I Won't Sail Ten Thousand Shores

I remember when I was younger, I used to think about myself more than anything else. I studied hard to please myself. I worked hard for myself, not for my parents or family or for anyone. Then everything changed in one moment.

I knew him.

We used to hang out a lot. I can vividly recall how we sat down by a bank on the pavement in their village just talking about our favorite cartoon characters, TV shows and silly things.

Our topics became more mature with each cycle. We never really ran out of subjects but we reached our first argument.

"Would you consider it treachery if your friend treated you more than what you think of it?"

He stopped for a moment. He contemplated. He is smart. He knew what I meant.

It was lately that I never thought of how I would do for the rest of the day, but of how it would be when we see each other at the end of it.

He is my unabridged translated version. The very same dramatic core with a tough shell. And I was afraid that I've breached his barriers the same way he did mine.

Let's not talk about it.

That was the last of his words to me. He flew to a distant place that no man will ever dream of going. He was resilient though. I'd always know that he could be on his own absent company. Because that's very me.

And even on the coldest, darkest of nights, I won't have any urge. I won't feel. I will be numb. I won't long for him. I won't sail ten thousand shores.

Because I know, deep down in my heart, it will be a stretchy journey.

But it won't be worth it.

posted from Bloggeroid

The Midnight Affair

Chapter One: The Awakening

I never thought that Dianne and I would get married. Bago pa man maging kami, our relationship as lovers probably was the toughest. We fight like cats over where to dine (more like forcing the other to decide) or even on the simplest matter of saying our goodbyes that never really end.

I would almost be as ashamed to mention that when we were still teenagers, I'd always get bullied because of my physique. Guys would continue to talk to her despite the fact that we are holding hands, like they don't even notice me. Yung ibang tao kinikilig pag nakakakita ng cute couples. Well, we are not that perfect fit.

Langit siya. She has an angelic face, the "opo, Ma" type that boys would always want to wind for attention. I didn't know how we ended up together.

Oh, yeah. I remember. Dahil lagi na lang akong natutukso, I keep away from them bullies everytime na bakante ang schedule ko. I go to the library. Alam kong walang pumupunta masyado dun. I enjoy the company of books and the cobwebs that cover the (abandoned) bookshelves. One time, hindi ko inaasahan na may tao na pala sa likod ko. That was Dianne. She looked at me eerily. Hindi ko alam kung bakit. No, she didn't look, she examined me. Yun pala, I caught some cobweb on my nose. Damn, akala ko hahalikan niya ako. Feeling ko lang pala yon. Pero kinabahan ako ng sobra na hindi ko maintindihan. From then on I started stalking her. Maybe, just to catch that feeling again.

She may have noticed me. Pero siguro dahil mabait lang talaga siya, she started a conversation. A conversation after another. Isa yun sa mga naging dahilan kung bakit na-ban kami ng dalawang buwan sa library. We just had so many things to talk about.

Minsan pauwi na ako. Then out of nowhere, bigla na lang kasabay ko siya papalabas ng school gate. "Sabay tayo," sabi niya. Napangiti ako at palihim na nagdasal na sana wala munang jeep na dumating. Pero malas, may dumaan. Sa jeep, bigla na lang siyang sumandal sa balikat ko. I don't know why she did that. But it felt nice. I felt the need to keep her head comfortable hanggang sa makababa siya.

At ang sandal sandal, nauwi sa holding hands, sa halikan. Siya ang una ko at ako ang una niya. Ang sarap ng labi niya. Parang hindi ko kayang tigilan. Madalas nag-iinit ang pakiramdam ko at gusto ko siyang hawakan sa iba pang bahagi ng katawan niya pero nakokonsensya ako pag gumagalaw na rin ang kamay niya. Pakiramdam ko hindi tama ang ginagawa namin sa edad namin.

Lumipas ang mga araw at nakarating sa mga kuya niya ang mga balita tungkol sa amin. Bunso si Dianne. Naturally, her brothers would feel protective of her. Inutusan ako ng kuya Lexi niya na pumunta sa bahay nila kung seryoso talaga ako sa kapatid niya. Nanliit ako sa sarili ko nung makita ko ang mga kuya ni Dianne. They are the people you would not - ever - want to cross. The muscled builts and towering stance would always get me stapled on their sofa. They were not really that nice but they tried. Pero pag nawawala ng sandali si Dianne, I would always see Lexi looking at me in an unfriendly way. Like he was scaling me and thinking that I'm someone who doesn't deserve his sister.

That was eight years ago.

Dumaan ako sa isang matinding, sabihin na nating makeover. Pinilit ko na mag-mukhang boyfriend material, yung tipong hindi na tutuksuhin. Kapag nakikita na kami ni Dianne noon, we always hear compliments like "Ang cute niyo naman tignan pag magkasama" or, "Bagay na bagay kayo." Nagkaroon ako ng confidence.

After college, I decided to join an architectural firm. Si Dianne naman, sa isang accounting office sa may Makati nagtatrabaho. Nagpapatayo ako ng bahay para sa aming dalawa simula noong maisipan naming magpakasal. After two years sa trabaho ko, nakapag-ipon na ako ng sapat para doon. Pansamantala, sa bahay nila ako nakatira. Our family moved to Laguna when I started going to college. Uwian pa rin ako so her dad suggested na dun na lang muna ako sa kanila para makatipid daw ako. Anyway, may tiwala na sila sa amin at sa isang bubong na rin naman kami papunta ng anak nila. Kung sa akin lang, kaya ko mag-drive araw araw papunta sa Laguna. Pero gusto ko rin maranasan na mahiwalay sa pamilya ko, para na rin sanayin ang sarili ko.

I found the setup to be extremely beneficial. Halos lagi kami magkasama kaya ang mga balakin namin para sa kasal ay naiplano ng maayos. Pagkatapos naming magpakasal ay nag-leave kami upang mag-honeymoon sa isang isla sa Pacific Ocean. Napakasaya ng mga sandaling iyon. Believe it or not, that was the first time that we had sex. It was liberating. Parang bagong bahagi na naman ng relasyon namin ang nadiskubre namin.

Pagbalik sa Pinas ay napakaraming nagtatanong kung kelan kami magkakaanak. Inaasahan na sa dalawang buwan ay makakalipat na kami sa Makati, sa aming bagong bahay. Hindi muna namin binalak ang baby dahil hindi pa kami nakakalipat at hindi pa replenished ang bank accounts namin matapos ang mga gastos. Tuwang tuwa na sa akin ngayon ang pamilya ni Dianne at maging ang mga magulang ko. Maging ako ay natutuwa. Malaking accomplishment na ang mga nagawa namin thus far.

+++

Isang restday, Dianne went shopping with her friends. May sale daw sa isang malaking mall sa North Ave. Dahil hindi ako fan ng walang kamatayang pagsunod sa isang babae habang namimili, I declined to go with her. I opted to watch the TV and slouch. Hindi ko namalayan na nakatulog pala ako sa sofa. Maalinsangan ang hangin. I was halfway thinking na sumunod sa mall but the amount of people will put me on an eyestrain. Nagulat ako na nakita ko si kuya JB sa upuan na katapat ng sofa. Nakatingin siya sa akin. Nahiya ako dahil sofa nga pala ang hinihigaan ko. Masakit ang ulo ko dahil naalimpungatan lang ako at dala na rin ng init ng panahon.

"Sorry kuya, here, take a seat, I'll go upstairs," sabi ko.

"It's okay Mike. Mukhang pagod ka. I was looking at you because you don't look like yourself."

"What do you mean, kuya?" I'm puzzled.

"You look stressed. Na-try mo na ba magpa-masahe? Effective daw yun sabi ni kuya Lexi," he said, taking the remote from the coffee table.

"No, di ko yan susubukan. Not after what I've heard nung mag-inuman kayo last week," depensa ko.

"Crazy thinking, hindi 'yun' ang sinasabi ko. The legit massage," he said.

I shrugged and went upstairs with my one eye closed. Nung maramdaman ko na may kama, agad akong nag-dive at natulog.

Nagising ako when I heard someone shuffling the drawers. My drawers.

"Sino yan?" I asked. Padilim na at hindi nakabukas ang ilaw.

"JB. I was getting some underwear," he said.

It was very odd. Si kuya JB, kukuha ng underwear sa drawers ko?

"By the way in case you're wondering, you are sleeping in my room. Mukha kang zombie nung umakyat ka at hindi na ako nagtaka na nandito ka."

"Sorry kuya!" Nagmadali akong ayusin ang sarili ko pero binuksan ni kuya ang ilaw. Nakita ko siyang nakatapis lang ng tuwalya. He's soaked, water was dripping from his hair, from his chin, from his chest...

Stop. It was crazy na tinitignan ko ang pagbaba ng mga patak ng tubig sa katawan ni kuya JB. But it was enjoyable. But it was not proper.

"Ayos ka lang, bro?" Tanong niya. "Kwarto ko to. Can you just move to your room, magbibihis na ako eh," he said.

I thought he noticed. Kinusot ko ang mata ko and involuntarily, kinambyo ko ang alaga ko while walking away. It was so hard. I looked at him kung nakita niya yung ginawa ko. Napangisi si kuya. Nakaramdam ako ng hiya.

"Normal lang yan bro. Sige na dun mo na sa kwarto mo yan palambutin," he laughed.

Embarrassed, I left his room in a couple of seconds.

I thought over what I just saw and felt. I couldn't get my memory off his body. It was close to perfect. I never saw him that near before.

+++

Roughly four years ago I started working out. After classes, diretso na ako sa gym pagkauwi. You know this idea na meron kang isang body type na gustong ma-achieve after those strenuous sessions. I was thinking of kuya JB.

No, it was like an obsession. My mantra "gusto ko maging kasing built ni kuya JB" turned overly repetitive but it was effective. In less than four months I've achieved what I really wanted.

Pero sadya yata talagang hindi ako marunong makuntento. Even if the gym people tell me na I got nice chest, abs, biceps and all that, I still work-out for eighteen hours a week . One time, medyo late na ako nag-start dahil I had to finish reading before hitting the bars. Kahit na sobrang pagod, may sense of fulfillment lalo na kapag nalalagpasan mo ang quota mo sa sarili mo. I took a shower and went to the locker rooms but it was slightly open. I could hear a guy moaning from the ajar door. Out of curiosity, I slowed down my movements and tried if I could see them.

"Wag kang umungol, baka may makarinig sayo," sabi nung isang lalaki.

"Alas diyes na, wala ng tao dito. Kantutin mo pa ko, please.." sabi naman nung lalaking umuungol kanina. Nakita ko na nakatuwad siya at tinitira ng isa pang lalaki. Hindi ako makapaniwala sa nakikita ko.

Isang lalaki na kinakantot ng isa pang lalaki. Wala silang bahid ng kahinhinan. The idea was so repulsive but as I see them in front of me, unaware of my presence, it made me feel curious. And horny.

"Shit ang sikip mo, puta ka, ito ang bagay sa iyo," at binayo niya ng mabilis ang lalaking nakaluhod. Nakilala ko siya. Siya ang instructor ko.

Shit, sa isip isip ko. Kaya pala madalas ko siyang mararamdaman na parang sobra na sa hawak ang nagagawa niya. Sadya pala yun.

May mga narinig akong paparating, nag-uusap sila. Narinig din ito ng dalawang nagtitirahan at naalerto sila. Pumunta ako pabalik sa mga showers. Kinabahan ako para sa kanila. Tinagalan ko ang pagligo hanggang sa may kumatok na upang sabihan na magsasara na ang gym. Doon lang ako napalagay na wala na akong aabutan sa locker room.

+++

Gaya ng nangyari sa gym, di ako mapalagay. Ngunit sa pagkakataong ito, iba. Wala akong nakitang nagniniig. Nakita ko lang ang bayaw ko na nakahubo ng pang-itaas. Pero nakapagtataka na mas masidhi ang nararamdaman kong libog. Gusto ko himurin ang katawan niya.

At ngayon ko lang nalaman.

Hindi lang pala inggit ang nararamdaman ko noon kay kuya JB.

Ako ay nagnanasa.

Dilemma in District One

The train started to accelerate. We moved through a dark patch off to a wide river when I was temporarily isolated from reality. Finally, I am to leave District Two.

After heaving a sigh of relief (and numerous metal fences) we've reached District One. There is nothing remarkable in this place: The yellow and blue colors present in the city's square are the same hues that flood the eyes. I asked my sister if she brought the things on my list. She nodded while prodding her small bag.

I saw the bread inside her leather case but I resisted the urge to take it. The day is surely going to be long and we do not want to die of starvation in an unfamiliar place. Water sufficed, though it has to be used properly, too. Ahead of us is a stretchy journey than what we might have expected.

I closed my eyes. I felt the soft breeze brush my face and take my worries away.

We have the complete requirements, like proofs of residency and identification cards. Surely, the elections officer will permit our transfer.

That was what transpired, thank goodness.


PS: I hope I fooled a few of you to think that this was a vignette with The Hunger Games in mind. LOL

Epic and Emotional

Since its inception, I knew right away that being friends with you would be a dangerous path to tread on. We virtually talked for hours and days more than I talk to my ex boyfriends or anyone else I find interesting. If there was a comparison, you are the flagship product launching the newest Android OS in the market. You were always too high for me and I liked the way you held me gently, listened to me cry over the phone because of worthless guys and failed attempts on a relationship. You saw me try and you were always there to be the crying shoulder.

Days streched to weeks, weeks to months and our progress as friends remained like a transient power source, it is on for most of the time but glitches take us out of touch then, without forcing it, we reconnect stronger than before.

I like you very much. Sometimes, I felt that you liked me too, but you were too high and I can't believe that it would be possible. If ever it was so, I was afraid to lose that bond so I always stood miles away from the weird possibility of seeing myself with you.

I've always thought ahead of you, no matter how you say that I've too many grains to grind seconded with that familiar phrase "papunta ka pa lang, pabalik na ako" which clouds everything to dust. I knew that your tropa won't like me in as much as I think that you won't like me either and that adds up to the infinitesimal possibility of us being together, in spite of all the flirting that we did.

However, there was that one day when you took all the risk to tell me that you wanted to become my boyfriend. I was left in a state of shock for less than ten seconds. You smiled and I was never, more relieved to be blessed with a gentle and caring person like you.

We never worked out though. I knew at the beginning that things would be different with my attitude towards other guys and with the way you wanted to hold me at the neck. You are a jealous person, I kept on inking that to your chest through faded kissmarks. You took me away from that mainstream moment when nothing could ever brace me. I fell in love and it rocketed on a rocky surface. No amount of pleading would give you the pleasure and stimulus to forgive me.

Days passed and I hear you making side notes and anything sinister. When I confronted you, you told me it was nothing, that it ain't for me. Recently, I saw you talk to one of your colleagues over a stream and news snapped my heart.

Though as they say, all good things come with a price and for this matter, the price needed to be paid in cash. Yeah, we may have had that installment love affair which was fun if you ask me, but it is all over and I just hope that you do well with your new lover who I think is better than me in all aspects. He is a lucky guy to have you. I wish nothing but the best for you two.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless handheld

Detriment Diaries

Today I thought that being with a guy I barely knew would make me feel happy. I skipped my review class for there was something missing that morning. Orange juice, or the butter on the toast was unsalted? There was no way to figure it out.

We shopped some clothes and made out in the fitting room. Ate lunch, discussed matters.. It was then that I realized how the person lacked intellect. I was half thinking if we should pursue the movie; we watched anyway. He got really annoying because he wanted to hold my hand when I'm trying to encompass all the details while comparing it to the book. I gave him a smack which should have been enough for his silence yet he continued budging. I gave in to his request.

In truth, I have never felt lonelier than early today. Surviving from a deuce will never be my thing. There is always a wonder how I get conned when I know my capabilities well, when I know the capacity of my defenses.

Yet, without flicker, the sweet words gnaw my shield and corrode me.

Which leaves me the loser.

I never give someone more that six hours of my time if the person ain't worth it. Whatever this another experience told me, it is that I never really learn when it comes to trusting people in general. They befriend me, thus providing a room for more skeezy attempts, like taking things a notch higher. When matters get crowded, they just leave me like crap. Not even having a single damn about looking back, no respect to how I disclaimed the reversion to friendship should the step up conk out.

Whatever this another experience told me, it is that I'm the dumbest person when it comes to this arena. I present myself as the kingpin so when the ball goes rolling, I'm on the frontline of it. Having yourself reminded of the mistakes you made is not a happy advent, but a mordant.

When I think of those happy times, it makes me realize, how come trivial things always become the reason?

I just want something real in my life. I'm tired of these fancy things happening around me..

Are You Asleep?

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New Guy

Around a month ago, the caretakers of this apartment were replaced by the relatives of the owner. All of them are good looking -- the pair (lovely couple) and the brother of the girl. A hot hot borta who always likes to go up and down the building, topless. Hihi. First time we were introduced to them by the owner was over wine. Yes sosyal dito sa building namin 'pag welcome merong wine na nalalaman. Ching!

On my mind, I always refer to him as "kuya" so let that be carried on in this write-up. Kuya is mid twenty-ish, is fair skinned and has a tattoo of a name (I never intended to examine it, but it's a name of a girl yata) at the back of his muscled arm. Buffed up man.

My fascination of him started the first day after they moved in. It was early morning, I was to buy breakfast and I saw him, topless, cleaning the corridors and stairs with a wet mop. Good grace, if that's the first thing you see in the morning you'd be thrilled not to repeat it. Well, for my case. *boner alert* LOL

A couple of weeks after, those hot nights, I wasn't able to sleep on our lights off time, so I decided to go upstairs, to the rooftop, to get some air and bore myself to sleepiness. Went there and completely forgot of the CCTVs that were generously placed in the corners of the building. It was past midnight, and I could have cared less. When, alas, I felt the slowing down of my system, it was time to go down and sleep. I was half-thinking when... I saw him. He was on his way to the rooftop. I saw him from the top flight of the stairs and he was on the base. My mind was too slow to pay him any attention or anything that I just went past him without greeting. When we've passed each other, he called me.

Oi.

I stopped dead. He called me.

"Joe, diba? Matutulog ka na?"

And my mind went racing. He wanted to start a conversation.

"Opo, medyo masakit na po ang mata ko eh," I told him, sheepishly.

He stepped back, and with a swift movement, he cornered me in his arms. Damn. It was one of those crazy kilig scenes in Koreanovelas. LOL.

"I always see you looking," he told me.

"Maganda kasi ang muscles mo, nakakainggit," I told him honestly though with a little hesitation. Remember my brain is half-working. My hand went to his chest. "Dito, ang galing ng work out mo."

"Pero bakit sa utong ka lang nakahawak?" he inquisitively asked. "Bading ka ba?"

I was out of my mind, my hands were working on their own accord. I couldn't account for the subconscious. I just said, "Oo, may problema ba?"

"Wala." And his word was a trigger, I kissed his ears and smelled his hair.. Hmmm. It was poison to the blood. His smell alone made me feel horny. There was a tiny smile at the corner of my lips while they were moving from ears to the neck, neck to shoulder, shoulder to pits. I just needed to repeat to myself that he smells good. Probably went on a night shower, which gave me the impression that this was planned. Yeah, he saw me through the CCTV.

I could not let his nipples wait any longer. My fetish. It was so irresistible. I needed to move my tongue over it. Did it with pleasure and kuya was delirious. Left, to right. Licking is my forte. The tongue slid smoothly to the abs. It lingered in the treasure trail for a while.

Finally I was able to remove his shorts. I've been dreaming of that moment for roughly three weeks. The actuality of it seemed surreal which it is. Thoughts of it annealed my body some nights and that scene was the apex. No, not yet, but we're about to reach that.

His dick was already throbbing after I've stripped his bottom wear. It was pointing at my face.  I teased by licking the head and pinching the shaft with my thumb and forefinger to create tension. I didn't grab it yet. I wanted him to be at his hardest.

Then, I slowly tried to put it in my mouth. I was around three fourths the length when I've realized my limit. I'm not a good cocksucker. I thought to have disappointed him but his moans were enough to back me up. It gave me the ticket to know that I was doing a good job.

My tongue was playing with his shaft while it was inside my mouth. I was getting the drill. I tried to swallow but I can't, because it didn't feel good in the throat. But he gasped whenever I went deeper. He told me that he wanted to come in my mouth. Kuya was master. I licked his balls, his hips, and back to the hard member. I tried to keep a memory of his manhood: the size, the girth and of how it tasted. Ecstasy, it was, for it was my first this year. Hard and juicy. Just the way I liked it.

"Lapit na a--" he said, but even before he finished "ako", my mouth was already warm with his cum. I tried to contain all of it until I was able to spit it in the plant box near the terrace. I didn't intend to taste it, but it was sweet. I discarded the few left in my mouth, wiped off the substance in my lips.

I said thanks and I expressed my longing to sleep.

But when I was about to open the door, he took me by the hips...

Drown Me With Promises

Promises that you assure yourself of are most often like an infertile fig tree -- it won't bring any fruit.

Sometime, it gets all tiring. Because unfruitful causes are exhausting, and it just rips your vigor out. For the past months, I've always told myself, start studying, stop being a bitch, avoid your phone as much as possible, deactivate the Twitter account blah blah et cetera. Then days stretched to weeks and weeks to months with what? Nothing accomplished. Then I start disappointing myself.

Not that I wanted to drown myself with these empty promises but I think someone I've talked to over the phone gave me a recoil. Like that of a fired rifle. He named names which we both knew back in college and told me how they knew their habits well, how devoted they were to studying, albeit the intelligence and the confidence.

Then I started looking at meself: You are a dumbass book-smart person. You be asked anything related to your course and you'll give the answer in a mo. You passed and topped the center's diagnostic exams you've studied for half-asleep. In college, you crammed assignments and still got grades three notches higher than those who pulled up some effort. But you can easily chuck that out of the way because you're a slimy slothful scum who doesn't want to study. The one people curse because of being so effortless and easy.

However, these situations arise and make me feel timid, for the time is so ho hum, could have been arid at worst, almost (well, okay most of the time) not tickling my fancy. Promises notwithstanding, I can't coerce myself to choke in barren filth just so that I can flatter someone else's adroitness. Worse, I can't find my own.

My affiance not betray me, my assent not escape me, I surmise in the faintest of hopes that this time, I won't be dumb(er)ass crazy to screw it. A month of sacrifice must be worth it.

I'm Tired

Of this setup.

Of you.

I'm tired waiting for your calls to come. I'm tired waiting for the LED on my Blackberry to turn red. I'm tired of the games that we have tried to play.

The day you said that you love me was the happiest I've become after college. You never knew how sober I was, trying to escape the problems that have been chasing me. You were my rest. You were a refuge.

And now, rain starts pouring through you. The safest place I thought is now getting me unprotected. I don't want that.

I'm sorry, but I think...


I must leave you.

Wrappers

In a religion which believes that December 25 is a Pagan celebration of Jupiter, Sun God's birthday, the date is just like any other.

As kids, before fully discovering what things on the religion meant, we did celebrate Christmas. Sunny days these were -- parties and games. The worldly fun was subtracted of the supposed meaning. Perhaps the only things that reflected the substance were the opening prayer and exchanging of gifts.

Sunday was a grand celebration at the church. I learned that there were some sort of exchange gift portion for the kids. The activity started after lunch. Gifts of different colors can be seen at the center of the gathered children. A flashback of happy memories streamed like a torrent of liquid euphoria: There is some sort of gladness on seeing gifts, and excitement to know the contents of the wrapped bundle. No matter how big or small (of course, anticipation for the large packages are greater) these were, making the kids smile for one moment is priceless.

I asked my kumare that I'd bail on my godson's gift for the moment. I'd get back after the kid's birthday, leaving her some amount for supplies.

+++

I gave my boy a condom.

"What is this?" he asked.

"That is just the wrapper," and there was no second telling what the present was.

+++

Happy New Year!

She Lives Next Door

I am suffering from a medically unknown disease which binds the tongue when the mind is clouded with too much information. One doctor actually diagnosed me with dyslexia and after a keen research on this topic, was able to find several details about the disease. I do not suffer from this dyslexia thing.

"No, you can't just tell me a certain illness when I'm paying you the right amount here. Enough of this gambol," I said and without thinking twice, slammed the door to his office on my way out. The patients outside his clinic were terrified.

Unhappy with one doctor's resolution that I'm dumb (yes, that is how his diagnosis sounds to me), I sought the help of another person, this time, a linguist. She lives next door.

Warmly lighted and good-smelling, her house is. She accepts visitors by day and I felt deeply welcome with her bright yellow clothes and lavender wafting in the atmosphere. Her voice was soothing, every word she's saying calms me down like a hypnotic spell. Such a fancy.

"Talk," she convinced me, "about this picture that I'm holding." She gestured her fingers around the frame. While she was doing so, the trappings of her bracelet were moving back and forth. I swear to God I was distracted with the movement of her hands, and of the dangling bits in her accessory, that I cannot think of another way to verbalize my interpretation.

Closing my eyes was the best way to avoid seeing the cyclical drifting. I restructured the picture on my mind and tried imputing one of the millions of adjectives that can be located in a dictionary. However, for a trice the forces of nature might have collaborated to pull away the alphabet from my neurons and prevented me from pronouncing a single thread of my cerebration. I felt helpless and inutile.

Just when I thought I was doomed, bound for another judgment, I felt a warm mouth on my nape, to my ears, then, to my lips. I opened my eyes and kissed her. The feeling was insurmountable. We made out in her living room.

Three hours of pleasure passed, we cleaned ourselves and went back to business as if nothing ever happened. Words -- a plethora of verbal syntaxes -- started materializing in the form of my voice. At last, I'm able to speak my mind!

"'suppose all you needed was some good loosening up. Good job," she quipped.

My life was never the same from that day on. We would always have sessions either on her house or in my pad, but she leaves every weekend for some outdoor activity.

Before she left for the second weekend since we knew each other, I asked for her name.

Kayla. She beamed and winked at me with her heavenly features. I could only miss her so much, and wish that it was Monday again.

to be restructured
Post Script: I doesn't equate me. =)

Fubu Hits the Margin

I woke up that early evening to a text message:

Tara, dito tayo samin, wala si Kuya.

I immediately went downstairs for a shower; my mom might get back from the grocery store and that would bust my escapade. I took two pictures of meself: one before and one after the bath.

After gearing myself up, I checked my phone back and hiya~ two missed calls. This guy missed me, didn't he? I bought with me my wallet and a hanky on the way to his house.

I dropped by a 7/11 store to buy condoms and lube, since I was out of stock (read: sexless four weeks) and this night has a steamy and action-filled forecast. I took a jeep to their place which is actually less than a kilometer away.

When I reached his place, he had dinner served for me. I begged off the offer to dine with him, not that I didn't like it, but because I came there for a purpose and eating literal food was not it.

He looked a little disappointed. Did the drink have something in it? I don't know, and I don't care. I won't touch his concoctions. He moved towards me and gave me a hug. A tight koala hug. I was a little confused that I just went with the flow. No one was captain to the ship, and I let him start the engine.

"The hug is for what happened to you, I read in your blog," he whispered to my ear and he started licking the backside of it. Tingly. I pushed him away and I kissed him in the mouth. His breath smelled of mint. I took control this time, initiating a fencing of tongues. I tied him a cherry stem and he responded with a soft moan. We gravitated towards his sofa, we were still torridly kissing until he was laid down and I am on top of him, clenching the sofa for support.

I pumped with our trousers in proximity and in less than a minute, he manifested a boner. I teased him by borrowing lines from a porn read, "something wants to get out of there," pointing to the area with my lips. He kissed me again while he uncaged the snake inside. We both removed our shirts and I went to his nipples. I encircled it with my tongue and he let out another soft moan which turned me on.

After doing his two chests, I went down on his treasure trail, following it by my tongue down to the snake. It was salivating and ready to bite. I used my thumb to take the precum away and I started playing with the head of his cock. I don't know the drill because I'm not a good cocksucker so I withdrew after a minute. He didn't complain so I guess my performance was enough to satisfy.

It was his turn to please me. He let me lie on the sofa and took my shorts off after. He was a natural at foreplay: he knew where to navigate his tongue, the brisk transition from kissing to licking my torso, licking my neck and armpits, my abdomen and the treasure trail to the already hard member. He sucked my dick in a very pleasuring manner, savoring his saliva while letting some intentionally flow down the shaft, moving from the head to the balls and eating it whole. The lone sound of his attempts pumped more blood to my cock and I was delirious with his every dive and wicked slurp.

After servicing my member to its full hardness, we went back to kissing. I can never explain how kissing is vital to me, and he knew that fact before inviting me over. This time, he pumped while on top of me, creating friction between our groins. He definitely knew how to sustain an erection.

I temporarily suspended our tongue fight scene and pulled out the strawberry flavored condom from the pocket of my trousers. "Coat me," I mouthed. He gave a devilish one-sided grin and opened the pouch with his teeth. He played at the contents, pinched the end and unwrapped the protection from the head to the end of my shaft. I feel hornier seeing someone put a condom on me.

"Bend over," I commanded. He willingly did so, as he took over my place and I stood. I took the lube and toyed at his hole with my thumb. I felt for his time to relax and when his nerves settled, I attacked his opening slowly, until I got the whole of my dick inside him. He gave out a loud moan, but I didn't draw back, I pulled and pumped from a slow to a faster tempo. Our bodies were adjoined and he moved with my rhythm, followed the flow of my thrusts.

I asked him to lay flat on the sofa, like planking, and I entered him at that position. The tightness gave me a rush and I went berserk for I was about to come. I kissed him in the nape while pumping at my most controlled yet fastest, withdrew the condom and ejaculated at his back. He faced me and just in time, I spilled at his tummy, my manjuice. He started ejaculating and I kissed him until he finished his turn. Good charms, he smiled and I asked him if we could take the shower together.

The heat was not washed by the cold water flowing from his shower, we kissed and teased each other with the way we handled the soap. If we were on a glass encasement, steam would have formed.

After the shower, I dressed up and he asked me to stay for a while. I was puzzled, for whatever purpose I was there for had been met. I saw no reason to lengthen my stay.

"Joe, I think I'm falling for you," he said in a low note.

I looked down at him while he is sitting in the dining chair. I did not deliberate on his words. I shrugged. A fuck buddy connection is one with no strings attached. I reminded him of that on our first meeting over a year ago. His statement hit the margin, and so much happened over a span of two weeks that I cannot add this mess to the pile which is already present.

I didn't say a word. I just kissed him and said goodbye.

Five Hundred First September

If there is a sleeping pill, then you are the tablet that wakes me up.

Five hundred and one Septembers ago, you and I shared the same room, the same bed, the same blanket. When I open my eyes I would see your long eyelashes meticulously curved above your eyelids, refracting the little sunlight passing through the capiz window in my roomy quarter. The sight of your angelic, young face on an early Saturday morn is simply tonic to my hibernating veins.

We tread along the enervating garden of our youth: by summer, the May branches robustly picks its might, facing the unstirring sun with vigor; by rainy season, the June twigs fold themselves on the puffing gale; by calm Septembers, the earthlings move in and out of the ground to renew a daily need for movement.

Everything was going perfect between the two of us until one bizarre September, I saw you boarding a train with another man. I never asked, I never went to know, I just knew that seeing you leave on that train was coterminus with seeing you. It was an exclamation point bordering on an ellipsis and reaching the finality with a period.

It were those excruciating images of the leaving train and your entwined hands that are vividly haunting my sleepless Octobers up to this day.

You were the only girl that I hoped to be with for ten million more Septembers but the impossibility of a renewal is just as elusive as an aberrant apple tree in the center of the Sunken Garden, very unnecessary. Our future can be told by the dead leaf clinging on to a branch on the onset of a typhoon. I am waiting for the last ant to enter Noah's Ark devoid of further emotions as the Ark closes. By October I will be drowning.

If punishment is absolute, then leaving my sanity is worse. I only have you on my mind, and that is enough to cleave me for a million more Septembers of hits-and-misses.

The Twink-Cougar Love Affair

“belated..happpppppeeeee bertdei..wish u ol the best!!!”

There he was. After more than two weeks of hibernating in a deep hiatus called “Space Away from My Boyfriend”, he miraculously appeared in my facebook profile and gave me a surprise greeting I never counted on. If the medium is the message then his greeting was definitely an utter declaration of his preference to literally talk to the wall than directly to me which was quite consistent to his disappearance when he decided to join NASA to be an astronaut and explore his own space. Two weeks of no response to my messages which was previously accounted to his malfunctioning phone or insufficient balance to text to other networks (talk about cheap alibi), his uncalled for apparition was as sudden as Ricky Martin’s coming out of the closet: timely but unnecessary.

But more than the medium, it’s the language that gave me a feeling of humiliation on his behalf, the restricted kind that you get when while having a serious talk with a friend you see some slimy booger skidding out of his nostril. The way he spelled "happy" with 7 Ps and 5 Es, and the word "birthday" like a person who worships Salbakuta would pronounce and spell it, combining it with inappropriate use of punctuation.. marks.. and shortened spellings of "all" and "you" (cummon, he could have saved some effort typing Ps to spell them correctly ), I finally accepted what I had long been trying to deny to myself for two long weeks we were together: I fell in love with a jejemon.

All along, I thought that being 28 and having a five-year experience in my love resume would make me an expert in dating. But I guess my age and experience had only qualified me as a cougar when I got swept away by someone six years younger than me bearing an indubitable charm that masked his jejemonic tendencies. It was a whirlwind romance catapulted by our strong online connection. So strong I boarded a bus to Pampanga to meet him for the first time just barely two days after our first exchanges of messages in a social networking site exclusively for people like us (read: desperate lonely people like me.) On the third day of knowing each other, he introduced me to his best friend as his boyfriend. And that’s how, ladies and gentlemen, I learned for the first time that we were officially together.

Just like a futile investment in a network marketing, there was no turning back and I knew I was about to be doomed. There were red flags everywhere reminding me that the very foundation of our relationship was as strong as a cobweb trying to remain intact against the wind of typhoon Ondoy. We were so different in many aspects. It was like matching a kangaroo with a rabbit and expecting them to bear an armadillo. But I just simply brushed off these red flags consciously and unconsciously mainly because I enjoyed his company for the most part and, admittedly, I wanted to stretch it for as long as I could so it could last until my birthday which was just barely three weeks away.

Truthfully, I found his simple living quite charming. He would prefer to ride the jeepney over an FX even if the five peso difference in the fare was not worth the smoke and dust airbrushed on our faces. He would refuse to go to the mall for a date, but would be inclined to stay home where we could simply make the most out of our time just canoodling like slimy worms put in a jar. He was a generous philanthropist to his friends, giving away his Fossil watch or a bottle of expensive perfume in return to small favors such as helping him pacify an irate customer at work. (I wondered what he would give when someone would try to save his life). But the charm of his simplicity was quite fleeting. As days passed, evidences of him being a jejemon started to surface like panicky cockroaches on the wall foreboding a heavy downpour of rain.

For one, our conversations were limited to what happened to his day, usually the shit ones that took place while dealing with his customers on the phone. When I tried to inject some opinionated questions such as what he thought about the movie we watched he would simply give me one-line answers like “it’s good” or “nice”. And then he would move on to bragging on how he hung up on a difficult customer because he needed to take a shit. I judge a person’s likeability based on his passion. I asked him once what was his. After minutes of blabbering, he settled on sleeping as his final answer and then he laughed hysterically like it was really really funny. I pitied him at that moment.

But the biggest factor that spelled the difference in our age and highlighted his jejemonic inclination was how he handled arguments. Actually, he never did. He always stayed out of it either because it was too much of an effort for him to think of counterarguments or it was just too much of an effort for him to think. Period. So when something exasperated him, he would just walk out on me in the middle of a busy street and shut me off like I never existed in his life. When he said he didn’t want to talk to me, he meant it like a curse. It was like saying sorry to a statue. No amount of pleading and apologizing would make him talk to me again. One night, we were snuggling each other like it was our last night being together when without warning, he just shoved me and got furious with me as if I committed the gravest crime. Turned out, he got irritated by the stubbles on my chin that kept poking his skin. I plead for apology like a hungry dog begging for a piece of bone until I got tired and finally walked out on him. Indeed, that was our last night being together. The next day, he started being indifferent to my existence. He stopped responding to my messages and started barring my calls, which I learned later through his bestfriend, was his way of telling me that he wanted me out of his life for an indefinite amount of time. I never heard from him again until the day after my birthday when I read the birthday greeting I never expected.

I was staring on the monitor for a long time contemplating on whether to respond to his greeting or just pretend that I overlooked on it. But when I viewed our pictures posted in his album, I couldn't help but be transported back to the wonderful moments I had with him. The inexplicable mixture of feelings of giddiness and humiliation I had when he held my hands and kissed me in public like he was really proud to declare to the world that I was his boyfriend. The way he would respond, “I love you more” like it was the only honest thing he said in his life each time I told him I love him. The insurmountable joy I felt at the sight of his face while watching him sleep. These memories made me realize me that, after the death of a dream with the ending of my five-year relationship prior to the one I had with him, I could still lose myself and be in love like I had never been hurt before.

“Thanks J***. It's nice to hear from you again," I responded after some careful thoughts.

Surprisingly, despite his disappearance left unexplained, I meant it in a very forgiving way.

Postscript: In as much as I would have wanted to write this story, I found a better version. This story is not mine. I didn't make any revisions whatsoever, and credit goes to atticus1982.

Inevitable Twilight

Oxygen entangles with iron: rust
Cavities complicate the system
  of an industrial junk.


Air in mobility: wind
The blades provided relief, alleviation
  after eons of usance.


Now hitting the hay: retire
Copious hirelings miss the comfort
  only an enormous propeller can suffice.


Unstoppable future: technology
Air conditioning eventually advances
  giving the fan an inevitable twilight.

*a magpie tale

Binary: A Review

After discovering this awesome website from Eon's Books Read tab a couple of months ago, I have been chipper. I always had something to look forward to while my other phone is not so teemed with text messages or calls.

With a double-digit range of genre, I picked out Science Fiction. The pull came out of my boredom of romance and homophillic potions. The first e-book that I downloaded is entitled Binary by Jay Caselberg.

If you have a portable e-book reader, like a smartphone or Kindle, I suggest that you try downloading all the formats first to personally know the difference in character print and paging: which one works best and which one screws on the device. On my iPhone, the format .epub works best in the application called Stanza.

Binary is all about the effects of natural disasters to the human behavior and politics of a nation. The setting brings us to an unfamiliar planet, somewhere in the outer space where two suns rise at the same time and the seasons are governed by the intensity of each sun's brightness. In a sort of prologue, the setting starts at Clear Season, where the Major Twin is brighter than the Lesser Twin.

Of all the major characters, I liked Sandon Yl Aris the best. He was a victim of the bitter situation of having been banished from the camp of Principal Leannis Men Darnak, the man he served for almost all his life. Principal Men Darnak was not in a good state of mind when he sent out Yl Aris, his very loyal secretary and confidante. Working out his way back to the Principal's camp, he became a spy of all sorts to gather more information on the political instability that have been going on in the Guilds, proving his loyalty to the half-sane Principal.

We are confronted by the effects of religion and superstitious beliefs in this novel. The belief is, the Lesser Twin's dominance, the Storm Season, is a curse to humankind. People born on the Storm Season are stereotyped to suffer with cataclysm in the inner self. For this reason, the Principal's son, Tarlain, had become the most unpopular Men Darnak in their country. He too, was banished, after the Principal learned that he was doing something which sounded like a threat to the security of the Guilds. Tarlain used the Kallathik mines as a refuge after his father expelled and disinherited him at a wrong time --  the Return -- which is the start of the rude Storm Season.

Storm Season is indeed, a very nasty threat to life and security. Earthquakes of great intensity, biting cold, fog coupled rain -- these are a few of its tolls. It is a hindrance to good communication, and it is a test to the human spirit.

Several villains had the plan of ousting the current Principal and gaining control on the nation. With control, the natural resources are at stake.

The plot, the flow and the twist, all are hooking. Catharsis, however, received a little attention, for the author might have seen a little need for it. The supervening neglect of humans to nature is, to me, the major concern. 

I was reminded of a book I wrote several years ago (April of 2007) which is eerily similar to the twist in this book. Too bad, after reading this I thought of not giving my book an end. I was stuck at chapter seven. I know, when I have found myself a better interpretation. Binary is all it could have ever been.

Coming Out?

Katext ko si kornik @jepjepdee at gusto ko lang i-share ang napag-usapan namin. Private dapat ang texts, i know, pero okay lang naman siguro 'tong portion na 'to.

 

I live in half-truths.

There are no half-truths, only lies.

A Dose of Inspiration

Good morning!

I've come across this video on my Facebook News Feed and because of the positive remarks, I decided to watch it. After watching, I was one with their comments... the video was good. It gave me several goosebumps and I didn't know why.

This is a Christian song, if you are an Atheist you could move on.

I'm done dealing with my little distresses and monsters. Thanks be to Him! Have a good one.

(Sound?) Dissuasion

What do I think?


I think you must not get pressured. Write at your carefree spirits. Everyone has the freedom to express, and this freedom is the best thing that you can garner from writing, apart from the comments and appreciation.


We are very lucky to know English and let the whole world see what we have to say. Just to ramp a comparison, people in the Middle East are not as free as we are but they really want to show the world what is happening in their country at this moment, but they cannot express; either because they can't write it in forms understandable by the general internet population or because their IPs might get traced by their governments and they might end up in jail. You get my point Ate?


Be happy if you have thoughts flowing. No matter how feeble sounding those may be, let it flow still. Do not allow yourself from getting pressured by external forces, what matters is that your ability to express is present and is unhindered. People who love you, after all, will not judge how cranky or biased or crazy you may go at times. Let things be.


Smile. :)
:: An advice I gave to Ate Leah, I dunno if I even made a connection to her post.

My thoughts can only recount the positive comments I got from the post before this. Thank you, all.

I will shortly be out; I have to face some monsters which had been on my dreams, fiends I'm too afraid to disclose...

Should You Travel

Mossy stones on the curbside take the form of little pebbles scattered ominously. Trying to evade the chances of slipping, you tiptoe your way to the nearest tree. Apparently, you hear nothing but the bass of your headphone. You unzip the fly, hail the unseen spirits without an audible tone. You work the piss that has been sitting in your bladder for the past thirty minutes.

The most tiresome of your routines is waiting for the right bus. You pretend not to hear the dispatcher, while the poor guy tries to convince you that there is enough space inside. Pleading is the bitter herb, your indifference is the ailment. Good thing the tint of your Oakley guises the direction of your eyes, as you read the signage of the bus behind the one in front of you. Who cares if you decide not to choose the undersized and filthy ride? The customer is always right, you quote your Management professor.

With difficulty, you extract the coins from your left pocket. It is plain mercy that you have the exact amount; Bills are cursed every morning. Awaiting the bus conductor is, most of the time, obstruction to a truncated recline. However, this will be shorter because weekends often relish a mitigated road volume. Eons later, the bus conductor appears. To your surprise, the stubby employee didn't notice that you were a newcomer. You took this in as a blessing, but you dreaded its payback because 'God knows Hudas not pay'. You shook your head for utter disbelief in convincing yourself that you could bail the ticket inspector.

The reason why you choose the two-seater is its ability of repulsion. By merely acting asleep and widening the angle between your legs, you could almost take the space away. This is to make sure that you won't be disturbed by some random individual for the rest of the trip.

Beware of the unlimited number of halts. These drivers have mastered the art of feigning deafness, too. They do not hear the protests of passengers who are about to be late. They do not hear the iterative horns of other cars behind theirs. They do not hear the whistles of traffic watchmen. Your estimated jaunt time should have an additional of a quarter of an hour to a quarter less of an hour. You should realize though: this is due to the fact that undisciplined passengers make these bus stops.

The last thing that you should worry about is the unpredictable weather. An instantaneous the sun is up -- ultraviolet scorches the epidermis, next minute is drizzled with precipitation. The nine-tailed fox is crying, isn't she? You cannot afford to get sick in this entirely expensive generation, cladding to cover the parietal and occipital lobe areas would be a useful shield versus forms of migraine and respiratory diseases: climate change is here, to stay.

Alight the ride with a nifty beam. After all, you would never know if someone desirable followed you, beware if it was a burglar.

+++

Thanks to Splice, for allowing me to borrow a few expletives from his manual.