I am suffering from a writer's block. I have tons of ideas to share but when I put expressions into words, I balk even before completing my first sentence. It usually happens at the middle of the month. There is no point in denying that I am subdued by my creative limitations. I envy those who write spontaneously like some bloggers I know. After all these years of refining my craft, I ended up restrained by my own obsession with aesthetics.
Anyway, let me do an experiment by writing as fluid as I could, while my head regurgitates my thoughts. Shall we?
Woke up at 3 pm after going home at 5 in the morning. Guess where I came from? Kuya Pawpaw said I slept with someone. I texted, "yeah! joined an orgy. wahaha!" just to annoy the kid. Truth is, I was with friends last night watching some lean, brown hunks swerve their hips and twist their sweaty bodies while electronic sounds relentlessly pounded our eardrums. I was playing God [place gender here] as well to someone I just brought inside a club. With the same gay crowd, the same set of House tracks and the same energy I felt after being in the courtyard for the first time many years ago,
Swear, O - O is the new Bed!
Two evenings ago, I found myself strolling the canopied grounds of Diliman with a friend who just came from a separation. I say separation and not break-up because their set up is unfamiliar to most gay people. Let's just say that my friend lived under one roof with another guy. They even shared the same bed. At first glance, an uninformed chap would think they were a couple. Well, they're not!
They never slept with each other.
I thought there was hope for these two men. After all, they've been together for more than a year. The other guy would call my friend every day. They both go to the same gym and my friend even cooked for him. The male companion may have all the trappings of a heterosexual, but living together with someone who had already professed his sexuality, and even expressed his desire to be with you, and still let him look after your well-being is very confusing.
"I guess you're there to prop him up - I know a lot of straight guys like that." I explained.
"Baka naman in-denial siya, dalhin ko kaya sa inuman ng mga engkantos para ma-convert." I even suggested.
"Maybe he's just afraid that your "relationship" is becoming too complicated. He may had suffocated by your presence so he pushed you away." He agreed.
In the end, my friend and I both realized that too much expectations lead to a breakdown of relationship. With my friend, he was expecting that the bond with his male companion may go beyond the realms of friendship - which it didn't. In my case, failing my own set of expectations lead me to break bonds without considering the feelings of the other person.
"No wonder, platonic friendships work longer."
Two days later, the other guy texted "Sorry."
It was insincere.
Two days ago, Mister Deja Vu and I started texting again. Before we ended our conversation, he asked how was Cuycuy.
Cuycuy is the name he gave to my prick.