebook ko ng handcopied poems, marami-rami din akong naisulat dito, yun nga lang hindi ko na natuloy. Binabasa ko ulit yung mga tula, yung iba maaring hindi ko na gusto gaya nang dati, yung iba naman andun pa rin yung unang talab gaya nung una ko silang nabasa. 

I've always loved this poet, Stephen Dunn, ang personal kasi ng mga tula niya, mostly meditations. Tipong reading his poems is like hearing someone talk to themselves out loud, at gusto mo lang umupo at pakinggan siya. For me, he's a person with such a lovely humanity.


Essay on the Personal
by Stephen Dunn


Because finally the personal
is all that matters,
we spend years describing stones,
chairs, abandoned farmhouses—
until we’re ready. Always
it’s a matter of precision,
what it feels like
to kiss someone or to walk
out the door. How good it was
to practice on stones
which were things we could love
without weeping over. How good
someone else abandoned the farmhouse,
bankrupt and desperate.
Now we can bring a fine edge
to our parents. We can hold hurt
up to the sun for examination.
But just when we think we have it,
the personal goes the way of
belief. What seemed so deep
begins to seem naive, something
that could be trusted
because we hadn’t read Plato
or held two contradictory ideas
or women in the same day.
Love, then, becomes an old movie.
Loss seems so common
it belongs to the air,
to breath itself, anyone’s.
We’re left with style, a particular
way of standing and saying,
the idiosyncratic look
at the frown which means nothing
until we say it does. Years later,
long after we believed it peculiar
to ourselves, we return to love.
We return to everything
strange, inchoate, like living
with someone, like living alone,
settling for the partial, the almost
satisfactory sense of it.

___

Differences, and ugh that yellow smoothie

I think I've always been class conscious. It's one of the reasons why I particularly am not nostalgic over my college life and kept to a small company of people over those years. And especially after that ruse moments before my graduation with respect to my being a scholarship recipient (which was practically a rude reminder I take it of my middle class standing), my affection towards that certain college-basketball-crazed institution practically went nil.

You see I have, what I'll call it generally, "car issues." It's that discomfort and insecurity for example when I first found out my boyfriend drives his own car or otherwise practically has a driver. It's that feeling of alienation during my undergrad days that made me avoid solo trips to a nearby Mcdo (mcdonald's for pete's sake!) with its throngs of fellow students calling their yayas and drivers for sundo. And don't even let me get started on Starbucks.

Early college years before I rented closer to school, I hated Mondays and early classes. Those usually spell braving the rush hour and the mad traffic along SLEX. So I learned to stand farther from the train doors, away from the daily mob action and potential pickpockets. To cool myself under where the aircon vents are. To pick the best seats on a bus. To demand the right change because I know exactly how much my fare costs and when there are hikes. Which is why I have mixed feelings of resentment and envy for those who come late to class because of "difficulties" with campus parking lots.

Why me? Why them? Those kinds of questions. Why can't my father who has an office job even buy a family car? Who gets to decide that this shitty gymrat RayBan-in-hand (but hot) freshman and his new company of cool guys deserve their own rides while I have to lug my backpack (and sometimes a hand carry even) across the whole of the metro twice a day? In what way could I say that I'm perfectly okay with that? The questions began to touch on moot issues of who deserves what, meaning, less of a sense of fairness but rather of entitlement, which frankly aren't the right issues, though they may be closest to heart.

So you learn to accept facts of life, and learn to ask other questions. (Or at least get a move on.) Perhaps those less naive, those more positive. You know, those with "importance". Like what career to take? Should you follow your dreams? Or which stable job leads fastest to a car? Hehe.

Over the ease gained after downing few beers, I once told my boyfriend I've realized how different our paths appear to me. If I do adhere to conventional standards of success for "my class," I will work to earn enough for a car and a place of my own. And even then stability is no guarantee. But once you accomplished that, then no one gets to say you haven't succeeded. That's something a man can take pride of, and in no way do I look down on those material aspirations.

What I realized is that it translates already to years, to different priorities that will motivate our separate endeavors as two individuals. So there's a wee bit again of discomfort there. Again. At differences. My weak point really, I admit. (In a way, aren't some differences harder to take from partners, than even from closest friends?)

Actually what got me to revisit and muse on this topic is some trivial incident. Boyfriend treated me to a drink on his usual hangout/study place Starbucks where I only order half the time. That particular time I was resolved not to. Because I can't afford the luxury. Because to be practical, a coffee worth 2-3 decent meals is a luxury for me. Because of so many circumstances that leave me sometimes bitter like my resentment for my less-than-capable father; and since I want a vacation with my boyfriend, because I needed to accept tutoring the exact kind of students I am most insecure to so I could manage myself by myself over the break between semesters. Boy, was I unable to keep my calm and I almost gave in to an unfamiliar anger. (Because a part of me was embarrassed?) Good thing I didn't. It was a well-meaning gesture after all. But I just had to pause and reflect afterwards why I had that so intense a reaction. Turns out it's an insecurity I still have to keep working on.

You know I have that opposite equivalent of a poker face, and it was so easy for him to see how ruffled I was. Yes, I got angry. But I knew better than to talk at the heat of the moment, what with my legendary incompatibility with coherent speech.  So what I did was to take down a big gulp of whatever that yellow smoothie was (And for the record, I  didn't like that flavor, haha, not complaining though, free is free), together with a good measure of ego and pride. In no time, I could smile again.

________________________

Holler to V, it's our <3rd month. Hey you fine mister you.  

Pagsasanay sa Retorika | Lumang Tugtugin

Aporia
Ano bang nakita
ng puso kong ito sa 'yo?
Kapag ika'y kasama,
anong ligaya ko, sinta.

Bakit labis kitang mahal?
Yakap mo'y di ko malimutan.
Bakit labis kitang mahal?
Sumpa man, iniibig kita.

Pagwawangis
Isang ngiti mo lang
at ako'y napapaamo.

Pagtawag
Heto na ang pinakahihintay natin,
heto na tayo magkayap sa dilim.
O, kay sarap ng mga nakaw na sandali
habang tayo'y magkayap sa dilim.

Pagtatao
Heto na naman naririnig,
kumakaba-kaba itong dibdib,
lagi nalang sinasabi:
pwede ka bang makatabi?

Pagmamalabis
Oh babe isang ngiti mo lang 

pawi na ang aking uhaw.
Huwag ka lamang tatawa
baka ako'y malunod na.

Pagtawag

O kay ganda,
O kay gandang mag-alay sa 'yo.

Pagtutulad
Dahil kung ikaw ang yakap ko

parang yakap ko na rin ang langit.

Yung simple lang

Walang iba pang sasarap

sa pagtitinginan natin.

Sana ay di na magwakas

itong awit ng pag-ibig.

___

The Master Speed

by Robert Frost

No speed of wind or water rushing by

But you have speed far greater. You can climb

Back up a stream of radiance to the sky,

And back through history up the stream of time.

And you were given this swiftness, not for haste

Nor chiefly that you may go where you will,

But in the rush of everything to waste,

That you may have the power of standing still—

Off any still or moving thing you say.

Two such as you with such a master speed

Cannot be parted nor be swept away

From one another once you are agreed

That life is only life forevermore

Together wing to wing and oar to oar.

______

Para kay V, na laging handang tumigil

Upward-beating heart, hay Rilke

from Letters to a Young Poet

Most people have (with the help of conventions) turned their solutions toward what is easy and toward the easiest side of the easy; but it is clear that we must trust in what is difficult; everything alive trusts in it, everything in Nature grows and defends itself any way it can and is spontaneously itself, tries to be itself at all costs and against all opposition. We know little, but that we must trust in what is difficult is a certainty that will never abandon us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be one more reason for us to do it.

     It is also good to love: because love is difficult. For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation. That is why young people, who are beginners in everything, are not yet capable of love: it is something they must learn. With their whole being, with all their forces, gathered around their solitary, anxious, upward-beating heart, they must learn to love. But learning-time is always a long, secluded time, and therefore loving, for a long time ahead and far on into life, is: solitude, a heightened and deepened kind of aloneness for the person who loves. Loving does not at first mean merging, surrendering, and uniting with another person (for what would a union be of two people who are unclarified, unfinished, and still incoherent?), it is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world, to become world in himself for the sake of another person; it is a great, demanding claim on him, something that chooses him and calls him to vast distances. Only in this sense, as the task of working on themselves ("to hearken and to hammer day and night"), may young people use the love that is given to them. Merging and surrendering and every kind of communion is not for them (who must still, for a long, long time, save and gather themselves); it is the ultimate, is perhaps that for which human lives are as yet barely large enough.

-Rainier Maria Rilker, May 14, 1904

How to say it in Pastiche

I see us in the park,
Strolling the summer days in the imaginings in my head.

In the evening when the day is through,
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine,
Blowing through the jasmine on my mind.

You keep your rights, I'll take your nights
No one can lose when we take the lights out.

Let's start with the ABC of it,
Roll right down to the XYZ of it,
Teach me tonight.

Aye, aye,
Teach me how to dougie,
Teach me, teach me how to dougie.

Then one by one, the stars would all go out.
Then you and I would simply fly away.

I may be climbing on rainbows, but here it goes,
And if you're wondering what this song is leading to,
I want to make it with you.


***
Knocks me off my feet - Stevie Wonder
Summer breeze - Seals & Crofts
Sweet surrender - Bread
Teach me tonight - Dinah Washington
Teach me how to Dougie - California Swag District
If -Bread
Make it with you - Bread

Dahil kailangan talaga bawat personal blog ay pagdadaanan ang cheesy lyrics na post.
(♫ All my bitches love me,
All my, all my bitches love me,
You ain't fuckin' with my dougie)

Short musings

You know what, I'm at a point in my young life where all's good. It's far from perfect, definitely. Uncertainties old and new may be creeping up at times (numerous, actually), I'm still messed-up as everyone else is, but I am getting more of these quiet moments when I could honestly say to myself jeesuz, I'm fine (so relax and stop whining). Well, I admit part of it is because of a certain somebody who likes to microwave adobo and hates carrots. This is not an uncommon result, so my imagined surveys say. Well, I've got nothing else to say. Just got lucky, I suppose. Here's to hopefully more luck on its way, who knows maybe I could  someday go to Mongolia and travel with horses like a nomad, live in a yurt, and learn to play the morin khuur (a horsehead fiddle) and throat-sing. Oops forgive that bit of random dreaming there.

And oh, I've come to write a little something by way of reminiscing.

***

Premise

We needn’t have hurried after all

he says when he missed his 3 A.M. bus, a hint

lingering in the air you ignore, but you give in

instead to a last kiss before closing the car doors

meant: Well, have a nice life, good luck

with that fight you’re having, cheater

you turned out to be.  But you are tired

and fumble on the double locks, you wanting

to just close the night after you

on a bed you do not share. Next time

perhaps this you’re getting is a nicer screw

with fewer surprises, like the taste of his mouth

you’re now discovering, heavy breaths you’d like

of it quicken as he takes you in, out. Come later

you would invite him to your room but tonight

the time being must just be a detour so

I think I’ll go now you address the room

buckle your belt as you must leave

nothing, again it’s same way easy. You could

be polite and not betray a little too much

smile learning to keep yourself in check. But

suppose convince yourself you are not that

pleased, suppose, yes, you could stay for the night.

___

Studies on Postscripts

I posit that a love letter is a written as token of one or more of the following: a promise, an act of humility, a confession, a belabored apology, a defense,

 a surrender, a risk, a dedication, perhaps even an ending, or a prologue, a roadmap, a sweet nothing.

That although a love letter could only be written for the first time (could it?), what you add hastily or otherwise at the end’s always is.

I said I sometimes get scared. What I didn’t say: don’t forget I never said I’m unhappy. I found out one can inhabit these states at the same time though I muddle my saying it with double negatives. It’s an affectation I’d like to keep when I walk in on difficulties.

For hours, we lie like beached creatures on the sheets where sleep shallows into somnolence, breaking and foaming gently between the crevices our locked bodies try to close. The sound of tall bamboos and the wind that rattles them when I wake, this is that I am writing for the first time. There you were, with your habit of shores I imagine you to have, telling me it was like a rain-forest instead.  Which turned out to be a trivia, my hesitation secretly turning to embarrassment at that. And our quiet laughter that filtered out the window and was lost to the world outside bathed by the weak sun and abating rain.

___

Phases on a Haiku

The midnight pulls in the remnants

of day, the moon in its fullness

it should be enough

***

The midnight pulls in the remnants

of day, you are the moon in its fullness

is here yet elsewhere, nowhere.

***

The midnight pulls back the remnants

of day, the moon in its fullness

stays, resists the turning of the hour.

***

The midnight pulls all remnants

of day, ours is the moon in its fullness

ripe between your teeth, my fingers. 

___

Somebody aced it: "The Secret Lives of Gay Men" by Ryan O'Connell

Boys love each other like this: shirts off, blue jeans, smoking a joint in bed maybe listening to some old records. They’ll take their fingertips across each other’s chests, down arms, and almost to the penis. They’ll circle it curiously and then either go for the plunge or shy away. They’ll bury their heads into someone else’s arms and have their hair stroked. It will feel like you’re getting shampooed at some fancy salon and you won’t ever want them to stop. Boys love each other like that.

Boys love each other when they’re wrestling. It’s a thing amongst gay men. We use our aggression, beat each other up and then switch gears when we feel the need to get all tender and soft. It feels strange—switching seamlessly from physical aggression to absolute devotion and tenderness—but it’s what lives inside us. We tread those lines constantly. We want to punch you hard on the arm and then hold you tight.

Boys break down each other’s walls. It’s an exercise in patience, getting a man to surrender to you, but when they do, their body explodes with feelings. They lock themselves up and when someone finally opens the floodgates, a whole lot of everything comes out. They’re a piñata and you’re carrying the bat.

People always seem to marvel at men who unravel and show their sensitive sides. A woman delights at seeing such a change. It’s such a victory to see a male become unchained to their machismo. When it happens between two men, however, it’s truly magnificent. The sight of two boys loving each other like they’ve been taught not to do is a revelation.

We know what you think of us. We know that there’s this image of gay men just being detached and hungry for sex. There is that. There is a lot of that. But there’s also thoughtfulness, concern, monogamy, Sunday afternoons in bed, I love you babe, I love you a lot, and you make me so happy. There’s so much of that and it’s never really talked about. It’s the secret lives of boys who love boys. Let’s blow the lid off of it, okay? Let’s expose every sweet moment, every kissed neck, every intense hand holding session. It’s super progressive to treat us like loving human beings rather than horny animals, isn’t it? So progressive.

____

original here

Having fishbol with you

(o kung pano balahuraing-salin ang "Having a Coke with You" ni Frank O'Hara, at oo ito yung ginamit sa chick-flick na Beastly, pero alam ko na sya bago nun ah)


Having fishbol with you


mas masaya pa yun kaysa ang pumunta sa Tagaytay, Pagudpod, Antipolo, Laguna, Cebu
o ang hassle na pagsakay sa LRT1 mula Taft hanggang Monumento tuwing rush hour
marahil dahil sa uniform mong black shirt na mukha kang mas payat at seryoso
marahil dahil sa gusto kita, marahil dahil sa hilig mong humithit ng lights
marahil dahil sa mga matitingkad na bulaklak ng fire-tree sa campus
marahil dahil sa lihim na kinukubli ng ating mga ngiti sa harap ng ibang tao at mga estatuwa
di ako makapaniwala na tuwing magkasama tayo ay mayroon pang kasing payapa
kasing taimtim kasing tiyak gaya ng isang 10-talampakang Buddha samantalang sa harap nito
sa init at sikat ng alas tres ng hapon ng Maynila ay dumuduyan tayo
pabalik sa isa’t isa gaya ng isang punong sa sarili nitong pagmamalas ay humihinga


at lahat ng mga larawan tila wala silang mukha, pintura lamang
na bigla kang magtataka kung bakit pa ba sila ipininta


Tumingin ako
sa’yo at nais ko lang ang tingnan ka, kaysa ang lahat ng larawan at litrato sa mundo
except siguro ang Bench billboard ng Philippine Rugby team, yung nasa Guadalupe
at buti ‘di ka sumasakay madalas ng MRT kaya maituturo ko sa’yo ang tanging bahagi ng Pasig na kilala ko dahil naging parte ko na rin ito
at dahil sa kakatuwa mong pagkabulol nang kaunti hindi ko na iintidihin kung bakit ako tatawa
gaya ng kapag nasa bahay ako hindi ko naiisip panoorin ang Gandang Gabi Vice ni Vice Ganda
o tuwing gabi naaalala ang lupit at pagsambulat ng liwanag sa Nighthawks ni Hopper
ano ba ang silbi ng lahat ng pagphophotoshop at pagpapa-vintage ng pictures sa tumblr
gayong ‘di naman nila nagawang piliin ang tamang taong tatayo sa lilim ng puno sa takipsilim
o maging ang awit sa bangketang hindi piniling maigi ng binatang makata gaya ng kung kanino
ang boses ng tula, sa bulag ba o bingi


mukhang nadaya sila at napagkaitan ng bagay na malaki ang pagka-astig at kamangha-mangha
na hindi masasayang at mawawala sa akin ngayon, dahilan kaya naman heto’t sinasabi ko sa’yo.


___
para kay Alex Pettyfer at sa kanyang abs. Bow

Off-center, part ii

Off-center, part i

I noticed that characters in Wong Kar-Wai's movies rarely find their way to the center of the frame. Technique man yun o mere ornament (not much likely), isa lang ang sigurado ko: para sa'kin lahat ng babae sa mga works niya ay Gorgeous (partly because of my bias for women in cheongsams). Of course, credit also goes to the cinematographer, Christopher Doyle.

Kahit na cigarettes are mega cliches by now, Idol pa rin.

*images from Days of Being Wild, In the Mood for Love, and 2046

Seng Guan Temple hall

where a gilded Buddha peaks
behind your back
where you look
is it nowhere or nearer
still I hold this in focus, steady
it becomes. It comes to me
an aperture tunnels a surface
that peeks into itself, a bottle
mathematicians fondly name after Klein.
Not much knowing nor arrived
in mind I hold it as a calyx
having no outside or inside, just
bounded, there resides that day
closing inward how can it
not find into another, then into this
the world being tendered
the night could not but open
into its scent, collapse of light in myself
reversing in spheres until they are walls
thinned in the lost distance to be won
before the poem on love is written.

___

Sunday Morning, Rain is falling... aka Son, I saw you've got rubber

So nag-aalmusal ako kanina, tapos biglang sabi ng Mom ko:
“Kahapon pala nag-aano ako tapos nakita ko sa bag mo, nakita ko may condoms. Gumagamit ka pala ng condoms? (hint of a subtly forbidding/inquiring tone)”

Ako naman pasimpleng “Oo...” ang sagot with matching tono tulad sa “Duh, obvious ba...” Hindi na ko nakapag-isip nang mabilisan, sayang tuloy ang chance na humirit ala Vice Ganda (Ay hindi Ma, hindi ko ginagamit, nilagay ko lang yan para naman may makita kang kakaiba for a change dahil alam kong ina-"ano" mo yung bag ko. Tapos lalabas si Ashton Kutcher at sisigaw ng You just got Punkd! )

Pero ganito yung lalabas na ashton kutcher haha.


Patay malisya lang acting ko pero syempre kinabahan ako, syempre hindi naman dun natatapos ang ganitong usapan. You know moms, impossible yun. So kambyo ang ermats,
“Hindi naman masama gumamit ng condoms, mabuti nga yun....
“Pero kasi hindi ka naman nag-uuwi ng girlfriend dito, baka makabuntis ka. Yung anak nga di ganyan blah blah. Kung kailangan mo ng condoms, marami kami (nurse kasi mom ko).”

Pak! Narinig ko si Buddha at lahat ng Bodhisattvas na nagchorus sa pagtatawanan at pagkanta parang Glee, oo chong, narinig ko ang halakhakan nila kahit hindi ako buddhist, ganun pala ang pakiramdam. Parang scripted ang mga pangyayari, parang play lang at sa nagsulat ng plot na ito, taena, ikaw na! Ikaw na ang witty.

Kaya naman pala kagabi panay ang text ni ermats sakin dahil gabi na daw at pauwi na daw ba ako. Aha...
Tama naman ang (unspoken) hula niya, nasa date nga ako.
So apparently:

1. Either my mom was faking it and was waiting for me to say it, or wala talaga siyang idea na bading ako. Kung sinabi ko na lang kayang wag siya mag-alala na hindi naman ako makakabuntis dahil hindi naman babae ang tipo ko? Tambling siguro sya nun. Ewan ko, para lang siguro to get it over and done with. But that’s a bit cruel, I know. Does the shock of finally hearing it change though? Can you ease that? I have no idea.

2. Pero ito ang bongga talaga: nag-offer pa siya na bigyan ako ng stash ng condoms, which means, she’s totally ok with it. Early twenties naman na ako haller, anyway. Tanungin ko kaya siya kung meron silang extra thin for maximum sensation or yung ribbed for extra pleasure?

Now I have a simple idea for a coming-out scheme. Instead of putting a burden on myself to find the right time, I’ll pass it to my mom. *Evil laftir* Iwan ko na lang ang cellphone ko at hayaan kong mabasa niya ang “suspicious” text messages. Then, either it’ll just be an open secret of the family or she asks the question when she’s finally ready to hear the answer. Or should I feel responsible and finally man up?

Fix you

It was the performance that first made me understood dance really as an art form, and I didn't expect seeing it from a TV contest. But there it is. I haven't seen much else actually so I wouldn't be able to critique refined techniques and judge according to corresponding standards. Alam ko lang tumalab sakin yung piece.

Snapshots of awesome parts of the routine:

Premise

The two pictures above and below are continuous. Beautiful arm movements. This has a symmetry I cannot put my finger on. When she emerged from the hoop of his arms with that expression and momentum, I knew right at that moment the choreography was going to special.

The climax of the music begins. Fast, fully-extended movements and the dancers pull themselves into the other half of the stage. The usage of space was subtle to me yet so amazing. It was able to delineate a different ground/span of time where the dancers then entered into a synchronized duet, suggesting a (temporary) resonance between the two characters.

What flight. Shit. Let's just call this move: So fucking amazing please teach me to dance too.

With her back turned on him, she launched herself in the air relying on him to ran forward at just the exact moment to catch her. Caught in his shoulders, the arc of her body suggested heavy burden. Now that image is already perfect, but imagine the actual requirements (e.g. trust) for the dancers to able to perform that. Ugh. Crazy people.

Ugh again, because it transitions to this immediately. This actually happened fast like a snapshot, not unlike a lapse.

The throws then become sick integral to the narrative. Look at her.

Then, the tone quiets down together with the music. Notice that the two are back again on this part of the stage, facing in that particular direction. The expansiveness we've previously witnessed deflates and the irrevocable creeps in. On the ground, with his forehead he nudged the back of her legs forward (probably, I was tearing up then for the last 30 seconds). That gesture is utterly priceless.

And then shet lang, tanginang power ending: he embraced her and slipped his feet beneath hers, he began to guide her steps slowly as they walked as one. Combined with the expression of the characters and the two performers' commitment to that final emotion (they kept on going after the music almost to the edge of the platform), its sheer impact made me reel back and blink stupidly after some time. Yung tipong parang bawal ka muna makaramdam ng kahit ano, ng iba pa for a short period.

I can't embed the video here so just check this link. May better HD versions if you search for urselves. The choreography (billed 'contemporary' btw) set to Coldplay's Fix you is by Travis Wall, performed by Robert Roldan and Allison Holker. Robert, please marry me. KThnksBye. Haha.

At dahil dito, may natutunan akong term: Negative space. In this context, from what I understand, negative space refers to when little to no motion is presented for longer-than-normal period of time. It's when the mood, facial expression or posture are highlighted, I guess. Awesum.

If you've watched Talk to Her (Hable con ella) ni Pedro Almadovar.. ang galing lang nung paggamit niya nung opening na dance na "Café Müller" by Pina Bausch. Pero ibang level na yun, di ko na yata ma-aannotate yun.

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The Multiple-choice Guide to Practical Hooking-up

Pick your favorite pen or pencil. Play quirky song for dysfunctional people. Dance, dance, dance.


1.
a. Introduce yourself but never give away your real full name, maybe just parts of it to ease conscience.
b. Change/add letters to your name, from Mark to Marc, John to Johann. Do not insist on Alexandra if you’re an Alexander. This is not advisable.
c. Only coolly inquire for his name at the end of it all. Then add him straight away on Facebook using your real life account.

2.
a. Maintain proper distance while exercising politeness and the obligatory show of interest during conversations.
b. There will be moments of awkward silence. Do not be bothered if he feels bored, as long as things appear to lead to your getting inside his pants.
c. There will be moments of awkward silence. You want to keep him interested in you, he seems smart, not to mention cute. Rack your brains desperately for a good topic. Failure should lead to regret, success wins you his smile which you receive like a trophy.

3.
a. Avoid sleepovers. Grab the first opportunity to go. If you can leave even with the rubber on, kindly head to the nearest exit.
b. Let him lean on your chest as you watch a rom-com or a chick flick. Before this, he heats leftover adobo in the microwave, your feet dangle from the edge of his bed unknowingly swinging in the widest of arcs.
c. Maybe, even hold his hand as both of you doze off. Be endeared when he snores.

4.
a. After the deed, avoid communication for at least 3 days. Otherwise, you will appear clingy.
b. Mask your replies with pretensions you are only after being fuck buddies.
c. Ask him an hour later if you’ve left behind something very valuable at his place (e.g. mint candies).

5.
a. You have a short-term memory and you always put it to good use. This is called being rational.
b. Google is your friend. Type in his name and tirelessly go through the results. Repeat 3 times a day. This is called being obsessed.
c. Meeting a person of his kind, you quickly find out, is like being thrown a lucky bone. Will you call yourself naive or fortunate?

6.
a. Hey, you want trade movies sometime?
b. Hey, you want trade movies sometime? :-P
c. Hey, you want trade movies sometime? hehe

7.
a. Manage expectations. Having next to nothing is optimal for peace of mind.
b. Debate on the idea of dating. Suddenly, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, out of fear, out of his presumed judgment, coming to you in waves.
c. It will either be due to the circumstances or in spite of. In this summer heat, is there a mirage that (con)fuses both?


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How to say "I love you" accdng to Ayn Rand

"Because love is an expression of self-esteem..."

For some weird reason nagkaroon naman pala ng matinong content ang Playboy at one time. (wushu sasabihin ko kaya to kung Playgirl instead? lol) Nagpublish sila ng interview with the philosopher/novelist Ayn Rand. Medyo nagresonate kasi sakin yung mga sinabi niya kahit wala pa kong nabasang works niya previously.


Excerpt:

PLAYBOY: Where, would you say, should romantic love fit into the life of a rational person whose single driving passion is work?

RAND: It is his greatest reward. The only man capable of experiencing a profound romantic love is the man driven by passion for his work -- because love is an expression of self-esteem, of the deepest values in a man's or a woman's character. One falls in love with the person who shares these values. If a man has no clearly defined values, and no moral character, he is not able to appreciate another person. In this respect, I would like to quote from The Fountainhead, in which the hero utters a line that has often been quoted by readers: "To say 'I love you' one must know first how to say the 'I.'"

PLAYBOY: You hold that one's own happiness is the highest end, and that self-sacrifice is immoral. Does this apply to love as well as work?

RAND: To love more than to anything else. When you are in love, it means that the person you love is of great personal, selfish importance to you and to your life. If you were selfless, it would have to mean that you derive no personal pleasure or happiness from the company and the existence of the person you love, and that you are motivated only by self-sacrificial pity for that person's need of you. I don't have to point out to you that no one would be flattered by, nor would accept, a concept of that kind. Love is not self-sacrifice, but the most profound assertion of your own needs and values. It is for your own happiness that you need the person you love, and that is the greatest compliment, the greatest tribute you can pay to that person.


***

Bam! Ayn Rand, gusto ko for the most part yung sinabi mo eh, tagos eh, kaso kung susundin ko to the letter, parang magiging matagal pa bago ako magkaroon ng love life, haha. Ampf, walang namang ganyanan.

Share ko lang: Nung lumabas yung playboy dito sa Pinas, bumili ako actually ng copy. Lesbian, yikes!

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPod touch]