Mustard Seed Faith

"Umulan ka naman o..."  

Pakiusap ko iyon sa langit nang minsang naglalakad ako papasok sa trabaho. Katumbas rin ng isang stick ng Marlboro ang  layo ng office mula sa babaan ng jeep. At sa tuwing inaatake ako ng pagkakuripot ay nilalakad  ko  ang  distansyang iyon kahit mataas ang tirik ng  araw.

Humaharap ako sa team na minsan ay kakaligo lang sa pawis, pero ayos naman, lahat kami ay naglalakad papasok. Minsan naman ay dumarating akong  namumula ang  balat  pero patuloy pa rin akong nagha-hiking maging alas-dos man ng hapon ang shift namin sa work.

At  gaya ng marami ay nagrereklamo rin ako.  Tao lang naman ako para hindi makaramdam ng pagka-inis. Pero sa kabila noon ay naroon pa rin ang pag-asa -  na kahit magbitak-bitak man ang lupa ay darating rin ang ulan. Konting tiis lang at manghahalik rin ang ambon..

"Mag-iintay ako..." Pangiti kong bulong sa mga ulap nang minsang masilayan ko ito isang dapithapon.

Sa  aking tanda ay bihira lang akong biguin ng kalikasan. Iyon ay dahil natuto rin akong hindi umasa - at sa halip ay tanggapin lang ang dikta ng panahon. Kung umalan man sa oras na inaasahang sisikat ang araw ay mag-payong at kung umaraw naman sa panahong gusto kong mangulimlim ang langit ay magtago sa silong.  

Dumaan pa ang  mga araw at lalong tumindi ang init ng paligid.  Pati makapal kong  balat ay sumusuko dala kakaibang epekto ng Global Warming. Sa kabila noon ay hindi pa rin ako sumuko. Ilang araw na lang at Mayo na.  Marahil sa oras na hindi inaasahan o sa panahong ako ay natutulog ay papatak din ang ulan.

Isang hatinggabi bago tumuntong ang unang araw ng Mayo:

"Umuulan. Pinasok ko ang mga damit kasi baka mabasa."  Sabi ng aming kasambahay.

"Kaso sandali lang eh."  Dali dali akong lumabas para pagmasdan ang mga ulap.

At doon nga sa driveway ng aming bahay ay tumambad sa akin ang namamagang mamasa-masang lupa. Hindi  man  nagpatuloy ang  buhos ng ulan, ngunit  buong  lugod  ko pa rin tinanggap ang malamig na hangin na  bumubulong sa aking:

"Heto na ang hiling mo."


wala nang tatamis pa
sa simoy ng malamig
na hangin
sa madaling araw
matapos ang isang
panandalian at
pasundot na bugso ng ulan.

summer is over
rainy days are  here.  

Cold Front
Full Metal Dreams
May 11, 2006

Armed and Ready

The Japanese may not be the first people to sign the Nuclear Non-Proliferation treaty. But being  the sole nation bombed to submission by atomic weapons, it has been a staunch upholder of anti-nuclear sentiments ever since.

The Diet ratified the treaty in 1976. Yet, it didn't stop the country from harnessing the power of atomic energy for peaceful means. Even under the watchful eyes of the West, power stations running on fission were constructed across the islands. In  a  leap of several decades, the Japanese were able to refine the technology that it now rivals the nations who actually discovered this energy source.

Defeated  in the last war, Japan's old enemies have never forgotten its past crimes. Lands to the west have armed themselves with missiles tipped with deadly weaponry. In a press of a button, they can deliver a punishing strike to the heartland of Nippon.

Yet despite this threat,  Japan chooses not to race with its neighbors. Relying on the Americans for protection, atomic energy was left in the hands of civilians.

Its primary function remains to light the houses of its people .

While there are currently no known plans in Japan to produce weapons of mass destruction, it has been argued that the country is merely a "screwdriver's turn" from having its own arsenal. It has the means to produce nuclear weapons within six months - if necessary. It  has the money to convert its plutonium reserves into warheads. Its solid rocket boosters and delivery vehicles, which places satellites into orbit could be used to rain destruction to its enemies.

The country is armed and ready.

What's keeping Japan from becoming a nuclear state is the fact that it doesn't need to become one. With its technical superiority and strong economic backing, countries have long considered this nation  nuclear in its own right.

torrent one: ministry of sound: chilled acoustic

I'm sure Baabaa still remembers the day I told him that  I have no idea how Wi-Fi works. He was chuckling of course, who wouldn't be. I might be the last person to give up dial-up for a faster Internet connection.

I  also remember that a  few years back, a colleague used my credit card  to pay for her  Rapidshare account. She offered to share the spoils, but I declined. I was still using Blast Prepaid then.

Several years have passed, I contemplated on switching to Sun Broadband. A friend even recommended it for its fast surfing speed, but the Techie Lola peddling that BayanDSL on TV kept me from closing the deal.

Apparently, the advertisement worked for me.           

And  the rest  is  history.  Though belated my evolution was, waiting has  got me a very good deal. Complaints with my connection are minimal and  I could even download torrent files in a matter of hours. However at night, when  I watch video clips on YouTube instead of  my regular serving of cartoons on cable, there are times when I still resent the years I let technology slip away. High-speed Internet was already available five years ago but I strayed off course.

When this regret threatens to cloud the present, I  try to recall Japan's "nuclear" ambitions and see its relevance to my life.  The mere fact I am able to contemplate setting up a wireless network at  home - in just a month after having my broadband installed is already a proof of my adaptability. I haven't even started talking yet about my Google lessons.

You see, I might be years late from the race, but when I decide to catch up, expect me to accomplish multiple breakthroughs at a time.

Good Manners and Right Conduct

It  is said  that  Twitter is the new Downelink. Simply check @JuanitoLakarin's followers and  you will  find  bekis of  different  shades and  sizes. As a  general rule, eye candies flirt one another, and those who tend  to act more feminine show some misplaced  attitude for  reasons only known to them.

At  a time when  men boldly reveal their faces even at the risk of being outed, body  pictures begin to  lose their value. So be it a lesson to everyone not to complement  someone's looks when all  he can show is a headless DP photo.

And never ever push your luck when the person you try to flirt says he is taken. There is grace and class in clasping one's hands and stepping backward.


A blue-blooded beauconera promotes world peace and timeless beauty.  Supply the wittiest, most diplomatic answer to the boylet above to complete the chikka.  Bitchessa replies are subject to disqualification.

Social Network

You can think of us as little maggots wiggling out of our eggs. Barely out of the puddle and into the world, the web around us was already teeming with life. The social mosquito - which I would become - has sought a share of the goodies. This manna may have come from Pinoyexchange - in one of the threads there - and knowing  how this gift would appease my ego, I spawned a copy of my digital self to let it wander the realms of cyberspace.     

The  avatar found anchorage in a website called Friendster. As every thirteen year old know  by now, creation begins when one types his name and uploads a picture in a website. It doesn't matter if you steal another person's identity as long as you can make human connections. Place no importance to age and location unless you want to be found.

Hobbies are only useful when scouring for potential dates.

But  we are vanity's children so we fill out profiles to trade for testimonials. Good words from friends soothe our spirit, so we  return to Friendster in search of lost connections. Intimate circles expand outward as we find colleagues, classmates, and even old flings. Our nature calls that we scour the social network to stalk our object of affection

and rekindle primordial ties.

Popularity breeds petty pleasures and when the masses arrive, Friendster becomes a huge pile of trash. Overnight, Glitter  letters and pictures made public testimonials look cheap. Facebook - which was new at that time with its clean layout and symmetric boxes became a haven for the weary.

I immediately put up an account believing the social website's zen aspirations.

The final exodus came when I had to disappear from the ex-lover. Knowing he may never track down my whereabouts, I roosted on top of my ivory wall  when everyone was complaining how ugly Friendster has become.  Soon, the website would be seen as the Jejemons haunt, the kids we all love to hate. When the clutter became too much for our aesthetics, people soon disappeared. Friendster would turn into an empty shell of once was the Milky Way of social networks.   

Hakken, 2008

Seasons came and passed, and I  heard less and less from the social website. I read a news article a few years back that a Malaysian firm bought Friendster at a bargain. I tried to check it but my password was blocked. Turns out, part of the forgetting  includes losing my  log-in name. It was meant to prevent me from accessing a memory.

I  learned what the new overlords did to make Friendster look sickly. Its cursive font and piss yellow color background tarnished its solid beauty.  As a witness to the social website's downward spiral, I think the new layout is the root of all its misfortune. Add to that the strangeness felt by its old inhabitants and Friendster was  eventually abandoned. 

I was able to access Friendster using my G-mail  last month after two years of being locked. The birthday notifications, which I continue to receive all these years were the key that would open my account. I read the kind words once written by friends.  While these letters are now mothballed into the subconscious, to see them again rekindled some old ties.

"Setting his meek aside, he is swift, cunning, a political plotter yet statesmanly- like Cicero. He had the bulk of power in in our college. He moved his political affiliation to that one sweet glory. And just as he was the leader, i was the bishop. i believed that during my stay with him, i was the balancer. i was the first who always negated him. he always asked permission from me whenever he decided on something. indeed, Mugen was a "healthy" leader. a very diplomatic person. outside that, he even revealed himself more. and we enjoyed it so much."

Vice President, Journalism Class

"Basta claim ko na best friend ko tong si wapo. The best that I could ever have. Di pa ko iniwan nyan. Savior ko. Ilang months na tayong magkakilala? Nearly a year na siguro. Or baka nga a year old na. Sya una kong nakilala na Alien. Ngayon Others na kami. He's into long walks tapos wentuhan one to sawa. Naikot na namin ang Ortigas, nagsenti sa break water, gumulong sa damo ng american cemetery, naabot na rin namin ang rurok ng cloud 9 sa Antipolo. Yeah, marami na kaming pinagsamahan. Love ko tong si Parekoy eh.=p"


"Mugen... is a friend im glad i have,,,, we're batchmates at UST and we met at model platoon. a cool and sentimental guy. Mugs remains to be one of the simplest guy in A.B. that i know. Being simple is he's best asset. He is easy to get along with and very nice to have as a friend. Thank you for being my friend at sa lhat ng masayang alaala kapatid! I hope hindi dito nagtatapos ang ating pagkakaibigan."

Model Platoon, ROTC.

Friendster will always be the well-spring from which we all began. Almost everyone has a Facebook, Tumblr and even a Twitter account today.   We use it  to connect with friends, or  impress our thoughts to those in our social network.  While Friendster has been abandoned in the confines of memory, some had left their accounts untouched as a remembrance.

Of  the days when Web 2.0 was just an idea and strangers hardly cuss one another online.

But things are about change before the end of next month.

"On the help forum, Friendster encourages all users to use the ‘Friendster Exporter’ app to download or export their profile information, friends list, photos, messages, comments, testimonials, shout-outs, blogs and groups. Options include porting content to Flickr or Multiply.

On May 31, Friendster will move to wipe out all photos, blogs, comments and groups uploaded or created by its users. The company will, however, keep all accounts alive, along with user friends lists, games details and basic profile information."

Succumbing from Facebook's unrivaled dominion, Friendster will drop its old image to become a mere entertainment portal: A move, that will not sell under its present feeble layout.

The prospects of reinvention entices the curious and the sentimental, but let us dwell on the fact that an age is now over. "All good things will come to an end," the wise men say, and the Friendster we all knew will soon be no more. 


Been a clubber for almost a decade now  and the dance floor - was for the longest time - my realm. Had I known that I will abdicate my throne for a much quieter corner, far from the glare of strobe lights, loud music bouncing off the man-sized speakers and cigarette particles suspended in mid-air, I should have arranged for my own graduation before I left.

Slipping my gem-studded white stiletto boots in place of my rugged sneakers; Exchanging my tight jeans and muscle shirt for something scantier - two-piece string bikini with gold wires and small flower sequins around the not-so-private places; and a bird-of-paradise inspired headgear with its wingtips arching close to my massive butt cheeks.

I would then mount the ledge at BED and shake my hips excitedly like this:

Pardon  my silly unbecoming, but I'm having bouts of sleeplessness thinking about the rainhas de baterias (queens of the drums) of the Rio Carnivals lately.


We live in a small house blessed with two moldy bathrooms, three bedrooms with thin wooden walls and a sala that extends all the way to the kitchen. The house would have been large enough for a family of four but with a family double that size - including Baabaa, when he decides to sleep over - one could dismiss us as tin can dwellers. There  is always someone up for  half of us are nocturnal and the clutter becomes an eyesore sometimes, I  secretly stash some of the refuse at the neighbor's trashcan.

I grew up in a family that has always been inflated with asylum seekers. My mom has seven siblings not to mention her cousins who live in our old house. Many years later, we would open our doors to some students who found our home a refuge. These were my mom's students if you're wondering. Now a generation has passed and we moved to a new house, but our doors remain open.  My sister's ex-boyfriend who is now her husband chose to live with us.

Personal space has ceased to become an issue.

But  there are times when the brother-in-law must return to his family. He brings along his family to live in the mountains. Even the house helpers need to return to their families too. When transients need to stay elsewhere, we are reminded of who the real dwellers are -

Mom and me.

Christ has already risen, and the people who have left are expected to ask for extension. It means the Lesbian driver won't be around until the middle of the week - if she decides to return,  and my sister, her husband and Baby Lenin - who have just left this morning won't be back until next week. With the maid to keep us company, looking after the house would have been a breeze. But my aging mother is left alone in her room most of the time.  Needing constant reassurance (with the maid always staying at the neighbor's house)  her seclusion leaves me uneasy.

It is just the first night of my vigil and I could already feel that something  has been carved within. More than the echo left by an infant's babbling or the occasional quarrel between the young couple, it is the invisible thread of togetherness that just got missing. For I used to have no worries sleeping under stars knowing someone will watch over my back, but  now that we're just three in the house, the blanket of darkness becomes my closest fiend.  

I will always be a creature of silence, but  from now on, never can I lay claim to the distance which now surrounds me.


If   there are bills contradictory to the Catholic teachings, I would go to these congressmen one by one to enlighten them with the Catholic teachings and they would easily agree with me.   And as friends, they would find it hard to go against the bishop.

Retired Cardinal Jose Sanchez 

Take this passage out of context and it could mean different things:

"I want these fertile lands under my name, and as friends, they would find it hard to go against the bishop."

"I want you to condemn her as a witch and a worshiper of the devil  for accusing me of  raping her, and as friends, they would find it hard to go against the bishop."

"They are a danger to society for spreading lies about my plans to built a new crematorium.   Of course, it has the approval of the mayor and the DENR.  As friends, they would find it hard to go against the bishop."

"Mister Arlegui agreed to have his son enter the seminary even if the rebellious boy wants to become a doctor. As friends, he would find it hard to go against the bishop."

"When I say that Risa Hontiveros  is an ugly, mean bitch  they would agree. As friends, they would find it hard  to go against the bishop."

There is no doubt that the Church leaders are becoming a bit desperate these days.  Their rampant abuse of privileges even at the risk of offending sensibilities show how low they have become.  

"Our actions are justified," a priest in Baguio said. "It is a life and death matter."

What they are up against is the Reproductive Health Bill, which according to them aims to kill the unborn to keep the population under control.  

The protracted argument went a notch higher after the President declared that he would risk getting excommunicated for this bill to become a law. Whether for rhetoric or to improve his sagging approval ratings, many supported his belief. The clerics, who are about to lose from this issue went overdrive to nail their point.  

After all, they see the intellectuals, the middle class and the other Christians ganging up on them.

I don't know why the clerics  have to resort to name calling or twisting their Eucharistic celebrations to  accomplish a narrow goal?  Why drive non-believers away when the priests are supposed to nurture their flock's spiritual needs despite their social opinions?

"Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s."  Jesus said.

My stand on the  Reproductive Health Bill,  though it doesn't matter, will be written here. But  from  my conscience's standpoint, I share what the brightest minds have been telling all along. It's never about  abortion or forced use of contraceptives, or freebies of condoms and spermicides for everyone. As far as I know, its about education and choice.

This  mind-speak, no matter how cosmic this conviction is,  puts my spirit in a quandary.  For now that I deem the priests so corrupted, so myopic and so politically bound, who will then speak for my God? 

Where will I anchor my soul?


GMA News Online
Philippine Daily Inquirer

The God Of Small Things

A Repost: January 9, 2008

Hope that this past conversation between Mami Athena and me reaches the person in need of answers. 

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
i think about God often e

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
saka dun sa toilet ng QA

Mugen  says:

Mugen  says:

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
i often look at the clouds and talk to God

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:

Mugen says:
thats good.

Mugen says:
minsan i lose sight of God

Mugen says:
pero ang ginagawa ko

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
sometimes i just talk to God kahit saan

Mugen says:
when those moments come

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
it is so weird

Mugen says:
i try to show

Mugen says:
random act of kindness.

Mugen says:
siguro yun ang way of connection ko.

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
ah oo

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
i want [name of colleague] to know God

Mugen says:
para kahit na preoccupied ng maraming bagay ang utak ko

Mugen says:
my heart still speaks of goodness.

Mugen says:
hopefully he will

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
and ung mga ganito, just talking about God

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
kahit kanina nadepress ako ng konti

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
at nainggit kahit pano

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
nabawasan ng malaki

Mugen says:
of course

Mugen says:

Mugen says:
we realize that not all is lost

Mugen says:
that were still blessed

Mugen says:
despite whats lacking in us.

Mugen says:

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
uu it is wonderful to feel that contentment ano

Mugen says:

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
na kahit kinakalaban ka ng materialism mo

Mugen says:

Mugen says:
you will find contentment

Mugen says:
sa mga bagay

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
u can always rely on that basic contentment

Mugen says:

Mugen says:

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
pero loser sourgraping mentality daw un

Mugen says:

Mugen says:
being happy with immaterial things?

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
being content with what blessings you have and receive

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
kc settling for crumbs daw

Mugen says:

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
sometimes i disturbs me

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:

Mugen says:
pag wala kang contentment

Mugen says:
it leads to greed

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
ah yes

Mugen says:
the Buddhists

Mugen says:
encourage the opposite

Mugen says:
one can only find peace and happiness

Mugen says:
when he surrenders the world.

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
uu kaya i like them e

Mugen says:
loser attitude yun

Mugen says:
according to people

Mugen says:
who doesn't really know

The Patroness of Giggling Dogs says:
i am sometimes conflicted about Christ

Mugen says:
what true happiness means

Mugen says:
don't be

Mugen says:
religions never conflict each other

Mugen says:
interpretation does.

It   has  been three years since this conversation happened and in many ways I could never explain,  I have become more at peace when the only reason I pray is to give thanks.

Have a blessed Friday, everyone.

Destination Nowhere

"Saan ka ngayong Semana Samana?"  tanong sa akin ng isang katropa.

"Huy punta kaming Bora, sama ka," udyok ng isa. 

Sa bawat imbitasyon na aking natanggap, isang  mapait na ngiti ang tangi kong panukli.  Ito ay dahil nakatakda na ang mga obligasyon ko ngayong mahal na araw at hindi kasama doon ang  pagsakay ng bus na magdadala sa akin palayo ng siyudad.

Alam ko na marami ang nadi-disappoint sa aking non-committal answer sa tuwing may ganitong usapan. Naroon ang  plano ng mga engkanto na magpalipas ng gabi sa Virgo Island kung saan pakakainin daw kami ni Pilyo ng inihaw na bayawak at adobong paniki. Si Favorite Aunt naman ay nag-text noong isang linggo para  mag-aya sa isang retreat na gagawin dito sa  Manila. Hanggang ngayon ay hindi ko pa rin napapasabi ang pag-decline ko sa kanyang imbitasyon.

Kasi naman, unang araw pa lang ng Abril ay alam ko nang  the odds are stacked against me. Sa trabaho, pahirapan  na ang pag-absent sa opisina.  Sabi nga sa management handbook, leaders should set an example at dahil mahigpit na pinagbilin ng boss na bawal mag-leave ng Holy Week, bilang bisor ay hindi ako nakaporma.

Mabilis kong  pinarating sa mga ahente ang salita ng nasa itaas.

Matapos bugbugin ang katulong last month ay nagpaalam ang driver na  magbabakasyon muna sa probinsya. Dahil  hindi naman nagkaroon ng Christmas break ang tibo ay pinayagan na rin ito ni mama. Wala tuloy  kaming driver ng isang linggo. Sa kanyang  pagbabakasyon ay mababawasan rin kami ng isang kasambahay. This puts us in a disadvantaged position in case we need an extra hand.

Finally, may bali-balita na magbabakasyon din sa in-laws si utol kasama ang kanyang pamilya.  Nami-miss na daw kasi doon si  Baby Lenin at gusto itong makita ng kanyang lola. Pinayagan na rin umalis ni mama ang mag-asawa dahil wala rin itong nagagawang grades sa tuwing nag-aalaga ng bata. Pagkakataon rin ito para  mag-ayos ng bahay upang sa kanilang pagbalik ay higit na mas ligtas at malinis ang aming paligid.

Thus, their absence leave us with fewer house members this weekend.

I don't know what the silence brings but this has always been happening every year. Kaya naman never akong nakadapo sa Galera o kaya ay nagtampisaw sa dagat kung kailan lahat ay pauwing probinsya. The closest I had to a vacation is when the Favorite Aunt invited me to a spiritual retreat in Tagaytay. Umuwi rin kami ng Holy Thursday kaya masasabing hindi iyon counted na out-of-town trip.

I've  never  been a fan of great migrations and for sure hindi  ako mag-eenjoy maglakbay kung traffic naman sa daan. So might as well stay behind and only pack my things when everyone's already back from their vacation. But given a choice, gusto kong maligaw sa isang lugar na malamig, maraming puno at hindi dinarayo. I look forward to a time of self reflection, and perhaps, a renewal of faith.

Subalit dahil  nakakasa na ang mga dapat  gawin ngayong linggo,  pikit-mata akong magsasaboy ng buhangin sa aking  work station  at sa aking panaginip,  imumulat ko ang aking mga mata sa isang  malayong dalampasigan kasama si Baabaa. Doon ay  maglalakad kami kung saan naroon ang mga alon  at magkatabing magpapalipas ng dapithapon hanggang sa ang araw ay maglaho sa pusod ng karagatan.


Raymond G


I  wonder how it feels like putting your name in Twitter's search query and read all those harsh remarks about you. Does it still hurt?  Do you still get upset when people you don't know tell something about your expanding girth, your flamboyant attitude, your blatant denial of your sexuality? Or have you become calloused to the world always turning against you?  

There's no denial that once,  I  too was fond of reading those comments under your name. I smirked when  people try to compare you to a walking closet, or a clumsy elephant, or some woman who just recently made her pregnancy a fodder for public amusement. I  look forward to people expressing their disgust at the way you live, or tweet about some small things to make it more  trivial. In  fact, the only reason  why you caught my attention lately is because of the comic relief you give. You're a class clown to peons like me, but lately I've learned that there's a limit to one's capacity to make fun of someone.

We  know  how superficial showbiz is.  Today you're a darling  but tomorrow you're everyone's rag doll.  Even a tragic death by a rising star may catapult  that poor fellow to the heights of fame, posthumously. A  celebrity, no matter how nice his intentions will be hated by someone - for shallow reasons such as not  being sexy enough, or for being too beautiful or merely because he or she is too popular - and glaring.  That is why the ones who endure the business are the loud gay people - who's not a threat to anyone  or the legends - with real talents who spent ages steadily climbing their way up.

I  may  not  know your life off-screen or the real reasons behind people's derision. Perhaps they are trying to compare you with your more prominent twin - whose manly appeal had launched a score of  high-rating soap operas in the Kapuso Network. Maybe they're trying to pit you against your older sister, whose controversial marriage breathed new life into her once-sagging career.  Of course you're not married to a Turkish mafia, but just the same, its fun to see things that way.

To tell you honestly dear, I'm not a fan of your family. I may never will. Seldom do I like celebrities and the ones I do have more meaningful lives off-screen. But reading your social network's timeline, I get this impression that you're successful in your own way. I see that you're a local socialite whose penchant for the high life is often cast badly by everyone. You may become a skillful talent manager someday, a career your mother is already pursuing. But given your aloofness and this perceived pretension I see when you're on stage,  I still doubt where you're heading.  

Yet behind the often misunderstood face you portray in public, I sense that you're a good person. Someone, who gets upset when people call you fat, or when strangers sneer at you when they spot you at a party.  I see that behind the image is a struggling person trying to find his place and acceptance in a cutthroat world where you chose to plant your roots.

My dear, I maybe an outsider to your world but as a fellow human who understands rejection, you taught me a good lesson today.

"ang panget ni baklang Raymond Gutierrez. Y not lamutakin mu mga scarf mu panget!"

We should  look at ourselves before we say bad things to a person and in times we cannot say anything nice to a  stranger, it is best to shut our mouth and divert our attention elsewhere.

Sad  how good manners and kindness seem to come hardly these days.


Something I've learned from YouTube this morning:

At  first  I  thought all aircraft landings require the nose of the plane directly facing the runway.  Turns out, its not the case all the time. Pardon my limited understanding of Physics but from what I learned, wind direction plays an important role in landing an aircraft. Not only does air pockets produce turbulence, gustiness can actually veer the craft off the runway as it lands.

The path towards enlightenment  began when I  tried searching for the most extreme airports in the world. My curiousity led  me to a plane-spotter's amateur video of an airplane trying to land at Kai Tak Airport in Hong Kong.  What's unusual about the craft is that its fuselage was slanted sideways instead of the normal  nose up, body properly aligned to the runway. The jet-plane drifts as it  tries to realign itself towards the runway.  A few meters before touchdown, the large aircraft swerved again as its landing gear makes contact with the solid surface.

I  have seen extreme videos where crosswind maneuver resulted  in a plane's wing strike. Some clips, which  I won't share here reveals some breathtaking seconds where pilots make a mad dash to abort the landing and avoid the plane from crashing.

Some of  you may ask, what relevance does this entry have? Well  aside from being a filler, (and a nudge to my old friend, GripenManila) consider this an introduction to the very geek side of Mugen.  For some reasons, the urge to share this information has something to do with a little secret.

Enjoy the video for now and be amazed at how big the Airbus A380 is.    

Some Words From The Oracle

As I  trace back my steps before I found you, the blog reveals that the universe was actually readying me for your arrival:

"I  have to return because I am empty. I want to take this shot hoping to find the one I've been waiting. I  took down all my other means of connection out of your quiet urging and this is one of the last.  You know me, I try not to seek the one in my proximity.  How many times I botched a good friendship because of my insistence?  So now I am forced to do this. In days when I feel a countdown coming, let me try it again before time runs out. You know, to feel romantic with someone. To know that my heart speaks because there's someone out there who owns my voice. I miss the feeling, specially on early mornings like this.  But the shadow of my past wouldn't leave me. It takes an effort to trust and when I'm ready to give in, the supposed one shakes it off.  So I have no choice but to move on. There are times I  grow weary of living in another couples' fairytale. There are times I wish I'd go home knowing someone will be there in my sleep. So I ask you. No. I request that your guidance lead me to the person for me. I will listen and consult you every step of the way. I know I've asked this favor so many times - but it was me who ignored the ones you've offered.  It was my fault and I don't deny it. Maybe I'm just afraid that I might not be able to uphold my promise.  Should you say that its not the place to look for, I will be waiting for your answer tonight. I maybe drunk and stubborn but I'll pay attention to what you will gonna tell.


Longing and learning are two different states of awareness.

The sun was almost peeking on the horizon when I called it a night. The party was fine and I've realized a friend's friend was actually cute.

And Bro did answer my prayer.

'Not there kid.

Not there.'"

Late Night Blues and Epiphanies
Midnight Afterburner
February 7, 2010

"I  am just human not to dwell on some far-flung fairy tales I still treasure, hoping that one of these days, such exchanges of affection would surge here on my blog.

It could have happened. Perhaps. Maybe. In some other alternate timeline.

Mugen: Hindi. Pakilala kita as tropa.

Mugen: Sabihin ko magpapasama ako.

Prospect X: Okay lang sa inyo yun?

Mugen: Oo naman. Walang problema.

Prospect X: Paano yun may work ako?

Mugen: Ako gigising sa iyo. Ihahatid pa kita sa sakayan ng jeep sa umaga.

Prospect X: Weh! Gagapangin mo lang ako eh.

Mugen: Gusto mo naman eh. Hahahaha.

Prospect X: Uu.

Mugen: Unlimited supply ang hugs ko!!!

Mugen: Pati kisses!!

Prospect X: Ehehehehe.

Mugen: Biceps ko ang yayakap sayo ng mahigpit na mahigpit!!

Mugen: Itatago kita sa ilalim ng kumot!!

Prospect X: Gusto ko yan!

Mugen: Gusto ko rin yun. May niyayakap.

Prospect X: So honeymoon natin to? Hahaaaa

Mugen: :)

Mugen: Basta sisiguraduhin ko na safe ka sa piling ko

Prospect X: Awww.

Mugen: Kasi secured rin ako kapag nandyan ka."

Scorpion Week - Epilogue
Midnight Afterburner
June 4, 2009

"Naging ugali ko na ang pagsisindi ng tatlong kandila matapos magdasal sa Santa Clara. Ang ikatlo ay para sa darating - maging sino man siya - upang malaman niya na sa mga hapong iyon ay may nagdadasal para sa kanyang kapayapaan at kaligtasan." 

Hindi Sad Diamonds
Fullmetal Dreams
February 1, 2009

"10.  Higit sa lahat, hahanap ako ng kabiyak na aking makakausap sa tuwing ako ay nalulumbay. Yung kahit magdamag kayong magkasama ay hindi kayo mauubusan ng pagkwekwentuhan. Hahanap ako ng kabiyak na marunong maka-appreciate sa halaga ng isang yakap at kapayapaan sa katahimikan."

Before We Close the Gates
Fullmetal Dreams
November 30, 2008

Sometimes you ask "bakit kita mahal?" I cannot recall giving a really cheesy, heart-melting answer.  Even the words above might be for someone else. But along the way, the winds point me to your direction. In the eve of celebrating  our becoming, I just want you to know that finding you is such a journey and long before the stars showed me my destination.

You have been with me in spirit all along.

Mahal na mahal na mahal kita.


Salcedo Park
Makati Central Business District

There  is something in this open space that calls us back to its gates. It might be the kids at the playground with their  hearty shrill filling the park with boundless glee. Some swing back and forth on suspended seats while others run with their hands flapping in the air around monkey bars and over sand boxes. 

Ladies with hijab covering their heads sprawl on a carpet under a big tree. They speak in strange tongues punctured occasionally with boisterous laughter. But when a cute guy appears, they stop and giggle. The inattentive eye candy whose mind is fixed on that tummy buns he is dreaming then disappears as he jogs in flawless cadence with audio earbuds plugged in his ears.

Men with  pricey neckties follow the red brick passage as they rush to their offices, while flat dwellers stretches  their atrophied limbs on benches found around the greens. Some stay at the park to read  hard-bound novels or listen to timeless sounds played on their music players, while others pass the time reflecting where their life is heading by staring at the windowed sky or interpreting the divine found in the blades of  grass.

It  is  hard  to imagine  that just a few blocks away,  the  towering monoliths of  Ayala  push people to race up the career heights, while cars and  people squabble for available space in  fast-food joints and 4-lane highways. No wonder, many of our accomplishments are measured with material things. It's to remind us that happiness comes in  paper bags and liberation begins under the mighty spirit of alcohol. 

But after an overdose of  libertine pleasures, a voice within tells:  these are all empty fulfillment, there must be something more than just spending our cash or satiating our hunger with processed food to make us breathe.

We cannot hasten our already fleeting lives.

Thus, some of  us return to the park, where flowers bloom within a confined space and where old couples smile at  strangers for no reasons at all. Even stray cats sit on one's lap after letting you stroke it's fine fur and cigarette butts, which are thrown elsewhere are nowhere to be found.

But more than the evergreens that feed the soul or  the precious silence in the stillness of the night,  my reason for returning - with my beloved - in this spot  is to find sublimity in  that  bond we found. 

For  when surrounded with  life, we are stirred to nourish that love which is already growing and cast out, all  that destructive leanings born out of our shattered histories.


Kendra (Epalogue)

To submerge in worlds of fiction is like swimming in the mind of its creators.

- Anonymous

Hango dito ang kuwento.
Paumanhin sa adult content.

Naglalawa pa rin ang nawakwak na puke ni Kendra matapos itong maturbo-ranger ni Derek. Basag man ang mukha kakasapak matapos nitong ma-taihan sa puwet ang katalik, pero solb naman ito sa laki at haba ng kargadang naglabas-masok sa kanyang inaagnas na lagusan. 

Subalit ang bilat na pakantot ay wala pa ring humpay sa pagfifinger ng puwet.  Sa kanyang pantasya ay iniihian siya ng Briton.

"Kum hir Direk Kum hir!!" Utos nito kay Derek na sa mga oras na iyon ay iika-ikang naglalakad papunta sa banyo.

"Fuck you bitch! I told u not to use ur fist on me!"

Pero tila walang narinig ang babaeng Undin. Sa halip ay lumaki lang ang butas ng namamagang ilong nito habang pilit pinapasok ang bote ng Bacardi sa kanyang kuwebang mabantot.

"Oooooooh! So did I meyk the cat direk?  Wel I bi yur star?" 

"Not in your wildest dreams u cunt!" Sabay hawak sa kanyang balakang.  "I'm gonna kill you if blood drips from my arse!" Bago ito pumasok sa banyo ay binato niya ng ashtray ang pagkamalas-malas na dalaga.

"And I'm not a director you slut!!" Tumalbog ang ashtray sa silicon boobs ni Kendra patungo sa kanyang baba.

Sa mga oras na iyon, hindi alam ng dalaga kung siya ba ay iiyak o tatawa. Matapos mag-clubbing buong gabi kasama ang kanyang pinsang si Crazy Gaga, matapos makilala si Derek na durog sa cocaine at metamphetamine, matapos siyang i-take home sa condo nang kumandong ito sa lalaki at lunurin ito sa pagitan ng kanyang mabibilog na suso, at matapos mababoy sa kama nang mag PnP ang dalawa, 

Nabalewala lang pala ang kanyang pagpapagamit. Si Kendrang babaeng undin ay hanggang kama lang pala.

Huminto ito kakafinger at saka tumayo.  Kusang dumulas ang bote ng Bacardi mula sa kanyang puwit. Si Derek naman na nagkulong sa banyo ay hindi na lumabas.

Naglakad si Kendra patungo sa bintana at saka sumilip sa labas. Di alintana sa kanya ang natuyong tamod sa gilid ng kanyang bunganga.

Hinawi nito ang kanyang kulot na buhok at inayos ang nadislocate na panga.

Masakit man ang namumugtong mga mata, pinilit nitong tumingin sa malayo kung saan ang malamig na hangin galing  bundok ay humahaplos sa kanyang pisngi, habang unti-unting lumiliwanag ang madilim na langit. 

Ang babaeng undin ay napangiti. 

Umaga na pala.

Matapos mawala ng isang taon, muling nagbabalik sa trabaho si Daniel.  Tunay kang mahal ng ating ina.  

Welcome back kapatid!

Square One

My clothes are getting stuffy and so are my pants. It  is  becoming  more difficult to squeeze in  tight  places and the bulkiness of  this  frame makes me look  like a tub of lard. Though  I  am way past the demands of market forces, the expanding girth reanimates my old fears. I refuse to be what I was but  I don't know how to cease growing.


I  have ran out of ideas to keep myself fit  and with  the unchecked appetite becoming a thorn in my side, I am on the verge of admitting that time has finally caught up. I may go on with my thrice-a-week gym visits, but with the bench press and dead lifts hardly making a dent on my thickening love handles, resistance is futile.

Slowing metabolism prevails.

Time will come that I may have to accept that I'm back to square one.

Homo: Sapien

It  is  hard to imagine how it was  like to be gay when people identified themselves with the tribe, kingdom and city-state they belong. Sure, the ones in-hiding  inside the closet have existed and so were the confused-but-forced-to-marry-and-have-children abound. But to love and grow old with a male companion was unheard of, and to flaunt a guy's effeminate behavior by dancing in women's clothes was totally impermissible. Authorities saw it an abomination; a denial of human nature, and for the longest time the people believed.

The canon of human history has long been tampered by the ones in power. Some call it revision, while others  dismiss it as propaganda. Events and customs that  were deem contrary to the accepted norms were taken out of context. Some were even left to wander in the realms of myths. Only very recently did we learn to review the facts and write our stories without hesitation.  The subjects  we missed or deliberately scratched off  begin to come to light, and our story - as homosexuals -  slowly trickles from just being mere legends to becoming recognizable part of our past.

The Native Americans have a word for it - niizh manidoowag - two spirits.  They were people who can exhibit both characteristics of a man and a woman.  The niizh manidoowag had an important role to play in society. They were the witch doctors, shamans and astrologers who decode the message of the stars. They accompanied the tribal chiefs in battles, and was consulted for advise in times of domestic need. What the niizh manidoowag didn't see was their slow disappearance from history. With the coming of Europeans, they vanished from a land memory has forgotten.

The Sacred Band of Thebes was an army of gay men.  They were known for their ferocity and honor. Seldom did they flee  from their ranks, and often, fought until their last breath. The band was composed of  male couples handpicked from one of Greece's city states.  Housed and trained  to become  foot soldiers, they were an elite group of soldiers who swore eternity to their beloved and defense of their homeland..   

Their defeat  came in the hands of Philip, King of Macedon.  In the cover of spears and arrows, other army groups had fled but the band refused. Serving as the last line of cover so that the heteros could retreat, their death meant the survival of  the city-state. In the heap of their corpses Alexander the Great once stood. Many years after the prince became a king, he too would have a lover, a male companion who fought alongside with him in all his greatest battles. 


The ancient times were replete with homosexual records that never appeared in our history books. After all, experts-in-robes deem homosexuality a crazy disease just over 50 years ago. They never knew the hijras were excellent and trusted administrators in the court of Mughal Emperors of India. The Japanese had nanshokus to keep their masters and teachers appeased. Even the Arabs had wine boys in their joyous merriment.  I  wonder how the practice endured at the risk of beheading.  They say even the Sufi Teachers deflowered their male students too.  

It was only in the Middle Ages that homosexuality faced its darkest moments. In a place where war and famine takes a toll on the population, survival mandates constant procreation. The kings and priests of the time saw how the social fabric would collapse. Aided by a religion they found in the desert, new values were introduced. Fearing eternal damnation and earthly persecution, echoed constantly from the churches,  male love was wiped out from human psyche.

Times have changed after information has become freely available. The loud voices raising questions about our existence has now become but a whimper in the pond of human epoch. While empowerment is still an ongoing struggle for many people like us, we are still fortunate to live in a time when the option  to come out is met with open arms and heartfelt recognition.  

History  is written for us to remember.  So that in war and peace and in the confusion within our estranged self, we may find solace from the triumphs of those before us.  When in doubt, remember: male dolphins and penguins are known to form bonds with the same gender. If you believe in Charles Darwin, you will find that there's a connection.

And in the dawn of our presence, another revelation was revealed. 

Kamila Remisova Vesinova and her team of researchers from the Czech Archeological Society believe they have unearthed the remains of an early homosexual man. The remains date from around 2900-2500 B.C., on the outskirts of Prague.

That claim stems from the fact the 5,000-year old skeleton was buried in a manner reserved for women in the Corded Ware culture: its head was pointed east rather than west, and its remains were surrounded by domestic jugs rather than by hammers, flint knives and weapons that typically accompany male remains.

 Time Magazine

Long before we were born in tribes and kingdoms.  Ante-dating our first empires and nations. We discover that our nature precedes us.  

We have been homo-sapiens all along.

Into The Light

What  force draws me, I do not know. Something within urges me to find out. While remnants of bad blood hinders me from my journey, there's no denial, I've been called. Though fear claws me back to my cocoon, a time has come to seek some answers.  This has been my nature all along, and now that I have found some kindred spirits, perhaps,

  • You feel different, alienated or separated from others; you feel lonely in your spiritual path
  • You are sensitive to other people, chemicals or violence in any form
  • You constantly search the purpose of life
  • You have a strong connection with nature
  • You have had any kind of "metaphysical" experience
  • You have had any kind of angelic experience
  • You have a longing to make this world a better place
  • People or even strangers tell you their problems, as well as real personal information

    mysteries I put forward to the universe will be revealed once and for all.

    DIY: color block dress

     I think this one is pretty self explanatory. But ask questions if something is unclear and I will do my best to answer it.

    Cramming | Resurfacing

    Mom gave a  photocopy of her grading sheet last Friday. Though she didn't say when it is due for submission, the matriarch was hoping I could finish posting her student's grades by Sunday afternoon. The State University's computer lab was closed on weekends - a fact I didn't take into consideration. Since it is forbidden to access the website outside the campus for fear of  hackers, I  was only able to submit the grades by Wednesday.


    It's the raketship season and Bentusi commissioned me for a new assignment: Writing comments for blog articles. We have a tight schedule.  Heard it's a new client.  Links were given last weekend and work began in earnest the following day. Some of  the articles are research intensive and distractions (including two nights of searching YouTube for proofs of extraterrestrial existence) hindered my progress. I  have 2,300 words to go spread across dozens of blog articles and here I am, writing a blog post to beef up my online presence. Deadline for completing this task  was moved from tomorrow to Saturday.


    I  have become more prayerful lately after the alarming revelations last week. Still, the stubborn mother doesn't want it to get checked.  Hate to admit it but  I  too have nowhere  to run so I resort to spiritual comfort to keep my head above water.

    Kept  telling  myself  that I will return to my sanctuary in Katipunan since last month. Procrastination  held  me up for the longest time. So this afternoon, after clicking my mom's grades into the State U's well-guarded database, I went to Katipunan even if the church is closing by the time I arrive.

    The guards were busy ushering the leaving pilgrims so sneaking pass behind them was easy. After I settled down in one of the pews and drew my wooden rosary out of the bag, prayers began to come out of my dried lips. 


    Tasks were only accomplished because they were done with clockwork precision. I  was even able to squeeze the gym work-out despite its increasing irrelevance.  Baabaa Day was canceled for the first time. I didn't pick him up at the office.  The  partner heeded my request not to report to work after showing some flu-like symptoms yesterday.

    There  are still a lot of  to-do things on my list. (including bill payments, menthol  inhaler replacement and paycheck bank deposit)  On top of this, work resumes after my one-day off.  As I resign myself to sleep, let this day be a reminder that though cramming applies when time is unstretchable, I should be wise enough to know that I'm not a  kid anymore who could afford laziness and rush things when it's almost times up.

    As always, there's a choice to plan ahead.

    Nostalgia Manila

    Manila  was crowded then as it is today, except that there were few people in the sidewalks and the calesas still roam  the streets. The VIPs cruise in their Chevy Fleetlines donning mini flags instead of wang-wangs. I wonder if the traffic officers back then have already invented the word before kotong. Cool air lets cabs have their windows rolled down, and while taximeters work in analogue fashion, it doesn't charge passengers 4 pesos every 300 meters.

    Ten cents would do. 

    Ambulant vendors ply their trade in bilaos. I say tradition stays no matter how times have changed. It's not much different from the wooden stalls we have today. Except that there was no MMDA to steal their goods and China-made imitation were still generations behind from coming out of  rickety production lines. Notice how the homeless live in shacks with little wheels. Good for them, at least they can move from place to place and not worry about squatting in one's land.  The last time I walked the street at night, I saw an entire family including little children sleeping under the stars.

    Back then, kids sell large paper bags instead of polymer canal choker.  Helium balloons were round and made of rubber. Lottery came in the form of Sweepstakes that were sold by peddlers instead of having to scratch a card in a Lotto outlet. Broadsheets had monochrome photos and 8 column format which have all disappeared the day publishers splashed color over a newsprint's nameplate

    They say  life was better in the old times - a fact the elderly would fondly cherish in an age when Twitter sparks revolutions abroad and phone text messages take the role of written love letters. Back when there was less people,  the air was fresh, the streets were safe and people were enjoying a quaint life. The romantic in me would love to see a world when teens still swim across the Pasig River and kids still play in the neighborhood as swathes of masses venerate the doll of Nora Aunor, a pop-star who in old age would be detained abroad and would be forgotten by the rest of the nation.

    This is how everyday life was in the 50's

    But seeing the difference between then and now is like taking away the calesas and replacing the Chevys with Hondas.  There is not much to ponder, only despair. For no matter how nostalgic the reel was,  it seems as the scenes tell that life - as we know it - remains the same.

    Everything in the world is constant.


    Firing Squad

    The  boss  would often say  "andaming naghahanap ng trabaho diyan, if she doesn't shape up, the door is open." This was  in reference to an agent who commits the same error over our system again and again.

    The agent  felt she was entitled and when the office makes her upset, she would post status messages over MSN  regretting her decision to stay.  This gets into the nerves of those tasked to supervise her - including me. Mami Athena told me to stay cool, but lately, she too gets very annoyed by her unwillingness to follow instructions.

    For a  leader who gets depressed when someone leaves the company,  the boss' combative stance is quite unheard of.  Our shifting fortunes, and the string of past mistakes may have led him to maintain some distance from his people. He had asked a lot of agents to leave in the past, but this troublesome lady who had a chat argument with another agent  last week remains in office.

    I  cannot  help but recall the events at work after another round of scandalous drama erupted between the maid and the driver.  I  was about to put Baby Lenin to sleep in my room when the maid suddenly wailed - like she had lost a loved one - downstairs. Being my mom's attack dog, I went to check the commotion and found the maid slumped on the chair. I  already had an idea as to what took place so I called the driver to explain her side.

    "Nagkapikunan lang kami, huwag mong intindihin ito."  Then she went back to her quarters without looking at me. 

    Not satisfied with her answers,  I called her again to explain in detail what happened.  The driver refused to go out.

    Of  all the things I cannot tolerate, insolence goes on top of my list.  The driver's rudeness made worse by the maid's continued howling shot my temper to unknown levels.  I was hardly controlling the expletives I've said.

    I  was shouting at the top of my voice, telling them that they should be ashamed of themselves. Sibling issues had been resolved after the coming of the baby.  The married couple hardly gets into a fight and my maternal relationship is as rosy as ever.  Had we been setting a bad example, they have the right to follow. But seeing them turn into their savage selves, when their employers demonstrate the finest shades of  family togetherness reflect our way of treating others.

    Somewhere along the way, we still fail to keep the peace at home.

    The  maid confessed what happened the night of her altercation. She volunteered to stay at the neighbor's house after its owners left a female relative to look after the couple's infant child by herself. The driver  went to pick the maid, telling her that my mom wants to see her. Just before they were able to get inside the house, the driver slapped the maid, apparently, for no reason at all.

    The next thing we knew, the maid was already pig-shrieking in the living room.

    The  maid  also told  my  mom that she had a relationship with the driver - a  suspicion I  concealed after catching the driver sleeping beside the maid with her arms around her waist.  This was also reinforced by their frequent fights and swift sweet turnarounds, which the maid had kept hidden from view.

    I  have  not spoken to the two since my  rage demonstration. I  also refuse to eat what the maid has cooked out of my disappointment for being part of the trouble.  The driver has already sent her apology  through Facebook admitting her mistake.  She said her patience has been exhausted and she broke down for reasons still unclear to me.  My  hunch is, the maid keeps reminding her of their past, making it a laughable, pitiful story  instead of being sensitive to her feelings.

    By now my sights are set towards finding a possible replacement. After everything that happened, there is a possibility that both of them might pack their things and return to the province. My mom tries to play the peacekeeper role, (even denying the maid's request to go home) and despite her prodding to send a reply and tell the driver how I feel, my heart isn't ready to forgive.

    While this unfolding of events tell how much work needs to be done, it also reveals how poorly equipped I am to handle a crisis.  Shock and awe tactics were necessary to keep the ladies from hurting one another, but the drain it does to me hardly keeps up with my ability to bounce back. A day has passed and I'm still sulked in a sour mood.

    Now I'm beginning to question if  I ever learned anything from Mami Athena's teachings.

    For authoritarian regimes, the easiest solution for any discontent is the firing squad. But for ours reared in equable traditions, it is hard to make moves that will further break down a truce. I do not know how Mami Athena or Bentusi or the Favorite Aunt would act on such matter, but channeling the last traces of Yoda in me, perhaps, it is best to follow what my mom urged.

    Yes, explain to the driver our feelings and hope, that with understanding, the episode we have seen lately will never happen again.




    This is how I think when I was twenty years old:

    "Since I never had relationship with the same sex, the only thing that I could say is that in my case, I find it hard to commit with one partner - I have a girlfriend and at the same time, I do flirt with other... guys and girls. Maybe it's my nature, I really don't know.

    Like what I've said, I'm not into a long-term commitment especially with the same sex. Kaya nga as much as possible I try to control myself from falling... Because I know it's just a quickie infatuation. Companionship would be better since there's no strings attached, at the same time, there are no pressures, and everything else. Once you have committed for a very long time, you're not bisexual anymore, you have become a homosexual.

    As a bisexual, the prime directive is never tell anyone your true identity. You are a secret person... even in bed, i guess.

    Anyway my idea of a perfect setup for a bisexual is that... you have a male (for us) female (for the g-bi) partner, you can both fall in love but you have to take it a level higher than most of us can ever imagine... Always, I think bi's are people who get involve with the same sex but at the same time, gives priority to think of having a family of his/her own ... My concept of having a relationship with the same sex is like having a very close friend, you commit to your friend, you are always together, you know how you feel for each other but at the same time, both of you are aware that you cannot pass as boyfriends/girlfriends for life.

    I guess this is my concept... for now, I just accepted myself just a month ago. I don't know about others, hope they could post about their concept of bisexuality too."

    Alien Nation Thread, 
    March 3, 2002

    There is no doubt as to what I have become. Nine years later, life would refute everything I thought was true.  

    The stark difference between then and now is  that  there was more time to explore. The world  was a blank canvass ready to be painted with memories and life lessons gained by the gay men of our time.

    With  an entire generation of  straight-acting men still hiding inside the closet, concepts as to how to live and conduct oneself were discussed online. Seldom would you hear thoughts laced with sexual innuendos, and misadventures with the same kind, were generally frowned upon.

    Men were more concerned about their place in the universe. So many of them banded together in hopes of crossing the distance and learn who they truly are.

    I grew up at a time when Internet chatting was just new.  Men labeled themselves as bisexuals until it got overused, so people coined new words to tell the same thing.  There were no clans then, and only few groups from  MIRC and Pinoyexchange found  the courage to assemble their ranks. They converged at different spots around Malate proclaiming their turf and their masculinity depending on how distant their ground was from the epicenter that was Orosa. 

    They say  history is written by the victors, and from the time we gained consciousness after the founders of Jackers and Manhood - two of the prominent groups to branch out of  Bi-Manila -  met for the first time; to the effem - straightacting polarity  after the closets came out of hiding;  to the metrosexual awakening brought by the coming of QAF, to the forums of Guys4Men, where sex eyeballs, gay empowerment and clan formation became the issues of the day;  to the ever-changing landscape of Malate and Galera and the revelers who frequent these places, one would realize that acceptance is inevitable.  

    Things may have had a bad start, but worldviews indeed change.

    I may have said the words above back when I was but a blank canvass. But I have lived through a time when everyone thought the parloristas were the only gays.  I  have seen many lives and heard different stories only to learn that in the end, there is no in-between.

    sleeping baabaa

    Bisexuality ends when loving begins.