These Boys Look Familiar?

Who wouldof thought, right? Click on the image to fly to the whole collection. It's almost criminal for art like this to be stuck in just one community. Spread the love!


Thanks to a friend who shall remain anonymous for sharing this. :-)

An Exercise In Passive Aggression

I have been more aggressive than passive this week more than any other week in my whole life -- channeled at the wrong people, unfortunately -- and I suppose I have you to thank for that. I love you fiercely, the Universe knows that, but sometimes it gets terribly frustrating the way you think of me as less of a person because of what I am and how I feel for you. This might sound like a foot in the mouth now, but from the way you've spoken to me the past few days, I can't help but feel offended and completely unjustified.

For instance, it really didn't sound fair when you told me the other day you can't "waste your time trying to help me anymore." First of all, I wasn't asking for your help. I never did, ever since we met. Not that I'm ungrateful -- the Universe knows how much I appreciate your choice to stay within the swirl and swivel of absolute fuck-up that is my life -- but to point that out and slap me in the face with it? That was thoughtless, rude, and almost mean. It made me feel like a clueless, pathetic charity case whose worker suddenly decided to verbalize how ridiculous and pretentious and unoriginal his life was and that he should get back to dealing with his own issues instead of working with sad and hopeless little people who did not ask for his "guidance" -- but thank him -- anyway.

Also, I don't think you understand nor acknowledge the fact that I am a person capable of reason and coherent thought just because I am one of the legions of guys who have fallen in love with you. Sure you tell me I'm smart, but see, I don't think you believe that because in your mind, I belong to that exclusive little box you have for people like me. Now, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, I know -- I understand -- I can't make you reciprocate how I feel for you. I'm owning it, and it's completely my fault that I've made it out to be such a long and painful process, but finally after almost three years I got it to my head that You Do Not Like Me.

And it wasn't some lovelorn 16-year old plea for you to like me back when I told you the other night that I liked you -- especially when it was in response to a question that you asked. If in case you don't remember, you were asking me why I don't bother fixing my life anymore -- again, another attempt at "guiding" me I supposed, but I took the bait and answered you nevertheless. I told you in response, because I felt there really was no reason for me to fix it then, since you -- my insensitive little raison d'etre -- were not going to be a part of it anyway.

Do you remember your knee-jerk reaction? Do you remember what you said? "I'm not attracted to you, P." I wanted to punch you in the face then and there and shout, "I KNOW THAT, YOU ASSHOLE, HAVEN'T YOU BEEN LISTENING? Can't you get over yourself for one second and actually listen to what I'm saying?"

Sigh. You really didn't have to say it again. It hurt everytime you say it. But I suppose it was partly my fault. I could be really patronizing whenever I talk to you. I'd follow you like a stray dog. I can't fully place the blame on you for seeing me as someone not worth wasting your time on -- because I act like I am someone not worth wasting your time on. I hear it over and over again, "You're too nice, P." From you, from the other guys I've dated, "but..." But I don't have to hear anything else anymore. "I'm not attracted to you, P," that's what you said. I wanted to punch you in the face because in my mind, what I heard was, "It's not my fault your life is screwed, P."

We can't really be friends, you said so yourself. That's another thing I have to learn to respect now. No matter how much we talk about music, about books, no matter how many papers I help you with, I guess we can't really pin each other down as friends. With you, there's "Friends," and there's "People Who Fell In Love With Me But I'm Keeping Around Anyway." Knowing where I stand in your life makes me feel a whole lot better.

Just Friends

From xkcd, Dec. 5th posting:


The scary thing is, I can see my pale-skinned face all hollow-eyed and thin-lipped superimposed on the eighth panel.

Things Worth Staying Alive For

Last weekend was made of all kinds of awesome, I couldn't even get a serious minute to sit down and dissect everything that happened over the course of a day past on my journal. Each time I'd get home (early morning, usually -- mere minutes after my aunts have gotten up and are only starting to set up our sari-sari store), I'd be itching to get things written down but exhaustion kept on winning me over. But now that weekend's done and I'm back to living my lazy, languid, and generally unproductive life, I can sit myself down and do a proper recording of events. So while things are still fresh on my mind, let's start with the awesomeness that happened on --


Friday

Actually, if I wanted to be really accurate, it all began on Thursday. Barny, who started working near where I live, wanted to hang out before he went home, so we met up at the Salcedo park to talk and ogle the cute evening joggers in the vicinity. He told me about a party that was happening Friday evening for people in the ad industry and he said he could sneak me in. I reluctantly agreed, but I kind of wanted to go because I knew the food in these parties were sure to be really good and definitely there won't be any shortage of eye candy either.

I wasn't disappointed. Sure, the weather was being mean at the earlier parts of the evening, but gradually it gave way to a clear night sky and crisp, cooling, constant breeze and the Universe let me and Barny have our fun. The food was amazing, and my senses were drowning in a veritable visual feast. Of course there was free beer too! Add to that the intoxicating sensation of having crashed a party, and my brain was shooting out fireworks in every spectra of color.

And if that wasn't enough, I unexpectedly met two people I greatly admire -- Ms. Leigh Reyes and Sir McVie! Turns out that Barny knew Ms. Leigh back from when he was still working as an intern for Adobo Magazine, and Sir McVie is one of Ms. Leigh's good friends.

A little backgrounder: When I was still in college, just about the time I started The White Room, I posted a poem authored by Ms. Leigh entitled Looking for Lightning. It was originally published in a Filipino literary publication called Pen & Ink, and, as the Universe is wont to do, I encountered it at a time when I needed to see something good and beautiful in my life. Here is a reposting:

Looking for lightning,
you stumble constantly.

You walk the nights,
inviting electricity.

Each flash you name
after the lovers you left,
the lovers who left you,

the friends whose last names
you have filed and forgotten.

What can I tell you
that no one else has tried?

I stare at my hands,
their embossed veins.
We have newly met,
under this tree dripping
with the day's rain.
I didn't ask for your soul,

but here you are,
pushing it towards me
with eyes I cannot believe
can still see.

An old man hurries by with his cart
of bottle goldfish. A veiled woman
walks towards us, stops,
moves away.

I want to follow them, but
you grasp my arm.
My heart locks its exits.
You laugh and ease your grip,
then point up beyond the leaves.

I have to look, and there it is.
Streaks flare across the dusk.
You are gone before I can speak.
I close my eyes and see a red smear:
It could be blood.
It could be light.

I have to admit, I still feel the same prickling at the back of my neck everytime I read it. I told Ms. Leigh how much of an inspiration this poem was to me, and how glad I was to have gone to a party I wasn't invited to. :-P She raised a lot of points for me to think about if ever I wanted to pursue writing. I just hope my tender brain wasn't too addled by the amount of beer and lechon I consumed that night.

Sir McVie, on the other hand, is someone I have just recently begun reading. Before this year, I have only been exclusively following the blogs of people I know. Besides, there weren't a lot of gay bloggers then, or at least, I didn't bother to look. But as the force and reach of online journals evolved, the voices of gay Filipino bloggers began to solidify across cyberspace. Sir McVie's blog has been a booming voice in the chorus everyone heard -- gay or straight. He had wise eyes and a firm handshake, and he had the voice and demeanor of a stern but kind mentor. I was deeply honored meeting him last Friday.

Barny and I stayed until about 1:00am. There were still a lot of people, and I would have gladly stayed if only to get more alcohol and cholesterol in my system, but Barny had another party to go to and I promised my mother I'd eat dinner at home. Our hearts were full of nothing but happy however, and we still had something to look forward to for --


Saturday

-- because it was Pride Weekend! This time, I was with Elmer and Barny. Saturday evening found the three of us at Robinson's Place in Manila at around dinnertime where we bumped into Sir McVie once again, who was doing his Christmas shopping while waiting for the after-march party to begin. After killing time at Powerbooks, we decided to roll out and check how far the festivities have gone at Orosa. A few minutes and we came upon the stage where the beauty pageant was being held. All the contestants were absolutely stunning, but unfortunately, that was where our interest ended.

Barny suggested we go to a videoke joint that was nearby and Elmer and I were only glad to agree. The place was very cheap but really cozy and clean, and the selection of songs was very much updated. For the next four hours, we were singing an eclectic playlist of rock tunes and pop songs, from B*Witched (!!!) to Boyzone to Third Eye Blind. Of course Madonna and Kylie were ever-present, with Barny doing incredible renditions of both icons' dance moves.

At around 2:00am, we decided we've had enough wailing and thought it might be time to check out the crowd. Nothing of note held our attention for more than a few minutes, except maybe seeing the occasional acquaintance or someone we knew from our specific individual circles who might or might not have been out. We were almost about to call it a night, but I received a text message from another friend, Mikey, asking us where we were and what our plans for the rest of the evening would be. I told him we were getting bored of Malate and we'd rather pick him up at Makati instead. Half an hour later, the four of us were together having a mid-evening meal at Wendy's along Makati Avenue. Mikey and I haven't seen each other for quite a while so that gave us a chance to catch up.

After everyone was full and recharged, we thought it would be a good idea to hang out a bit more for coffee after, but we all changed our minds at the last minute and trudged on back to Malate to spend the last few hours of the night at Bed. We were there for only about 30 minutes, but it felt like it was the proper way to end the party. Elmer and I got back home 6:00am. We were both trying to stave off sleep because I was supposed to meet a friend, Ly, at 11:00am --


Sunday

I set my alarm to wake me up every hour so I can check if Ly's sent a message, letting me know what time he'll be dropping by. I finally received one by 12:00nn, saying he'd be here at around 2:00pm. That gave me and Elmer enough time to get some more sleep.

Whenver Ly visits, I always make sure to show him new videos I have acquired through the slumming I do online. This time, most of the treasures I had were gay-themed stand-up comedy videos. While walking him through some of my favorites, we were all sharing a cocktail mix of gin and orange juice, which got both Ly and I in a moderately pleasant buzz-state by early evening.

It was already 8:00pm when we all decided to leave -- way past the time I was supposed to meet up with another group of friends. Ly rode with me and Elmer to Metrowalk where he got a cab home. After we saw him off, we got together Momi Dea, Marie, Pong, Kat, and Lester -- friends from the company I used to work with. We got right down to business and ordered a bucket of beer to kick off our group's beta-reunion. Pao, another friend from the same company, joined us at about 1:00am just before we transferred to Jay-J's along Julia Vargas. the festivities ended at about 4:00am with promises of a trip to Baguio, a Christmas Party, and more crazy office stories from the ones left working.

Elmer dropped me off at my place before he headed home to Parañaque. Surprisingly, I wasn't at all exhausted, so I brought a mug of coffee to my room while catching up with what's been happening online. I barely noticed the morning sun tracing lines of yellow light through the cracks of my room's wooden walls -- the cool December air still clinging like a blanket in the atmosphere. I dragged open my window, set my mug down on its ledge, gathered my pillows as I was lying down, and closed my eyes to the first rays of --


Monday

Where I slept the whooooooooooole day. :-)