Thursday, November 13, 2008
Browsing at my phone contacts, I saw G's name. To text or not to text.
Well, I managed to gather all my courage and actually typed up a message and texted it over to G. Started with the basic, "How's your day so far?" G replied and we exchanged a few more messages.
Will we meet up tonight? Well... NO - I didn't expect to go out tonight but agreed that we should meet up soon! With friends of course. This weekend I hope.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Dirty numb angel boy
In the doorway boy
She was a lipstick boy
She was a beautiful boy
And tears boy
And all in your inner space boy
He had hand girls boy
And steel boy
He had chemicals boy
I've grown so close to you boy
And you just groan boy
She said come over come over
She smiled at you boy
Some tracks for tonight... love the new mix of Born Slippy by Underworld (Joe K vs Beto Dias Remix) which has a sour candy electro feel. Of course... I have to sing-a-long... Naman... As besty calls it... Larvatious!
Underworld - Born Slippy 2008 (Joe K vs Beto Dias Remix)
D'Azoo at Night - Tango in Tokyo (Extended Mix)
King Amir - The Whistle (Extended Mix)
Rune RK - Put Your Hands Up for Copenhagen (Trentemoller Remix)
Afrojack The Partysquad - Drop Down Do My Dance
Benny Royal & Ludaphunk - Dance Electric (Original Mix)
Lykke Li - Dance, Dance, Dance (Dada Life Guerilla Fart #4)
Blake Jarrell - The Drugs (Rene Amesz Remix)
TV Rock - Been A Long Time (Axwell Remode)
Sander van Doorn - Apple (Bart B More Remix)
Unresolved relationships, open-ended events, issues long forgotten can be like those missing pages, and I am someone who needs to know what happens.
I need some closure on some stories that happened from the past.
Instead of wallowing in doubt (Was it me? What did I do?), I whip up a satisfactory denouement to tie up any loose ends.
It’s a cop-out to think of yourself as the hero, and the other party as the villain. There is no good and bad. Everyone is equally complicated. There are no extenuating circumstances (although they help with melodramas), and the basic story is kept simple.
Hopefully, it all ends well, even if there are no happy endings. I hope to close some chapters in my book. Maybe not everything. But I have to start.
Sometimes closure must be created on the page, read and accepted to help shut the book close, and placed back on the shelf.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth being nice all the time. When I’m nice, things are great for everyone involved:
I write them a note or send them SMS when they’re not feeling well. I call them so they know they’re being thought about. I try to put a smile on their faces. I make them feel like they’re cared for and someone is thinking about them.
That’s what I do when I care about someone.
But then, sometimes, it seems that my efforts are not that appreciated. When I try to be selfish aka spend some time for myself, I look overly apathetic. When it's my time to share my own stories and issues, it is as if I'm dismissed.
That is why these days, I try to become that apathetic person and be that walking bastard,at least when you’re an asshole, no one has high expectations. And, I don’t need that kind of stress in my life.
Why should I bother to care when it’s so much easier being evil?
Friday, September 12, 2008
Since bluffing isn't allowed in this game, you have two options: fold them, or hold them. If you quit, you may not have anything to gain. If you don't quit, you may not have anything to lose.
Sometimes your hand isn’t the greatest, but it’s just enough to take the prize. Other times, you’re not so lucky.
The fingers on your hand begin to quiver and small beads of sweat form around your hairline. The stress is showing. You know what you can offer and you want to show your hand.
But you don’t, fearing that it’s not enough to win. You admit defeat.
Your ace of hearts is protected, and don’t show it to the other player.
In the end, you don’t want to lose. But, sometimes you have to.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
The first reason is because flirting is done as a means to get something out of someone else; a reaction, mostly. When I want something from someone, I ask for it. I don’t play games, or act coy. Impatience has taught me that a little too well.
The second reason is that I really don’t like is when the other person doesn’t stop… and then you start to get the wrong impression. And, that impression always leads you down the one path that the cynic in you doesn’t want. Do they like me? Why else would they be acting that way if they didn’t? But, if they’re flirting, then does that mean they don’t really like me and are just playing a game?
Of course, I’d rather know to save me from any potential heartbreak, but a part of me wants to keep believing they really like me because that thought is what keeps hope alive.
Not aside from flirting, there's this phenomena I want to call "Eye Fucking." Geez. Just get over it and have a good hump!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
It’s seems to be everywhere: on television, radio, Internet, inside, outside, even in outer space. You can’t escape it. It’s all around you.
Not surprisingly, one of the most prevalent places to find sex is online. Millions of sites exist with every kind of fetish available. Photos, films, and an endless list of products are right at your fingertips.
Unfortunately, after a while, what was originally entertaining, begins to look and sound the same.
Fantasies are situated in exotic locals, with lighting which hides stretch-marks and cellulite, everyone is a willing nymphomaniac (with no gag-reflex), model-perfect with a gym-sculpted body. Sometimes there are three or four partners (if not more) in endless orgies where everyone knows how to use every part of their body in every position known to man (and even some just discovered).
Naturally, it all ends with earth-shattering orgasms, a cigarette and afterglow.
There must be another - more realistic - side to this. The side where things aren’t always perfect, where things go seriously wrong, tragically hilarious and really, really ugly.
I want to hear stories where fucking isn’t on Frette sheets, people aren't perfect, have a little flab and unnecessary body hair. There are smells and inappropriate bodily functions, and people hurt themselves attempting to recreate positions in the Kama Sutra because no one knows what they’re doing.
Instead of having them come, you’d rather see them go.
Now, that's entertaining.
There is a lot more that I can write about, but it would get too graphic. And, I’m not that kind of guy who likes to go there.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Does “Forever” exist?
Looking back at my 2nd failed relationship, a good two month stint that must end after I found out that I was only 2nd in my ex’s life.
I also realized that I need to stop seeing ‘R’ because I am R’s extra curricular activity. The glorified other man.
And just recently, I am witness of screaming infidelities.
Sorry, but never will you see me in the bleachers cheering for open relationships.
The future is uncertain. I really don’t want to talk more about open relationships. But if that’s the only way that relationships last, then I guess I rather be a spinster and sip wine from my veranda.
In a way… I still am hoping that happily ever after exists. I haven’t found mine, nor found me.
Or maybe it’s really just a fairytale.
I need someone to make me believe in happily ever afters.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
"I like you! Want to cuddle you! Kiss you!"
So why do "R" not kissed me before leaving...
"R" has a boyfriend, was also at the club that time.
I'm meeting "R" later. I don't know why, obviously there's not future for us. I don't know...
Actually, I do...
I like "R"
Take for example, a period when work and play cannot mingle. Twelve-hour days are not common. I wake up, get ready for work, commute, work, commute, get ready for bed, and go to sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. Yet while this is happening, some people are pulling at my pantlegs, like needy children. As much as I want to push them aside, I know that's not what a parent would .
It's hard having a couple of playdates in one week, especially when they're both on the same day. I'm only one man. I can't be in two places at the same time. Also, I can't split myself in half to please two people (although I can split someone in half to please myself).
Where the hell are you when I have time on my hands? Huh? I have no way to enjoy it with someone else. All this fucking free time can kiss my ass.
Well, i have to choose because I cannot juggle to dates in one night. I'm gonna meet up with "R" this evening. Sorry "E," maybe next week.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Each and every one of the other women wants the bouquet, but admits to defeat to the one who with the longest arms, or best reach. In the end, they feign happiness to the bitch that caught it with the whorish clothes and make-up, bad dye job, halitosis and a snaggle-tooth.
What women don’t realize is those pretty flowers aren’t about the promise of marriage, but the promise of possibilities and opportunities.
Being a man, I have never been in the bouquet toss, but I know what it feels like to have the promise of something coming towards me, while some unworthy opponent seizes it from my hands like the fucking jaws of life.
It is bothersome watching people who don’t do anything special to deserve much, have these things thrust at them. And, since they’re nonchalant about it all (they have to be since they already have it all), they just sigh and brush it off as if it happens everyday… which it does.
Coming in second sucks and sucks the life out of you.
You never get to wear the pretty white dress and tiara. There is no special treatment for you on the special day. And, no one tells you how beautiful you look even though they’re pretending not to notice you’re five months pregnant.
Instead you get to wear the fugly dress with all the pink ruffles and layers of tulle that make you look like two dozen ballerinas exploded all over you at a cake shop. And it is not true when they say that fugly is the new pretty. And you get treated like shit because your skin is blemish free (due to the lack of pregnancy hormone fluctuations), your hair is perfect, and don’t need three seamstresses sewing you into something that is four sizes too small. Not that I want to wear a dress but it’s the closest metaphor that I can think of.
I am always a bridesmaid and never a bride.
And, I know from personal experience. Fortunately, it’s easy for me to lose weight; stop eating so much.
No more snacking in the middle of the day. No more chocolate to crave my hunger when it strikes. No more eating at late hours before going to bed. If I was desperate for something to munch on, I’d grab an apple for its sweetness and crunch factor.
Sadly, as the pounds drop, the crankiness rises.
There are times when I’m even more irritable than normal. The only thing on my mind is food. Even though I don’t need to eat, I want to eat. A lot. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as it’s full of fat and calories. Naturally, that means the “healthy choices” are to be left by the wayside while I stuff my face with food that negates the hard work I’ve been doing to lose the weight.
But, I don’t care. I’m thin and cranky.
Give me some chips. I want chips. Now! I don’t care, anymore. Give me some fucking chips before I rip your head off. Grrr…
Friday, July 04, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
I am not sure how it all began – I suspect it could have had something to do when I sniffed a pentel pen up in my nostrils.
Months ago, I met this young guy who looked like he had too much of something. At least he does not look socially crippling or embarrassing. We were introduced before but I guess he forgot who I was. We were re-introduced and we partied with his special friend that night. After a quick minute, he disappeared.
Weeks after, we started exchanging bitchy comments at Multiply. Later on, I found out that he was a grade school classmate of my 3 close buddies. The grade school classmate who hates Sailormoon.
Daily YM chats, exchanging party stories and MP3 sharing came next. Our world became smaller and smaller upon knowing that he knows this who happens to be my that.
He left Vietnam and decided to work here again. I received a unexpected call, that he’s already in Makati. I was in Subic that time, enjoying the cool breeze in the air and the solace that the resort offered… inside my room watching HBO.
A week after, we saw each other at the club. Then the connection was established.
Weird thing though, I never thought I’d be close to him instantly. Well, we share common interests but that’s about it. I don’t consider him as my best friend as I really don’t like the BFF concept. We just clicked and I am truly grateful and thankful for meeting such a… friend.
A couple of weeks ago, we started calling each other “bro.” Ridiculing the word itself, pathetic when you hear it with gay circles as if it re-assures how manly you are only to find out that you like wearing your mom’s 4-inch heels.
I became his own personal diary, sharing how complicated his love life is. It’s like a 3-4x therapy session whenever we have the chance to talk. He will drain your energy but you’ll be entertained. He became my gimmick buddy and job head hunter, my Nova Villa and bully-buddy. Beware when the two of us unite.
Tomorrow, we will celebrate his 25th birthday! I guess he already has everything (except for the SLR camera that he wanted), and like what he said to me a while ago, this is his year.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAO!
I wish you all the goodness that life has to offer… and pancit for long life.
*syet... bakit ganyan hair mo? hahahaha. Parang Sarimanok. Hahahaha.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Not wanting to oversimplify what my horoscope says, but it goes something like, You'll find that you will be falling in a way you never expect and when you fall, you fall hard.
Great. Falling hard. Another complication in my life. No matter how many times I try to feel Zen, simplification never happens. It's so frustrating.
Now.. getting hard is another thing. Well, junior is working really hard last time I checked. Anyway...
Sadly, the horoscope is partially on the mark. I am starting to fall. A little. Why do I feel this way? When I think of you, a smile washes across my lips. Sometimes a smirk replaces the smile. So it seems, it's all about the mouth.
It's like ice cream on a sunny day, just melting through my fingers. How I like your sugar sweetness, how it always seems to linger...
Why am I doing this dance? One step forward, one step back, one to the left and one to the right. Always ending up in the same place. I never get anywhere.
What is wrong with this picture? It's summer. The sun is out and the weather is hot. This time of the year is all about fun. Shouldn't I be having fun? Should I just shut up and enjoy the flavour?
Thank God summer is almost over.
I'm tired of horoscopes. And, I'm hungry.
Friday, May 23, 2008
That’s what I’ve been saying all along for over a year now. Happiness is a decision. We choose to be sad, to be lonely, and to be apathetic. We choose ways how to be happy. We search for it. We succeed. We fail. That is how life puts us on a pedestal: Waiting for us to react on the tomatoes being thrown at us. Do we catch it or let it smash our faces?
I took a step back and checked where my life is right now. Where am I going? What am I doing? I decided that I would like to take stock of what I have created and not created. What I have achieved and not achieved and what needs to be done. Am I at peace with myself? Am I ready to take on the world and seek new challenges? Am I.....am I......am I.Maybe I should not be thinking too hard and let the heart do the talking again....
I sometimes hide behind my smiles and silly gestures. I take quick glances while I think eyes cannot see and when I'm done, I turn away before those eyes catch me being me. Eyes and lips, they are like Medusa's stare turning simple things to stone like words that bruise emotion and crush the soul. Keeping things tucked away till they escape in ink upon my paper and then through my fingers via the machine in "0"'s and "1"'s. Yes sometimes, I want to scream so people will notice me for more than my stature and talents, to scream so people will stop their gossiping tongues. You may ask how I managed to hide and not be seen behind my happiness. I have to hide a part of myself that is as much as part of me as my intelligence and my blood.
Amid all the stings and joys of life, I asked myself, “Do I know who I truly am?”
I am the sum of every year, every month, every day, every hour, every minute and every second of my own life. Each moment that I breathe is another moment to take in each blessing I received. Through my eyes, my mind takes pictures of everything I see. My ears hear and my mind records. I am the sum of everything that is around me. Life is what I’ve made of it but it’s also a part of the influence about me. My life is what I made it so far.
Through the trials of life, I want to stand strong and grow in stature that I must pass through the trials of fire that we all must pass through. I am not asking for more trials to walk through because I know that more hardships will come before me. But life always put me up on the pedestal. Without them, I cannot be shaped into a better man; my character cannot be made more solid. There is in each refiner's fine, a beauty that touches our lives. Each flame burns away the rough edges and when those fires are quenched I am left a different man. The fires burned away at each rough edge until what was left was, is a glimmer of shiny metal, that now shines above it all. Around me, the heat of flames has been quenched and the pains of the trial have been soothed. If I must pass through again, then I will be stronger still. For being stronger is the only choice that I have left.
But am I happy. In general, I am not.
What am I truly missing? Is it the affection of a one true love? Is it the kindness of people around me who I long for? Or is it not finding who I really am?
I’ve been on a quest since my early teen to find myself to the world. Fear of finding my world collapsing has kept me from announcing what I’ve found to the world, while around me people seem to ignore what I’ve known since twelve. They can’t embrace what, they cannot see. The longer, I sit with fear in my heart. The longer I’ll sit with a wall about me, hiding in its core a part of that needs to breathe, so it be sustained. I have every right to free myself from the clutches of my fear. When I gaze into a mirror, I can see all the pain lying beneath my skin, and it scares me when I look into my own inky darkness. I need to find my way among the shadows that loom out from my trapped soul. Sometimes, it seems that I'll never be free enough to be true to my spirit. Why if the world seems to scream at who I am, do I bother to search for me? Without being whole, I would forever feel lost to myself. My vision of life would never be completed, and it would forever haunt me until the day, that my soul finally shouts "Yes!"
My eyes are heavy from sleep not attained last night. My hearing seems fine expect for at times, the sounds around seem much too loud. My mind seems to be cluttered perhaps for the same reason that my eyes want to close and not open. The words, I write seem to take longer to exit out upon the paper. My thoughts lay scattered across my minds great divide. My mind and hands work so hard to get each letter, each word to flow just so. I just don’t know what part of me is voicing these scattered words today. My heart or my mind, though right now my mind seems empty of any intelligent thought. It’s just the way things go when someone feels lost.
So far, what I want in my life is to be able to just be me. Opportunities come every once in while, but it’s not nearly enough. I would go crazy if, I couldn’t be me.
I often wonder what people are thinking, those that find out about me and those who just think they know about me. Do the people who just think they know about me act differently around me then those who know about me? Do those who think they know about me see me as a threat? I wonder how many people create instant assumptions about me without taking the time to get to know me. Good for them. They already know the totality of who I am while I still search my true identity.
Somewhere between here and there, there sits a bridge that once crossed is gone for good. . There isn't any middle ground between here and there. You're either here or there.
I guess I’m still here…
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
But, there is one skill I’ve never understood why people talk about: kissing.
How can a subjective skill be rated on by the individual doing the deed? Last time I rememer, kissing is dependant on the POV of others.
Even if it is true, how does it happen? Not everyone is naturally talented (no matter what their over-inflated egos think). When dealing with kissing, could it be a matter of practice makes perfect: The more people you kiss, the better you are at it?
It’s not the same as people who talk about their sexual prowess. People can have lots of sex, but that means they’re whores, and nothing more. Kidding. Insert A into B. Remove A from B. Repeat. Kissing is much more complicated, with more calculations than a quadratic equation. Exponential limits even.
Of course, no one would ever admit to being a bad kisser. That’s lunacy.
So, whatever the answer (natural born talent, or macking machine), all I have is one question: Can I get in on some practice?
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
All of this over the first time. The first phone call.
It all begins when a certain set of numbers passes your way. Since the first step is taken by someone else, it's your turn to follow-up. The ball is in your court and you have to know how to play the game. Don't be an ass and wait three days. They gave you their number for a reason.
How do you handle the situation? Should you be funny and crack a couple of jokes? Should you be sexy? Should you just be yourself and act like a total loser and trip over your thoughts and words like a prepubescent teenager?
Now onto your voice. Should you go for Barry White, although your tone resembles that of Fran Drescher? Not knowing what to do, you settle on your version of Kathleen Turner - a touch raspy, and a cigarette away from lung cancer.
Little beads of sweat form near your hairline. Your eyes squint and dry your mouth twitches. What is supposed to be dry is wet and what is supposed to be wet is dry. Gotta love evolution.
Thankfully, no one can see you. God forbid if they knew what you looked like when you were calling. Who would give you a second glance if they saw you wearing a ratty pair of boxer shorts and nothing else?
Your hand reaches for the phone and your fingers tap on the hard plastic. While one hand picks the handset, the other dials the numbers. From a distance, a phone starts to ring. Someone picks up.
It does what it’s supposed to do and it does so effectively.
But, it doesn’t work for me.
From my experience, I find it to be hilarious. In fact, when I hear it, I begin to giggle and the giggle turns into a laugh. And, no one wants to laugh in these kinds of situations.There could be several reasons for the hilarity:
1. The things being said are ridiculous.
2. The things being don't feel genuine.
3. The things being said sound like porn parody.
4. Their mouth should be busy doing something else.
I'm sure there are other things that are no-nos, but I can't think of them now because I'm too busy laughing.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
As I was scanning the narrow aisles, some fat-assed woman and her husband we're standing smack in the middle gawking at the candy section. Hoping to browse on the other side of the woman, I figured I was skinny enough to try to squeeze behind her, unfortunately grazing her fat ass in the process. She instantly turns to her husband and says, loud enough for me to hear:
"You know what word has fallen out of the English language? Manners."
Admittedly, I didn't bother to even whisper an "excuse me" as I passed, but she saw me coming at her and didn't bother to move. Given her obvious sense of old lady entitlement, I suppose her comment isn't all that surprising of a reaction. I glared at her afterwards, but she didn't notice, and I briefly thought of responding with: "Was that comment intended for me? It wouldn't have happened if your fat ass wasn't taking up the entire aisle," but then I figured I wouldn't stoop to her passive-aggressive level (or what would have been pure aggressiveness in my case).
At any rate, the brief unfortunate episode made me feel even worse (on top of the fact the store didn't have the chips I wanted).
Got any Mr. Chips? Care to share?
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
When the name of an asshole is typed in the Google search engine, I wait for the results to appear. If the number of hits is low, a smile comes across my face. Not many. That’s good. While perusing through the links, I notice that they haven’t done anything, or have had much success.
Unless they have.
Then, I get pissed, especially when they don't deserve to be successful.
A few of the links have contact information. Maybe I'll be polite and send them a note and congratulate them on their success. But, fuck politeness. I know what these people did to get where they are. They have no empathy, no affect. They managed to do stab others in the back without breaking a sweat.
Although the big thing to do is to put aside any unresolved feelings of bitterness due to their littleness, that won't happen. I can't fake sincerity. You can practically see sparks being produced when my teeth are clenched into something resembling a smile.
They won't receive a note saying I'm so happy for you! from me, because I'm really not.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
That's not me. I’m not that dedicated. Well, I used to. I went to the gym for the wrong reasons, superficial reasons. Narcissist
True, I’m not overweight in any sense of the word. For those who have met me, know my body is lean and that of a runner: taut and toned, but not muscular. You’ll find more fat on a chicken cutlet then on my thighs. Even if I wanted to look better by eating right and working out, I don’t think I’d want to. After a long day at the office, I would rather get home, change clothes, have a light dinner, and crash in front of the couch for a ½ hour while eating a bag of potato chips.
An extra hour of my day to work out would mean an extra hour lost in bed (and I don't get to sleep much, so that ain’t happenin’). And, I wouldn't go to an extreme to change my body to please someone else. If you don't like me the way I am, then somebody else will.
Then again, if I was overweight and no one gave me a passing glance, my fat ass would be on a treadmill before you could say gastric bypass.
To those who do what you do to look the way you do (you know who you are), keep up the good work. I’m not the only one who appreciates it. Wanna potato chip?
Friday, April 25, 2008
But, Goldilocks was fortunate enough to choose between three bowls of porridge. Many of us aren’t that lucky. Sometimes there are only two bowls, and other times, only one. Instead of sitting down, many people would rather skip the meal because it’s not exactly what they ordered.
In a way, the aforementioned fairy tale is a lot like life.
You leave a mate because they have an annoying habit. Your friend isn't approved of in your social circles, so you pretend they don't exist. Your job isn’t the one you planned for, so you do it half-assed. You spend hours in the gym because you never feel buff enough. Your walls are painted several times because you can’t find the right shade of white.
And on and on…
It seems like no one is ever satisfied with good enough on the road to perfection.
But, consider the alternative.
What would’ve happened if Goldilocks never had that third bowl of porridge? Would she have passed the first two? Who knows? She never gave the other bowls a chance. Too hot? Wait for it to cool down, or throw it in the fridge for a few seconds. Too cold? Nuke it in the microwave. And, if those two fail, add the two bowls together, mix the contents et voila, the perfect porridge!
You miss out on so much by passing on potential. If you don’t like something the way it is, try to change it. No one is born perfect. No one dies perfect. Be happy for what you have. You have so much more than you know.
Well, some of my friends know that I am not-so-miserable, but at least I can adapt to those other happy fuckers who are around me without having to resort to homicide.
Eh, maybe I just need to take a walk through the woods… Tip-toe. Tick Tack.
Anyway, back to Goldilocks. That biatch deserved what she got when those bears mauled her ass.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
On more than one occasion, I’ve had people ask me if I was the person they were talking about in a certain story. Quite often, they’re not. They’re just being paranoid.
Whatever their reason is for paranoia is what makes me smirk. Are they really so egocentric to think everything is about them? Probably. Probably, not. I’m not their therapist.
If I ever write about a specific situation or conversation, I tell that person what I’m doing. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll send them an early draft of the story just to see their reaction. It’s usually positive, but if it isn’t, then I know to generalize some elements because I don’t want to tread on dangerous territory.
But, most of the time, I’m not writing about anyone in specific. The people I talk about are composites of several people I know - that’s what happens when your social circle is comprised of several hundred people.
Then again, there are times where I throw caution to the wind and write about someone I know without telling them. But when all else fails, remember this: I’m not talking about you, unless I am.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
There are some people who are always in the picture even after you have taken them out of the frame and thrown it away. They get under your skin, and not in the good way. They are a part of your past and it is difficult to forget about them - lobotomy included.
Sometimes, when you think they are gone for good, they pop up at the most inopportune time: right before the last synaptic memory has re-programmed itself in your brain. Then, they are back.
It is at this moment where you want them to be gone. Forever. It is not that you want them dead, per se, you just do not want them to be alive. Or, at least, alive in your head. You want them to disappear. Vanish. Exiled into oblivion. Into the ether. And, you never want to think about them, again.
Just when you think they are gone for the umpteenth time, they reappear. And, the cycle starts all over again. Fuckers.
Friday, March 28, 2008
I am officially on the hunt for a partner… to be more specific.. someone who wants to be in a very monogamous long-term relationship. Okay.. I'm scaring applicants right now. Errr...
Been spending my days with single friends, sometimes surrounded by happy couples… I’ve been single for a year… Well, not that there’s something wrong with being single but I’m tired of people staring at me with this thought balloon in their heaads. “Why is he still single?” So there. Anyway… just need to be more serious and less playful. I need a date. Not a casual hook-up (well… let’s just slow down on hook-ups.. hehehe).
I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to accomplish the said goal yet, but at least for the moment, I'm determined to try. And that's something.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
In a way, magnets can be similar to people.
For example, take two people with the same wants, needs and desires. But, they're too similar, and in turn, end up repulsing each other. What was once attraction, is now repulsion. A relationship is fractured. While they can get close, their like “charges” force them to stay apart.
There are two bodies with one shared motherfucker of a conflict. They know you too well because they're - another version of - you. You can't win a fight because they know every move, and even I want to have something hidden away just in case I'll need it for the divorce proceedings.
If one could only flip one person around for the laws of attraction to work effectively. Maybe opposites do attract. It's just too bad people aren't magnets.
Monday, March 17, 2008
There is something broken that needs fixing, and it should be taken care of immediately.
There are a lot of things about me that are repellent to others and I have to make a concerted effort to remedy them.
Time for change. Time to get my groove back.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Without having the ability to see something, how can you fall in love with the unseen? Check out personal sites, like mine.
Don't get me wrong, I am not saying people are in love with the site. But, if they don't like cake, they shouldn't stick their finger in the batter.
Do they really stick around for my thoughts on certain topics that interest me? That can be the only logical reason.
They aren't trolling for sex (although there is a lot of screwing over). They aren't looking for any nudity. And, they certainly aren't going to find anything dirty lingering around. They don't see anything, but they read a lot. And, they get to know a lot. They get to come inside of me and see what lurks in the light and dark corners and crevices.
It's personal. It's intimate. It borders on attraction. Sight unseen.
Love at first sight? How about interest at first read...?
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
“Friends with benefits” is a widely-used term used to describe two people who have a relationship (but are not dating) and have sex with each other. When they have an itch, the other is there to scratch it for them. It’s a very simple – and carnal – version of quid pro quo.
But, I always thought of it as being a rather complicated scenario. What happens when you’re no longer friends? Should you still expect a little action? What happens when you want it to be something else, but the other person wants to continue with what you have?
To alleviate all of that, I think it’s best to come up with a new relationship: acquaintances with benefits.
Basically, it’s the same relationship as the aforementioned one, but there’s no emotional attachment involved. You can spend time with them, have a drink, go shopping, etc. before falling into bed. It makes you feel less sullied (especially if one-nighters aren’t your thing), and there’s none of the messiness involved if things take a turn for the worse.
It’s win-win for both parties.
Monday, March 10, 2008
When The Rolling Stones sang this line, they didn’t know how prescient it would be. Even when life is filled with champagne wishes and caviar dreams, no one can snap their fingers and have anything presented to them on a silver platter. And when it comes to matters of the heart, there is no amount of wanting that can make someone unattainable want you in return.
Normally, there are three kinds of unattainability:
1. You like someone, but him/her doesn't know who you are.
2. You like someone, but him/her doesn't like you the way you like them.
3. You like someone, but him/her doesn't like you.
They all have their good sides and bad sides. Some may be better than others, while some may be worse than others. It all depends on the person and the situation.
The first situation is where no one gets hurt (usually). You see them from afar and you can daydream and plan your life with them. Quite often, these fantasies entail celebrities or those who are on a higher social echelon (money, looks, education, a combination of all of the above). The only vested interest is that of a visual nature.
The second situation is the most painful. It typically is the most emotionally draining. Quite often, the reason why they don’t like you is because they like someone else more than you (which is fair). But, if they are a flirt or enjoy playing games, they can lead you on for an undetermined amount of time. You end up wasting precious time and energy on someone who doesn’t want you even though you’re hoping that they’ll leave their current paramour for you.
The third situation is like a Band-Aid that is ripped off: a sharp sting, but then it’s over in a couple of seconds. There can be a red mark, maybe a bit of skin removed, and a couple of drops of blood, but you’ll survive since you have developed a thicker skin after situation number two.
In the end, no situation is ideal. Your heart can be lonely, played with, or ripped out of your chest while it’s still beating. If it was ideal, you’d always get what you want, no matter what The Rolling Stones sing.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
For the past several months, I have noticed there are several kinds of hugs people give. The people who give them range in personalities and their intentions are always different.
There’s one between family members. They grab you, kiss you on the cheeks, and promptly let you go because they realize you’re going to have a long drive back home (and they don't want the Taupperware container full of food to spoil).
There’s one between you and a friend that’s nonchalant. They wrap their arms – loosely – around you, and pat you on the back as if they’re doing it out of pity... and they usually are.
There’s one between you and a friend that’s happy you’re there because they haven’t seen you in a long time. They hold you in, their arms crossed against your back, and they squeeze just a touch so as not to make it seem ‘uncomfortable’ between both parties involved.
There’s the one between you and someone who doesn’t like to hug. They wrap their arms around you, almost clumsily, and the feeling is almost awkward as you realize they more comfortable holding a prickly cactus.
There is one between you and someone who feel like they’re going to lose you. They hold you so tight, believing if they let go, they’ll never see you again. Their muscles start to tense and their body tremors. You feel empathy because of their impending loss. When you release, you’re still shaking.
Whatever the type of hug, just remember that each one is special in their own way.
Well… maybe the pity one I can live without.
If I had to use a series of words (this time, five) to describe myself, I’m sure they’d remain the same in the following years. Maybe the order would shift around, but after 25+ years of living, I’d say consistency isn’t only a virtue, but a cliché by now. In no particular order, my five words are:
Of course, I can use hot, sexy, well-hung, insatiable, and pornolicious as words to describe myself, but this is a list of five words, not ten.
Friday, February 29, 2008
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world
There are songs which are irrevocably linked with joyous moments of our lives. Whether it’s a birth, a wedding, or a celebration of any sort, the combination of music and lyrics has a magical effect on our senses.
But, sometimes they’re bittersweet in their meaning.
Whenever I hear this song, for those few minutes, my heart visits the past. I listen to the song for as long as I can stand, without breaking inside. As it plays, my mind begins to count the memories, hoping the good ones outnumber the bad.
Before the song ends, I press the skip button to change the music. Inevitably, I need to finish the song before it finishes with me. And, I don’t want to hurt, anymore.
Let’s waste time
Around our heads
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
There are some compliments I hear that bother me, especially when the person receiving them shouldn’t. When some people are called cute and aren’t, then I know a line has been crossed.
Cute is considered to be an innocent and (possibly) youthful sexiness. It’s not hard and overt, but soft.
Even though cute is subjective, there are some people who are or who aren’t. This bothers me because I don’t think they’re cute. In fact, some of them I think aren’t attractive, at all. Yet, it seems like everyone thinks they are. Is there something I can’t see, and are they really cute? Are they really not cute, and are people just complimenting them because they’re trying to be nice by inflating the other person’s feeling of self worth?
Then again, I shouldn’t talk about it because I have been called cute and I’m sure there are a hell of a lot of people who think differently.
Still, if Matt Damon can be called cute even though he resembles someone who was smacked with a case of Down Syndrome up side the head, then I know cute has lost all value as a word.
Friday, February 22, 2008
It’s not too late to make resolutions. I’m making 8 resolutions or shall I say 8 vows for 2008…
1. I vow not to waste my time on things that "seem important" (e.g take my MBA because "it seems important" or brush my hair 100 times a day because it "seems important")
2. Having mentioned number one, I vow to spend my time on things that are important. (e.g family, work, my life's purpose and my health)
3. I vow to spend money only on things I really need and to take joy in simply looking at pretty things I don't need. (e.g candies and cakes diet).
4. I vow to take full responsibility for my face. Hence, I will only frown at things that really need frowning at (like people who MUST NOT WEAR skinny jeans and people who barely knows what good fashion is) and take time to consider things I never thought were worth smiling for (like banana flambe that tastes like kerosene or eating yellow paper (at least i know what they taste like)) btw, brown paper tastes better.
5. I vow to internalize that success is a journey and not an end. Hence, now is not too early to declare that I am successful.. and that everyday is a chance to feel successful. (no punchline there, sorry..).
6. I vow to overlearn that happiness is not the moving bunny in a horse race nor the star at the top of your christmas tree nor feeling high at around 3am. Happiness is ..the muscles of your abs. (you may have not felt it yet but believe me, it's there- it's inside of you).
7. I vow not to commit to anything that doesn't give me a reason to wake up cheerfully the next morning...or noon...or afternoon..(if you consider late night parties).(e.g sleeping gives you a reason to wake up cheerfully the next morning therefore, I will commit to that..also, love, hope and world peace, seriously).
8. Finally, I vow not to make a career of something just because I am good at it. It has to be something I am good at, something which I enjoy doing and something my life's experiences has prepared me to do (something that involves a stage, a microphone, and dim lighting). I’ve worked for a lot of companies and I realized that it is better if you really like the job and not just the salary that goes with it. Believe me, money is not everything.
I really wish anyone who reads this would learn a thing or two from the echoing of my brain into this deep deep well. But if not...I'd still feel like a success. Well as far as I know, not everyone would try to eat yellow paper just to know what it tastes like.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Would you screw someone over just to get ahead? Would I screw someone over just to get ahead? How can anyone use someone to get ahead? Is the world really about jabbing someone in the back? It is really sort of sad. I’m sure it’s more common then I like to think. Actually, I hope it’s not all that common. Everyone should get by on their own merits. Yes? No?
How ethical is it to place misfortune on someone else? You shouldn’t make someone else look bad just to make yourself look better. There is no reason to drag someone down for no reason. I believe those who screw people over will eventually face karma. Shouldn’t we get by on our own merits?
Yes, we should be able to get ahead without knocking someone else.
This post represents my random thoughts on the subject. I think it is very sad indeed. The whole idea of using someone else to just plain sad. It’s wrong. In friendship, in business or no business. Wrong. Period. End of this discussion.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
This path is not falling in love. It is finding a good enough candidate and forcing it to happen. It is having expectations – already planning out what you will and will not tell the other person. There is no other reason to be there, other than to hopefully cash out a winner.
I cannot take this path because it goes against everything I am. Jumping into a frigid body of water, and flailing around is not my style. Beyond taking risks, I never show my true colors until I know the water is warm. I never jump in, and not for fear of drowning, but it takes time for me to be drawn out, or drawn in. One never knows my true colors upon initial meeting, not after a few drinks, not after warnings about wrong impressions. You absolutely cannot rush me; I take my time.
Putting a profile on a website declaring who I am and what I want is everything I am not. I might wear shirts that bark snarky comments, but despite you perhaps knowing my shoe size and my affinity for sarcasm, you really still know nothing about me. It takes time; months even, to see me. To know me. Who I really am as the wolf inside the sheep. No profile that only allows me only 2000 words is going to properly convey who I am. To anyone.
It is not common knowledge that I like to smack people in the face when things get heated. But I dare not to do anything over things childish. No one knows that a gnashing of teeth on my earlobe sends me into a tailspin or that I like it when it hurts. When people discover such things they often follow up with a shocked, “Why are you single?” Because I don’t advertise, or broadcast what turns me on. And when I display kindness, thoughtfulness, or love they wonder even further how I escaped being snapped up.
I do not wear my heart on my sleeve or my story on my surface. I traveled the path of least resistance because I wanted to put an end to the endless barrage of questions. I wanted someone to love, without having to consider if my love was wanted or reciprocated. I do not want to be standing alone in a sea of couples during the holidays, during Valentine’s day, because then, then everything that is wrong with your life is glaring, too apparent, and hard to swallow. When all you see is the perfect in others, the flaw in you is too obvious. I do not want to have someone to make somebody else comfortable. I do not want to have to have someone to fit in.
It is not a compliment when people ask why you are single, and then list all the reasons you should not be. Being single when you do not want to be is hard enough, but then to deal with sideways glances, build-ups that lead to let downs is too much to bear. Being made to feel inadequate because you need someone to be someone is pathetic. I am an entire person by myself.
Love is not going to come to me over a broadband connection. It is almost as unlikely as being a Bachelor. I do not know much about where my life is headed; I have ideas, dreams, and goals, but there is one thing I know is true.
I will only find love when it is already a part of my life.