Notes on a Party

• Never rush up the elevator without talking to the concierge. And the elevator would only let us up to the 5^th floor. Used the stairs and at the landing, doors can not be opened from our side. Had to go down again. Attendant has card key. Epic!

• Officially my 2^nd gay party.

• First reaction: WTH?!? Servers in wifebeaters. I suspected the worst (or the best ) and immediately texted my housemates, emotional support came pouring in.

• Soju shots almost every 5 minutes. Soju is 20% alcohol. Had to take a shot in 3 gulps already well before midnight. The sink got clogged in puke, thankfully not mine.

• Theme song: John Mayer’s “My Stupid Mouth.” A room full of gay guys is a perfect conductor for gossip.

• Furtive glances.

• Strippers indeed.

          Strippers indeed, indeed.

• Got curious, had to tiptoe and crane my neck above the wall of frontliners. Meh. Didn’t excite me that much, wait, this is supposed to be my thing right? Self-doubt ensues. But really, not my thing, that at least I found out. (For now, maybe?) If they had touched each other....

• He gave me an 8 out of 10. I didn’t even say thank you. Ako na ang autistic at king of awkward. A quicker wit for socializing is urgently needed.

• Now, I carry mints in my pocket all the time. Why is this?

• Not-so-furtive glances.

• A kiss or two. And not with the same person. I think I enjoy kissing, but would enjoy it more if people don’t give it so easily. Even better (pronounced “evan bettah” a la Emma Watson as Hermione) if we’re on some connection.
• I really, really love their company but sometimes I get the feeling that random kisses and pairings are parts of the bargain. Am I giving off a certain impression? Would I be considered a phony and a hypocrite?

• Sober and not a hint of an incipient hangover. Level up! All them weaklings. HAHA.

• Wee hours of the morning and the Baklaan death/pride march (hey bading kami, exaggeration is in order) towards McDo near Shaw station. On the way, guy in a car stared full at our direction for a few seconds, midway a U-turn, o-ha! As they say looks could kill, good thing the roads were empty or he’d have become a real casualty.
• Breakfast menu showed up on the counter as I heaved past the heavy doors. Big breakfast! Dozing off. The Gibbs Cadiz and Les Miserables freebie, thanks!

• Today's score: Aleph vs Aleph, 0-2. Because I consider myself as the winner.

At fumafabcast si Aleph

Explore mode ako recently, at tulad ng sabi ko sa isang kaibigan, pakiramdam ko na-ooverhaul ng kaunti ang buhay ko.

Kinikilala ko kasi yung sarili ko bilang isang gay individual at paano ko ba gusto mag-grow as such. Lagi kong ni-reremind sa sarili ko not to lose myself. Hindi naman sa pagiging too careful, pero I try to take everything with a grain of salt.

Ang dami ko kasing ngayon lang na-eexperience or naririnig from conversations. First I thought, it's because I'm not used to this kind of gay culture. That it's different per se. Pero after a while, I realized that it's just like with straight people. One can draw similiarities actually, make comparisons. (But let me make a disclaimer that I'm not a fan of insisting on hard-coded differences when it comes to sexuality.) In both groups, there are those who go to parties and meet people, may mga flirt, may mga promiscuous din etc, the list goes on and on. My closest friends reside on the less rowdier part of the spectrum, so even if I am a "newly-out" gay guy, I want to believe that's where my sensibilities lie. I know I lack a lot of experience especially when it comes to relationships but it's important I think to find early on a kind of anchorage. Right? Yung tipong alam mo na: ahh, dito ko gusto manggaling, I will approach things from this perspective. Yung tipong kaya mong to "go with the flow" pero yung hindi ka naman matatangay completely.

But that doesn't mean I am not open to friendships. From the few times I went out with a group of gays, sobrang ang saya-saya talaga. And aside from that, lagi akong may nararanasang meaningful for me, really. Siguro I've learned the value of opening yourself to people more, connections can be amazing (not necessarily romantic) even with people you've just started to know.

Kaya segue ako to this semi-kind of plugging hehe, I had the pleasure of tagging along sa isang fabcast ni Migs the Manila Gay Guy and the Fabcasters lot. I met him kasi included ako sa isang meetup ng mga blogreaders niya (s&s3). Ang dami kong nakikilala, gusto ko silang maging kaibigan!
Here's the link.
http://manilagayguy.net/2010/12/28/fabcast-show-me-the-meaning-of-being-lonely/
May part 2 pa!

Masayang magulo. Soundtrack ng holidays ko ngayon yang "Off the Wall" ni MJ. At dahil pumipilosopo ako ngayon, yun phrase na "off the wall" won't make as much sense to me, probably, without the idea of a "wall". Yung homo aspect ng wall na yun ang kinikilala ko pa ngayon. Hi, Wall!

I'm off to a party later, actually. And I'm bringing every part of myself, 100%, not just the part of me that's gay, wall and all.


So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf
And just enjoy yourself
Groove, let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all
If you live it off the wall

Captcha

Last message sent 12:45 AM.

I’m here in Manila and he’s where the weather is more capable of making up its mind. Snow if it’s supposed to snow. Reasonable, because called-for by the season which is understandable. Unlike here, where I can easily be cold, not being used to it, and on another night, wake to sweat greasing wherever hair meets bed.

Here, fortunately, we get on mostly by being cheap, and if it’s more than what we can afford, there are more than enough ways to get a compromise in our favor. We have a strong sense of property, make no mistake, but only on things that’re ours. Like the change in my pocket, the front windows are lighted hence the incessant jingles, dry like prayers in masses I don’t attend anymore.  Dim the lights. OK. Verify that I’m human. Download. I’d rather spend an hour waiting for this to finish. That’s all needed nowadays for a simple chuckle, a laughing out loud (though not to the point of rolling on the floor naked), occasional slight tugs on the heart, or a welling-up of something leaden down your chest, too. No more walks, well we really can’t, even if we want to. To watch the same movie is enough. We pride ourselves on our simplicity and the minimal requirements for our salvation.

Have you watched it?

Watched it. Always we like beginning with the economy of words. Everything fine? Fine, how’re you there? Here, still ok, good. Good. It’s a habit distance necessitates, that it replicates itself, otherwise a collapse. We are learning to appreciate transitions: courtesies, deflections and delays, testing if the other’s really there, what comes forward or retreats. Eventually, one gives in.

The last one’s a hardcore which he recommended after our pitiable success on cybersex. Both of us were on the floor, naked, sitting against the edge of our beds. My hands got confused, my hardness got lost between all the enter, backspace and up-down strokes. This time however, we start it as we’ve watched it on the video. He mimics a director saying something along so what are you both up to until why don’t you two start whenever you’re ready. I tell him I am kissing him gently and sense the gradual swelling inside his "trousers". He’s turns aggresive and pins me down on the bed, but shyly I warn him there’s the hint of bitter city fumes on my neck. He is pleased. He says he’s tracing the trail of hair that starts down my navel which thickens as he goes lower. I assert I know how to return the favor, you know, so I do. He goes wild. I say to him we need to slow down. And to my joy, he refuses. He says he’s on top me now and that my knees are up to my shoulders. I ask him please take it slowly and he grants my request like the gentleman that he is. We both say how warm: his, sliding inside me lengthening, and mine, taking in opening and closing in on him. He commands that I reach up and kiss him. No problem. Then I pull him down lower so that I feel his full weight on me. He tells me he’s nearly there and I reply I could tell by the way his thrusts are quicker yet they linger. I hold him from behind with both my hands, and exhale you’re so good I don’t even need to touch myself much. I remember the breathlessness of his face, his forehead creasing, I hold it in my mind.

A moment. Then, I let go.

You could say we’re conservative, we both love missionary. After a short pause, a message from him comes up: Finally! 


Finally, I repeat to him, with the small happiness of small confirmations.  Not as good as the real deal though, we both admit. I’d really like to “cyber-cuddle” you know, but I have to go. Sad face emoticon, man-whore, he jokes he feels used. Go then, go. Smiley.

I remember our agreement that Under the Tuscan Sun is just as bad as the Harry Potter series but who cares, we love them anyway, and then our ecstatic ravings about Chungking Express, that until he comes back, I’ll be waiting for that ticket.

This is still great, I mean, us.

I’m idling on the keyboard thinking of something funny to add because this is too mushy, even for me. The cursor blinks. A small icon says he’s typing, so I wait. Too long, he’s hesitating, must be backspacing. What’s he going to say?  The icon stops but nothing shows up.  Fuck. Fear. Disbelief. Name it. All in just a space of a second.

Then, there on the small box, appears suddenly a very short answer: Us.

Before I could even say something back, he logs out. So I find myself looking out of the window into the evening; I like looking out windows. I haven’t been feeling like myself lately, not until now.

Male or female.

I dance alone I describe myself, in big empty rooms, in stairwells, in roads laced with the humid evening’s heat all I understand is that I don’t understand I fear a path dancing between the canal and a street of low houses. Are you male or female, you ask, not holding my hand, tremolo and delay I am electric sometimes. Some nights like these, every fortnight perhaps, everything means nothing, which probably means my dog goes, she goes, I go, You go, so there you go with my thought of the day. Brilliant. By the way, I live in the past and in language. How is it there in the present? Tick-tock. How was it? But I’ve already come to know it before, during and after you speak. So please keep your distance, maybe the future can hold you. Me, I only trust numbers but only up to 1,2,3,4. Those are my bestfriends, besides I was born with a missing finger. My motto is to cut the remaining ones off when the right time comes. And then finally, if I could go anywhere, I would go where there are two moons, one for each of us, but not before goodbye, my favorite form of transportation. I hook my soul to a pole and stick it in the ground like a waving flag. It ticks like a metronome to which I sing the blues: Oh my, how I would like to die, after an image, maybe of a house on a train passing-by. The windows are darkened with silhouettes of people dancing, and toasting glasses of brandy. All these people and I happen to know each by his shadow. I dance with my own on my moon with the help of the sun and bid them Goodbye. Why, here in the past, it is such a lovely place to shudder with the memory of hands that almost held one another. 

***

I wrote this after a meme where the game is to answer random questions with song titles from your favorite band. More of an exercise hehe, non-sequiturs and parataxis. The point I think is that coherence is as much of an interpretation for a reader as chaos is. 

Sa tagalog, walang basagan ng trip.

Jogging sa Yuufee at emoness fit

Nalilito na naman ako sa complexity ng bagay-bagay. Ang restless bigla ng pakiramdam ko. Ang dami kasing nangyayari sa'kin lately. 


Solution: Kaya nga nagjogging na lang ako kanina. Hindi naman ako health conscious, nagjojog ako minsan to  clear my head. Saka alam ko endorphins boost your mood (saka para mangcheckout ng guys, hala!). Ang saya kasi at nadiskubre ko na yung optimal pace ko kanina. Steady lang, far in between lang yung walking/rest periods ko at tsiken na lang ang 1 buong ikot sa oval. Hindi ako na-awkwardan sa posture ko, feeling ko nga ang macho ko (syempre delusion lang, malay ko ba mamaya in reality sobrang stiff pala ng galaw ko eh). Pero kasi yung right knee ko parang may permanent injury, sumasakit sya after some time tuwing tatakbo ako. Damn. Gustong-gusto ko pa naman yung tumatakbo with all I've got kahit maikli lang. Nung elem kasi nanalo ako sa 100m dash, at pag naghahabulan kami ako yung hindi nila mahabol kasi may acceleration powers ako. Yabang eh noh?


Ganito na lang. I believe in myself because I have to, and that this is necessary to be able to believe in others. 


So magshashare na naman ako ng tula dahil kailangan kong panindigan ang pagiging emo ko.


Eto ang Horses ni Arkaye Kierulf

I believe in trees.

I believe in birds that live in trees.

I believe that behind every one bird is a sky forever expanding.

I believe all windows look out to the same sky.

I believe in keeping secrets.

I believe there is sincerity in lies.

I believe when the lights go off the furniture keep to their places.

I believe in faith.

I believe that if you believe hard enough you will soon enough be saved.

I believe in walls. That we need them.

I believe in open spaces, that we need them more.

I believe once in a while we crave loneliness.

I believe we need sadness.

I believe in the soft cave of the mouth, in what it has to say, savage and comforting.

I believe in roads and streets, that they lead to ruins.

I believe violence is a plea for mercy.

I believe in the heart's destructive implosions.

I believe behind every painting or picture is a white canvass, complete in itself.

I believe philosophy is difficult and silly; I prefer instead small delicate things like a knife.

I believe Plato's forms do not exist.

I believe behind every space is just another space, and behind that just more space, and so on.

I believe in clouds.

I believe in the divinity of clouds.

I believe mathematics is useless and noble.

I believe in numbers.

I believe that behind all distance is an admission of connectedness, that all space admits of openings.

I believe that everything is open.

I believe inside every mind is an open gun waiting to go off.

I believe the mind is a gun.

I believe behind every face is another face is another face.

I believe some of us would like to be saints but cannot.

I believe some women are virgins.

I believe some women would like to be virgins.

I believe in the inviolable and the insane.

I believe in the quiet dignity of horses.

I believe in the benefits of buying a house.

I believe every house should be surrounded by trees.

I believe in this century, that it is not yet over, that we are on the verge of yet another discovery

I believe our many voices thin out into only one voice.

I believe in the end, but only if it fuels the past to continue expanding.

I believe in the layering of clothes, one on top of another, in the Victorian style.

I believe in skirts and lingerie and long black hair and virtue.

I believe in sin.

I believe in the woman under the man and vice versa.

I believe in the invisible hand, in the wind that lifts the bird and elevates the sky.

I believe in love without proof.

I believe in landscapes.

I believe that behind all love is all love itself, pure and soft and intense.

I believe in things so huge we forget what they're about and why.

I believe in things so small that it's taken us all these years to realize we've seen nothing.

On Blossoming

Isang tula galing sa makatang si Louise Gluck

The Red Poppy

The great thing

is not having

a mind. Feelings:

oh, I have those; they

govern me. I have

a lord in heaven

called the sun, and open

for him, showing him

the fire of my own heart, fire

like his presence.

What could such glory be

if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,

were you like me once, long ago,

before you were human? Did you

permit yourselves

to open once, who would never

open again? Because in truth

I am speaking now

the way you do. I speak

because I am shattered.

***

Sobrang floored ako nung una ko 'tong nabasa. As in yung napanganga ako sa putanginang ending ni Gluck, ang ganda-ganda kasi. Yung collection to which this poem belongs ("The Wild Iris") won a pulitzer and why shouldn't it? Nagtatalaban kasi yung mga tula, hindi lang sila mga cinollect na tula page after page. Yung lugar mo bilang tao napapagitna sa engagement between plants, gardener/god, snake, etc. (sorry walang zombies)

Naalala ko bigla itong tula na'to kasi last night I was lucky enough to be in the company of people whom I can relate to in an unprecedented way. Some of those things I never thought I could voice out or share, nagawa kong sabihin out loud. (Ang tawag don Peer Pressure, haha)

Naramdaman ko ulit na teka may puso nga pala ako, and of course, not just in a romantic way.


When I read this poem again just this morning, it felt different this time, parang naglimpse ko lalo yung multiplicity ng meaning ng tulang ito. Right now, I've never been happier to say that yes, I too am shattered.

And not in an emo, blade-on-the-wrist way. Wasak.

Di Sinasadya

Pag-uwi ng kaibigan/housemate ko (si N.) kagabi galing sa party niya, napakwento bigla. Kasi nagtapat na daw personally yung kaibigan niya (si J.). Actually, bago nito, nagselos kasi si J nang biglang malamang may nililigawan na babae ulit ang kaibigan kong si N, months after ng breakup with a long-time girlfriend . Nagtampo si J at hindi kinibo si N for some time, nagparinig pa nga ata sa fb.

Gwapo talaga si N, lapitin talaga yun ng mga tulad natin sobra (pero kaibigan lang talaga tingin ko sa kanya). Eto namang si J, siguro dahil parehas sila ng interes at magkatrabaho pa sila, hindi naiwasang mahulog kay sa kaibigan kong si N. Hirap nun, feelings ay feelings, hindi mo sinasadya, pero naiisip ko parang kasalanan din ni N kasi alam naman yang straight si N, bakit binibigyan niya ang sarili ng false hope. Tapos inaaya pa ni J ang kaibigan kong si N na mag-Cambodia nang silang dalawa lang. Tapos kagabi sinabi din niya pagdating daw ng panahon, baka si N naman ang maghanap. Parang may mali yata dun, parang self-delusion.

Sometimes I ask if homosexual desire is inevitably bound to situations like these. Ang ideal na relationship ba talaga natin ay with a straight guy? Inaapproximate lang ba natin itong ideal na 'to by entering into a relationship with another gay guy? 

Nanonood kasi ako ng "The History Boys" na may homosexual theme (muntik pa akong maluha sa isang scene) nang datnan ako ni N kagabi. Di alam ni N na gay ako, hindi ko pa nga rin alam kung paano ko ba sasabihin sa set of friends namin.

Paano natapos ang usapan namin? Napablurt-out sya bigla ng, bakit kasi ang daming bading sa literature?

Sa sobrang talab ata sakin (ang lungkot kasi nung movie na yun, ang ganda-ganda rin), naFreudian-slip ako nang di oras. Nasagot ko sya bigla ng hindi nag-iisip, SORRY NAMAN! In the most defensive tone that even I surprised myself.

Alam na.