Thursday, September 23, 2010


I'm sick. Just found out I have kidney stones.

It sucks being unhealthy. I hate it.

And it's really expensive to get sick these days. Stupid clinic doesn't accept medicard. Plus meds. Ugh, I'm bankrupt.

A blog friend recently asked me which of my two blogs is my main blog.

I don't think I have one. Both blogs have different purposes. The other one's almost five years old, and this one's where I can talk about myself more openly without the fear of being misunderstood.

While my sexuality isn't a secret anymore on both blogs, I still don't think the two blogs aren't redundant.

I saw the first episode of Glee yesterday and man did it give me so much goosebumps. The episode itself wasn't really that awesome. But Charice was excellent. I love her Telephone battle with Rachel and Listen.

Makes one really proud of being Filipino.

Too bad she's not going to be a member of New Directions. I hate Rachel.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010


"Why do you love me?" he asked, pushing me a bit further when I attempted to kiss him.

It made me think. We've only really known each other for two weeks. "Hmmmm. Because you're nice. You're funny. You make me smile everyday. And look at you, you're gorgeous."

He hugged me.

"Let's do this," he said. He started kissing me in the neck. My arms. My cheeks.

I like the way he smelled. Like the scent cigarette smoke lingered on his body. I kissed back. His neck. His chest. His torso. His armpits. His body was poetry made flesh. My fingers played with every curve brought about by his muscles. I licked his neck. My fetish. He giggled. I must remember to shave my beard the next time.

"You like that?" I asked.

He moaned. He pushed my shoulders down.

I obliged.

It was the night I've ever had. What we had was great. What we had was real. What we had was beautiful. It was magic.

It was not just sex. It was love-making. Passion and heat making music.

I knew then we were in love.

We held hands when we slept. I was secure sleeping inside his hugs.

This was the most unforgettable night I've ever had.

If only I knew, I'd ask for this evening to never end. For this feeling to last forever. For time to stand still.

Because after that night, I never heard from him again.

This is fiction. Was thinking of actually posting this on pex, but I wanted to post this here first. Haven't really written an english fiction in a loooooong time.

Hope you like it.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


Funny how sometimes you see how couples are such a mismatch, yet they are still able to keep a lasting relationship.

When you look at me and the kid, I’m pretty sure you’d think the same way. This couple’s a real mismatch. I’m 28, he’s 19. I’m a simpleton, while he’s a bit classy (coniotic). He’s really smart, while I’m just smart. I’m kind of big, while he’s kind of small. I don’t even want to take a photo of the two of us together because I look like his uncle.

But we’re still together. Four months in the relationship this month, and one year of being friends the next. After all we’ve been through, who would’ve thought? But we still made it work. We are making it work.

We sometimes talk about why we work out. Why in spite of our differences we get along really well. Here are some of them:

  • We talk. We talk a lot. We talk twice or three times everyday. We talk about everything. We don’t keep things to each other. I let him know that someone once flirted with me in the bus. He tells me whenever I say something stupid. I tell him when he’s wrong. We argue, we bicker and we fight, but we always talk.
  • Speaking of fighting, not that we always do, but when we argue, we make sure that it get fixed the same day or at least the next. We never had an issue that lasted longer than one day. The kid has some anger management issues, and I often just leave him alone when he’s not in the mood. I don’t provoke because the tendency is we’ll just say something that will hurt the other. But at the end of it all, we talk about the problem and we compromise.
  • We don’t see each other often. Because of our schedules, mine with work and him with his school, we rarely get to meet. That’s also the reason why we don’t get tired of each other. Absence does make the heart go fonder. It’s because of that, that every meet-up we have becomes something really special.
  • I guess most importantly, we just love each other. And we let each other know that everyday.

I make him a better man, just as much as he more than completes me.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010


I was chatting the other day with Kane about being the third party in a relationship. I was then asked if I ever was one, the other man. I said no.

That night, I was still bothered by that answer. I don’t know why, I was sure during that time I was telling the truth. I’ve never been the other man.

And then it hit me. I did. I was. I’ve been the other man. I’ve been a male mistress. I entered into a relationship before knowing that I am not the only guy in someone’s life. It was with the good time guy.

Third party isn’t even accurate. I was the fourth party. The guy hag a girlfriend and a boyfriend at the same time he had me. But that time, I knew I had the upper hand because we were working together. We see each other all the time, and the sex was great.

The relationship did not last long. I had to let go of the awesome sexy time, because apart from that, the two of us had nothing. We have nothing in common. Every time we try to start a conversation, talk about each other, we always ended up fighting. Plus add the fact that back then, I wasn’t ready to tell the world who I was, and that was his problem. He wanted us to hang out in public places where my subordinates then would easily see us. I can’t do that. He was sweet and all, but once 5pm comes, he cuts all communications with me to be with his number one or number two (I don’t care to remember anymore).

It was a crazy one month, what we had. But I don’t think I’d ever do that again, being the third party. Even if let’s say they tell me they’re in an open relationship. I wouldn’t want to hurt someone intentionally (and myself if that person decides not to choose me in the end).

And then there’s karma.

I hear she’s a bitch.

Friday, September 3, 2010


We were on our way home from our man-date in Tagaytay when we arrived on an intersection.

The light was red. We stopped.

It was an awkward moment. The first time we went out after the big friendship fallout. Save for the music playing on the radio, we just kept silent. Everything that need be said, was said. Except for that one thing.

“How did you feel when I told you I love you?” I asked.

Joy laughed. This was the first time we talked about it, since we became friends again. I thought the topic was taboo, as there was too much drama that happened after the huge revelation.

"Honestly bro, I felt betrayed. During that time, ang bigat ng loob ko diba, with the whole break-up thing, and ikaw yung isa sa mga nagbibigay lakas sakin nun. And then you had to do that."

He was already moving on when that incident happened. He was going out on dates again. I thought that I was losing him. And one drunken evening I made the mistake of texting him how I felt.

But he didn't have to know that. It's all over. Behind us. What we're doing, why we went out is rebuilding the friendship. It's been two years since we last saw each other, there's no need for drama.

"I'm sorry," I ended.

He smiled. Punched me in the arm and stepped on the gas. "Don't worry about it."

Suddenly, it's not awkward anymore.

There are two guys that I write alot about here in my blog. One's of course "my kid." And the other one is Joy.

To those who are new here, Joy was the one who got away. The love that was not meant to be (well he's straight, that's why). The friend I almost lost. One of my best friends.

He celebrated his birthday yesterday, so here I am posting my tribute to him.

Belated Happy Birthday my friend!!!