An Artist's Orgasm

on Gymnopédie No.2

2012-01-23T17:30:00.000+10:00

I haven't written anything for a good month, and as much as I've wanted to tell y'all that I finally got everything sorted out for my holidays, I've started to feel depression seeping in again two months ago. Along with this, I've been extremely lazy with work, and at home. I guess the whole package always has to come in pack of three.

What annoys me with this is that it seems to feel heavier and heavier every time I get my flashbacks. The world just feels heavier, and heavier. I've realized that this depression I've been having has been ongoing for more than a year now. I haven't gotten over it, it was just repressed along with everything once I moved out from my parent's house because there was just too many things happening. I think I need to go back seeing a shrink again. fuck.

Me and aaron haven't been go to well neither. I think we're gonna break up.

I don't know. What are you supposed to do when you're in this deep. I have lost interest with any of the people that I used to hang out with.

What am I doing to myself? Fuck it, I'll make myself a cup of coffee.

on our typical bs

2011-12-31T12:51:00.001+10:00

im torn between going out or just staying at home tonight. i was supposed to go to the gym tonight. then i realized that that would just be sad considering i'd probably finish working out at eleven, having to walk pass at least a mile of people getting drunk, watching the fireworks, and hanging out-i'll be that weird asian guy walking around the city who just finished working out on new year's eve. seriously though, who does that?

does it really do anything for your new year if you did spend your new year's eve with a big bang. last year's new year's eve for me was big, but the year to follow after that was complete shit, with the small exception of meeting Aaron this year.

and now that it's new year's eve again, it got me thinking what i've gone through this whole year, the things i've done, the biggest changes I've done for myself, when was the slowest during this year, and when were the quickest.

it felt like this year was that light in the end of the tunnel after going through depression last year. alongside this came that moment where i had to defend for myself, to not put up with shit- big or small.

what are my plans this year, what are my back-up plans, what i hope for, my fears, the things i need to change, the things i need to do better at. should i move back with mum to fix a few things with myself, what kind of work should i do next to fast-forward my move to melbourne, the things i could do to put myself on track, the things i could do to push myself out of my comfort zone.

i've been so good at protecting myself this whole year that i think next year would have to be to that year where i have to hurt myself, make mistakes, learn more things.

even though im happy at how things are right now, laid-back, safe. next year and every year after that should be dealt with the hunger to push yourself over cliffs, to be that fool that didn't care what would happen after but by just living the moment, the fall.

jumping for more, yet secure and grounded. that's it.

i guess i'm staying at home tonight. to meditate. play Skyrim. to feel the universe and to get myself ready for the countless jumps the next year and the more years to come after. Happy new year everyone!

on refunds

2011-12-05T00:15:00.000+10:00

i never got the chance to learn how to ride a bike during my pre-teens. less than a year from now, i'll be turning twenty and i still don't know how to ride one. not that i'm stressed by this fact. though i do know that they do might come in handy one day (zombie apocalypse), i've come to this point where I just really wanna get this done and over with.

see, i had the chance to learn how to ride one when i was younger. i was five and we lived in a very small village up north back in the Philippines. a few months into it, while i still had my trainer wheels, we moved next to the highway, and a bit more closer to the city than we used to 'cause it was then that i had to move to another school too. i know, complicated shit.

so yea, basically, once we got all settled in into our new place, they didn't want me to use our bicycles anymore 'cause we lived next to the highway. seems legit to me, and i didn't think riding a bike would be something that i'd stress about later on, but guess where we are now fucker?

a few weeks ago, at work, a guy from one of the local bike shops in the city came by and bought a few beers, knowing that he works at the bike shop, i jokingly asked him if he could teach me how to ride a bike. he said yes to my surprise. i told him later that day when he came back again for another slab that i'll turn up to his shop on my day off so he can finally teach me how to ride one- and no, there's no *bam chiki wam wam* (retro porn music)

saturday finally came and i was there at his shop. he was busy entertaining somebody else but he said hi and told me to just talk to one of the guys behind the counter. so i did. i walked up to them, looked one of them in the eye and asked them if any of them could teach me how to ride a bike. i knew there then that most of them probably wasn't as interested because one, i'm a dude, and two, i already have hair growing in between my legs.

one of them did came up to me though and showed me their entry-level bikes. it's $350, he said. already half-priced. it looked great, it had a navy blue frame, and its gears were just far more complicated than the mono-gear that i used to have fourteen years ago.

riding a bike's easy, he said. you just put the ball of your feet on the pedal and start pedaling. NO SHIT, i said to myself. i was a bit disappointed. No fucking way have I had the idea that doing that would 'cause the bike to go in motion. He was right though. I guess a part of me was just looking for something more than that. I wanted to have a go at it, I wanted to have somebody be there for me for support while i helplessly fall onto the ground whilst laughing at myself. I know, can you imagine?

i missed that whole episode in my life and there i was, at an underground bike shop talking to this lanky american guy who looks like he's gonna break once he's on a bike going downhill. that was it for me, might as well pack it in, game over. i knew that the centrifugal force in the wheel will help me balance myself out. really, it's that easy. i just need the balls to go at it and not care what other people think. that's it.

luckily, one of my friends told me he could teach me how to ride one in their garage the next coming weeks. hopefully, this one actually works out.

next on the list: swimming. I know, fuck my life.

on getting what i need

2011-11-14T03:07:00.000+10:00

So I think I've finally gotten over the artist's block. I've started taking photos again by walking from here to work-which is great, but not exactly the best thing to get myself into right now considering it's almost Summer...

the presence of extreme humidity, the topless sweaty jocks running around the parks (which I do plan to be one someday, really), and the possibility of getting skin cancer just sounded too great not to say yes to. Walking to work gave me a new perspective to my city. I've rediscovered parks, ponds, and huge-ass mother-fucking water-dragons basking on foot-paths because they can, and they know for a fact that nobody would ever dare try and fuck with them.

i know, scary shit.

this whole post was supposed to be a book review, though in retrospect, I do remember failing at almost every review I made on this blog like movies, plays, and people's blogs (just ask Gibbs with my Virgin Labfest review), but yes, because I'm extremely stubborn, I think I'll just go along with talking to you about Michael Freeman.

If you're into photography, and if you wanna get a lot more serious about it, I'd recommend getting any of Michael Freeman's books. He's wisdom, and love of the medium just transcends from the book to its reader. Each page is just so full of art theories, and different design concepts that it could just easily fill you up without even getting pass a few pages. A part of me wished that I didn't bought the whole set- not because it set me back $120- but because I just feel like I've got too much on my hands right now. And knowing myself too well, I know that I would probably jump from one book to the other once I get bored about a certain topic; i.e. panorama shots, and HDR photography

But yes, do give it a go. Or have a quick peek if you ever come across it at your local bookstore. I don't know how much it would cost there considering everything here is overpriced, and I wouldn't be surprised if this book would just cost $20 outside Australia.

Now all I hope is that I could apply most of what he taught me tomorrow once I start taking photos again. 'till then, I'll see you later.

stunt

2011-11-04T03:14:00.001+10:00

I've come to a point in my work where I think I've stopped from growing. In art, there is always a room for improvement. Like writing, and everything else that has to do with your genius, we get to points where we stop. I don't think you can ever be your best. You either just stop and die or continue growing.

My process of trying to grow has become daunting. Scary because I don't know how one exactly moves from point A to B in the art world. Though I know that I've gone through this before, I just can't remember how I got myself through it.

Am I going through this because I'm uninspired? Why? or am I faced by the equivalent of a writer's block? I guess I'm not the only one going through this as an artist. One of the scariest example of this is when one hits his big break. You get overwhelmed with everything else around you that you get scared if you're ever gonna get over what you've just done and do something better. (Don't worry 'cause we both know I haven't been there yet)

Do you just have to go along with everything and wait for the best? That out of nowhere your genius will just come back to help you out with your work...

I don't know. Sorry. I've been too busy trying to sort a lot of things out lately. I'll talk more often-I can't believe its been a month already!

For now all I gotta do is wait.

on getting our sexy back

2011-10-06T03:41:00.001+10:00

We've been pigs. Well, I've been one for the last six months. I haven't been working out, I haven't been eating right - with most days only eating once. Breakfast would only be a glass of water, lunch wouldn't be 'till about four in the afternoon where I eat either some cheap Chinese a block away from work or a half-foot Subway sandwich and dinner would be, if I'm lucky, a steak or tacos made by Aaron, and if not, a glass of wine.

I've lost ten kilos, i look older than I used to, and the Asians I serve at work think I'm mid-20s. I had to change myself at some point; a makeover, something that would make me feel more confident about myself- and so today I did. Aaron never really helped me with this, he'd still tell me I'm beautiful even though I feel and look like a total shit on most days that I'm off to work. He's lovely like that, I love him.

A couple of months back, a personal trainer had this booth two blocks away from work offering a free membership to his would-be gym two floors up my hairdresser's. It was close to work, it was open 24/7 and it was $20.45 a fortnight (every two weeks). It was cheap, convenient, and surprisingly above average. Obviously, that's where I'm starting the makeover, and like everything else that is new, it was hard getting myself to my old routine. Working-out half an hour every other day, being able to stick with a diet, gaining weight, and having the money to buy whey products and protein shit.

Hopefully, I can get myself to stick with this, and if things do work out, and if, I get myself to carrying more weights than I'm supposed to, I'll bring sexy back, and hopefully even sexier than Justin Timberlake.

Aaron looking for our room at Jupiter's Casino, Gold Coast, Queensland

On a lighter, better note, me and Aaron has just booked all our flights and accommodation for next year!

I can't wait to see some of y'all soon.

on cheating and breaking rules

2011-09-16T21:25:00.003+10:00

So they're dead.

Yes I was right, and no, I'm not going to buy a new set.

I did everything in the book. I moved them next to the windowsill, talked to them, watered them one day after the other, and took off a couple...or more leaves so they wouldn't look too heavy. I'm pretty sure the latter wasn't exactly in the book, but it felt right - like renting a whole season of Sex and the City while drinking a six-pack of Italian beer on a weekend.

Despite treating them the way dreams would've be taken care of, I have failed. Failed probably for having the wrong formula-that there's more to it than water, sunlight, love and a bit of pruning. I didn't know if the amount of water I've put in them was enough nor did I know if the pots were too small for them, I guess that's how it is with dreams, the person with the dream has to grow with it, otherwise the person would just end up killing itself from suffocation, or in this case, lack of space. It was never like that with these babies.

Firstly, I never really wanted them to grow out of their petite fair-trade pots. They were cute, chic, and something you'd subtly show-off whenever your friends come over for dinner dates or a bottle of wine. I've always been a subtle show-off.

But they're gone now and no plant food from your local flower shop can ever bring them back.

Sad;no, disappointed;yes.

In all honesty, I knew right there then when I started doing this that they will all die. Maybe a couple of months, four? or even half a year. But not this soon. I thought they'd die from negligence 'cause that felt more likely than what I've been doing. Apparently not. Maybe it was that subconcious thought of mine that led them to dying. Maybe I'm a mutant, or maybe I'm just too neurotic.

So I've thought of a solution. Well not really. More like a diversion. Rather than looking after herbs, I'd start having flowers around the house. I know they're a lot more expensive and a lot more time-consuming compared to my babies, but they're pretty. And in my rule book, anything pretty is worth my time.

Pros to this is that they'll make our place look pretty, add a bit of punch to our autumn-themed flat, make us seem posh even though were glorified pigs living in a two-bedroom apartment. Cons to this is that they'll cost me an average of fifteen to twenty dollars a pop - depending on what lilies I get. ('cause they're always the one that lives the longest, and if I actually take the time to change their water every two days.)

Oh! and did I say I have to replace them every week?

If you think about it, this whole idea of having lilies in a vase than herbs in a pot seemed more in tune with the idea of having dreams. You have to look after it, wait it for it to bloom and then do the best you can to make them last long. If they do die sooner than you thought, just buy a new set! You just always have to re-ignite yourself. You're not always at your top nor would you always be doing bottom *giggles*

I know, way to break that insightful shit-bag of a metaphor. . I need a drink.

and yes, I will be sticking to this from now on. Until of course I find a better solution or metaphor.

on happiness and letting go

2011-09-10T01:24:00.002+10:00

Mum has taught me a few things about life.

Most of it consists of maintaining relationships, learning lessons and controlling your emotions. I've come to learn over time when things aren't exactly panning out the way I want them to be, Mum's always there for the rescue, she is my hero.

Despite not getting along under one roof, we do love each other. I guess we just have too many things alike; the way we are with people, the way we react to situations, and how we speak, listen and do our art.

When it came to me and Aaron, she has become our middle-man. "When you guys are having a fight, don't let your emotions control you. Stop, and have one of you go out and let off that steam for a while. Nothing is solved when you're angry, and you're only bound to make matters worst."

She taught me all about dating as well. "Don't let go too soon. Keep some things intact, if you don't, you wouldn't look interesting anymore. You'd be like an open book. I have noticed that you seem to let loose too soon, don't, you're only destroying what could be potentially be the man that you'll always be with for the rest of your life." Long story, short, she basically called me a slut.

"If you're not happy, let go. Life's an adventure, and there's so many people out there. It's not the end of the world, it never is, it never will."

Though even though I've never had a problem with her not teaching me a few more tricks in life, I've learned the best lesson from her, to always learn things your way.

"I would never teach you anything from what I've learnt. If I did, you wouldn't be as strong as I am now. We all have our own ways of learning from our mistakes and I want you to do your own. You learn quicker and better that way and you might even learn a lot more from what I have. I'll only help you when you need it and don't ever forget that I'll always be here to listen to you when you need an ear to talk to."

There'll only be one woman in my life.

on crossing streets

2011-09-04T03:07:00.001+10:00

I've always been late.

Not that I'm tardy nor would I call myself a complete slack, it just seems that every time I try to make it on time, out of the blue comes either a bus accident that will put me back for at least ten minutes, five minutes away from work, or getting the red light the same time I get to be ten metres away from crossing. I know, the world hates me.

Along the lines of saying sorry for being late to my over-bearing egotistical cunt-face of a boss, I have also given up putting reason to every single time I get late. I even tried trying to bypass three blocks' worth of weekday foot-traffic just so I could be on time. Trust me, it never works.There's always either these middle-aged couple who thinks they could walk as slow as 5-fucking-metres an hour or the usual Japanese/Korean tourists who thinks they could just stop in the middle of a foot-path so they can admire at a piece of rock along with prams, busy business-men and me. Yes, working in the big city IS a lot of fun.

This all boils down to immaturity in the end- the lack of discipline; getting things sorted out and leaving at least half an hour before work and not spending an extra five minutes to watch Pink get soaking wet whilst being tied to a piece of silk/satin rope on her Grammy performance.

It's 3:04 in the morning now and I need to wake up in four hours. Guess I do need to go to sleep now if I do want this to stop. Wish me luck, thank god I have Aaron to wake me up when he get's home from work.

on unkempt bedsheets and relationships

2011-09-01T18:44:00.000+10:00

I'm very anal.

Most of the time you'd find me cleaning up the house. Half that time I'm either spraying disinfectant, polishing wood (no pun intended), or getting rid of rubbish. I wasn't exactly like this back then. A year ago, I couldn't even be bothered fixing my own bed nor would you see me cleaning up my bathroom, kitchen, or even putting the effort on learning how to cook. I've changed a lot since then. Believe it or not, I even learned how to use the oven, use a glass cleaner, and apply for a credit card. Yep, all in one year and in that one year I've made the worst decision in my life.

Looking back, I did grow when I moved out of my home. Not long after that, I met Aaron and after a couple of months of dating and because his lesbian room-mate decided to live in with her girlfriend, he invited me to finally live-in with him. Yep, situation de facto, baby.

And as much as I would like to say that its all 'happily ever after' after that, it wasn't all too sweet. Most of the time it was great. We drove down interstate to New South Wales to meet his parents and friends three months ago, and a month after that I introduced him to me mum, and in between those days we were being your typical hetero-couple; renting movies, eating leftover pizza, and fighting over who gets to wash the dishes the night.

Two nights ago, things almost fell apart between us. It was my fault- it usually is anyway. Am I not enough for you? 'cause that's how it felt like when I found out, he said. It struck me, it struck me so hard that I ended up crying next to him for a good half an hour. You are, you are more than enough for me. I just never looked at it that way.

Seriously though, why are we even together?, he said back. 'cause we love each other, that's why. We both know we don't get along on most things, we're two very different people. While I'm not really in-tune with his friends, he isn't with mine neither. He likes Pop and I like eclectic tunes and mostly Indie. We're different, very different, and that's what we've learned from each other for the past seven months.

I even started listening to Adele now just so we could listen to the same music, he said. I miss having music around the house. Ever since we've been together - I haven't been able to listen to music and have fun. You're not much fun aren't you? He was right, and I wasn't able to tell him much but sorry.

Thinking about it, with everything so fucked up and messy in my life, subconsciously, I've let myself try and fix what was around me, the anal bit came along which annoyed him on most days along with the fact that the plans I've made for myself wasn't pulling through; that the only thing that I wanted to do with my life wasn't happening. I've let go of everything around me, my friends, my family, and him - the sole reason that keeps me sane while I get everything else sorted out.

The idea of losing him made me think of what was going wrong these past seven months. My job has been monotonous, I am in debt, and my plans of being able to get to university and study wasn't happening because of money. Mother-fucking money. I've been too serious with myself, I wasn't fun, I was starting to bore the love of my life.

It felt like I was already in my grave when we were having that conversation. I've come to realize that being with somebody is an effort. Love, is an effort. It's nowhere near the promise most movies and most bed-time stories tell us each night. But for some odd reason that night, even though it felt like it was going to be the end of us, the couple who seemed to argue on most things just because we like to argue, has managed to patch things together. How? I don't know - it just did.

I've come to love him for many unconventional reasons; that we don't get along, nor can i read him, nor does he give me whatever I want. We've come to learn how to live comfortably together, to have at least one of us go away when emotions are too high, and to love one another because we just do.

Guess this time they're wrong, just because we don't like the same bizarro crap, doesn't mean we can't come to terms with ourselves and learn how to respect each other and still manage to be happy.. Me thinks that's what love is all about, to respect, to be able to heal, and the most important thing in the world, being and staying happy.

We still have a lot to learn from each other, and hopefully, time wouldn't be too rough on us.

----------------

on a lighter note, to herb lovers and nature-loving people alike, my herbs are still alive, and yes, I've moved them next to the windowsill now.

p.s. we're turning 8 months tomorrow :)

on planting seeds and catching dreams

2011-08-29T01:23:00.005+10:00

So mum brought in these herbs this morning; a pot of rosemary, parsley, and basil. Not that we're big fans of pasta nor do we use these herbs that often, it's just that just recently, I've decided that I wanna get myself into planting and growing herbs.

In retrospect, I've bought over thirteen pots of these for the past six months and yes, all of them died - either due to negligence, or lack of the so called "green thumb." I guess I was just never really good at this. I was good at planting seeds 'cause all you need to do was dig and put a couple of seeds in. Now I want myself to learn more and kind of tend my understanding of patience to a whole new level. I know, deep shit.

If you think about it, planting seeds is like having a dream. You have to give it the right amount of sun, water and love and along the months, years or even decades, you have to look at it and give it what it needs for it to grow. In return, it may give you food, a five dollar savings from your weekly grocery list, or make your house look even better.

These three plant will put me to a whole new test along with my plans of visiting the Philippines next year, to moving to Melbourne, to applying for uni, and getting my life sorted.

Hopefully, eventually I'll update you more if these guys here are going to get through life a lot more likely now that I've decided to focus a bit of my attention on them.

pre-nineteen thoughts

2011-07-28T00:10:00.002+10:00

So I'm finally hitting my post-teen years. Aside from this, I've been thinking a lot about me and Aaron's future and what I need to plan for for the next six months. Learning a lot from last year after suffering from depression after high-school has taught me a lot about life and about staying happy.

Here's a few things I've learned:

1. Always make plans for the near future, that way gratification is a lot more easier to grasp and changing tracks along the way wouldn't affect you as much. The lesser time you have to get something done, the more time you'll have to just focus on one thing and the easier it is for you on achieving it.

my example for this scenario would be our Asian Adventure next year; where we have eight months to save up for all we need on our one-month long holiday.

2. Grab on to your dreams, they'll help you soar. I want to be a professional photographer someday. That's about it. I just want to take photos everyday, every year for the rest of my life. I feel like it's just something that I'll never get sick of. I know that I'm still far from what I want, but I know I'll get there.

3. Always stay positive. Being optimistic helps a lot, being delusional is just suicidal.

4. Try and get yourself out of your comfort zone. They're right, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. Working for charity as my first job out of school has taught me to be confident, especially when it comes to speaking to strangers.

5. Wait. Just wait, things always has its way of sorting itself out.

6. Listen, 'cause the best lessons in life comes from strangers reading the Sunday newspaper just outside your local grocery store.

7. It's okay to ask for help. There are just those moments where you just have to let go of your ego. No man is an island, if you're in deep shit, holler, you'd be surprised with who will actually lend their hand or ear when you need one.

Going back to plans, it does suck big-time when things don't exactly work out the way you want them to be, but it's life, and just like what my current manager tells me all the time, sometimes, we just need to take our fingers out of our own ass. Just things an older fag tells to a young one I suppose.

Sulking only makes the battle worse, but a good bottle of merlot or tempranillo does help, no matter what your GP may have said.

A few things do scare me about the future; Me and Aaron moving to Melbourne, my college application, the expenses of living somewhere and with only one of us having a full-time job. I know we'll get through it, I'm just not too sure yet if we're strong enough to handle it. I'm quite confident with Aaron, I know he's a strong man and that we'll help each other to get through this together.

My college application should just be right by the time me and mum applies for our citizenship next year, hopefully the government will be helping me already by then. I guess that's what the future is all about, about hope and about holding on to it.

I know that I still have a week or two 'till I turn nineteen, but I thought, might as well start now while I still have the time.

To the future, to our dreams.

2:40

2011-07-27T02:40:00.005+10:00

you'll get used to it. well, you better get used to it pretty soon or you'll always just end up tired in the morning.

i know. im just really not used to not having you around. especially on grave shifts, it's shit. we always end up tired and cranky at some point during the day.

if i get the promotion, i wont be starting too late on some days anymore.

what's the latest?

twenty-one hundred?

and what time will you finish?

five?

it's only a couple of hours less than what you get now

but at least i won't get to see the sun on my way home anymore, i'd sleep more peacefully.

I wish I wasn't too dependent on you. Not that I am fully depende

nt, it's just that falling asleep by myself has been something that I constantly find difficult, particularly when you're on your graves. It's now three in the morning, three more hours until I get to have you next to me again.

Dinner was great, thank you. Never thought you could pull off making pizza out of that gift your sister gave you on your birthday.

I love you.

I guess I'll just have to wait 'till you come home soon, or not. Two vitamin c tablets should help me through this tomorrow.

2010 in photos

2011-07-22T03:47:00.012+10:00

On laughter, boys, and everything in between.

Taya

2011-07-20T03:00:00.005+10:00

I've been wanting to write about a few things a few nights ago; one of it was supposed to be about a recent job offer, another was about me and Aaron's never-ending dispute about alcohol, and lastly, about selling your soul as soon as you sign your contract on your first full-time employment.

So we've been busy as usual. Work's been eating most of our social time, so on most days, we're either just in our living room watching rented dvds, having sex all around the house, or doing budget cuts so we could have a bit of money once we get there next year.

We're excited, I'm excited.

On a more deeper note, as I said with one of my posts a few weeks back, I'm back to taking photos again. Finding inspiration isn't really that hard if you're full of frustration, it's just really hard for me to find the time to pick up my camera whenever I have the free time to.

A few things to look forward to this weekend is Aaron's family coming up here for the weekend for his post-birthday celebration, the sex expo happening just two blocks away from us-a bit excited to see what new toys I could get for us, and probably a few drinks from one or two of my co-workers on the weekend.

I know this whole post may just come of as this massive irrelevant disconnected blur, so to make things a bit more understandable, I'll let this photo of mine explain the rest of the story:

6

2011-07-07T02:26:00.001+10:00

So it's been six months since me and the boy started dating.

I guess the idea of me at eighteen being in a serious relationship, living-in together with somebody whilst having a full-time job in the city wasn't exactly what I have planned during my pre-teen.

Things just never always pan out the way you want them to be and I'm completely fine with that. Though I do hope things were a bit different like if me and Aaron were to live in Melbourne instead and if I were working while doing a bit of study at RMIT. Next year? Hopefully? We're all just bound to wait and hope.

If anyone were to ask me if anything I've learned from school actually helped me get to where I am? I'd say the first five years of school had to be the most useful; that includes, adding, counting, subtracting, organizing, cutting and being nice so you could make friends. It may be simple but in the end of the day, it's what that gets your ass earning money-that is of course if you are planning to be an assistant like me. Otherwise, listening to most of the remainder of your years schooling will proove itself quite helpful.

We've been planning to get our asses there early next year too so I hope I'd get to see my coffee babies again soon, meet more people from the blogosphere and have amazing kinky threesomes around the metro. Ching!

Happy, gayer, and hoping to post more that usual.

Break

2011-06-03T14:04:00.002+10:00

I never thought I'd actually need a break after half a year of working my ass of from charity to retail. Weekends were always the same-you get that day off where half the time you're just sleeping in your bed, and the rest of it with you dragging yourself out of bed. Sometimes at night I'd be getting a bottle of vodka, and if lucky enough, I'd have art films or funny DVDs-just so I can point out how deep and ridiculous I am trying to express my individualism.

So just recently me and Azz took me to New South wales to meet his folks. It was good. I had fun. It was a four-day weekend along with fourteen hours of driving, 15 tall-sized coffee and 5 bathroom breaks.

Along with those four days were three nights of non-stop beer binge and two Filipino meals; afritada with churizo, and adobo with mushroom.

He took me on top of this mountain half way through our weekend. It was hazy, freezing and enlightening. And as much as I want to say something inspiring, smart and deep, I'll stop mid-way through this to show you how it was on top of that rock.

On a side note, check out this hung mofo I found on grindr!

The fag's bag

2011-05-25T01:53:00.001+10:00

So if words were true and if bags do tell a lot about the person who owns it-I guess you'd say I'm boring. I don't have much really.

I have a

Bag. Pineland.Leather. Small. Lots of pockets. I like organizing my shit-something I think I adopted from my mum after living with her for nine months.

Red mini-moleskin notebook. Now this little baby here is where I keep all my receipts in in time for claiming my tax back by the end of the financial year. I also write my dreams and budget here just so I can keep track of everything.

Purple pen. I like my writing colourful. Frankly, I just want what I write to my workmates to always stand out whenever I leave notes at work. I like the attention.

Pink card. Credit card. I know, I know, how gay can I get? So yea, I'm that gay I guess. I never bring cash.

Brown card. Employee discount card. You get 5% discount as long as your purchase is above $5. Bunch of cheapskates if you ask me. Though I still do bring it even though on average I only get about $3-4 deducted from my groceries..

Blue card. Driver's license. Has my age on it. Even though I do know how to drive, I still don't know how to drive on the other side of the road nor can I be bothered to study at the moment. I only have it just so I could show my age 'cause it's the old card I have that says I'm over eighteen. Well, exactly eighteen.

Sienhammer (or something that sounds close to that) earphones. It's all about German architecture. Thats what my old German flatmate used to say. Despite the arrogance-the dickhead's right. Besides, If I'm gonna listen to music, might as well listen to it with the best earphones in the market.

Persol. Crystal grey sunglasses.

House keys with rubber t-shirts on.

Chocolate-flavoured Lip-gloss because it's winter again!..

My name tag.

The red leather thing there is a Nintendo DS XL case. Though I only use it on long road trips like going to my mum's place-it may come handy at some point. Cartridge: pokemon black.

Blackbird, fly. Film camera. So I've just recently got myself into film-which i find quite intimidating and frustrating. double-reflex camera. Black and white film.

It's 1:47am and I'm bored. Well that was a complete waste of time. Looking back, I'd say I'm lazy, minimal and into leather? You be the judge, I'm off to sleep.

Void

2011-05-15T21:17:00.004+10:00

So I've been doing it wrong this whole time. Not that I didn't like the part where I pretty much whined my way through mid-2009 to early this year. It's just that sometimes, we're never just bound to do that one thing that we've always planned on how and why we blog in the first place.

To those who knew me way back 2009, I'm assuming you all knew that the sole reason on why I made this blog was to track and talk about photography. I was still starting out back then, with my new point-and-shoot pseudo-DSLR Canon XS camera, naive nature that never seemed to change 'till now, and with a fresh perspective and style to how I blogged and commented on everybody's post. *bigbearhug*

A couple of months later after that, I started blogging for a different reason. Part of it was to gain a bit of popularity and the latter was to talk about sex, dicks, and everything in between cause everybody knows that a sure fire way to pump up your followers was to either look good-which I wasn't-and to talk about sex-and lots of it. Of course, there would still be those people with pure talent and charm with words that guarantees a good read without talking about sex or posting any photo that can lure any dick-brained homo.

I was a kid who hungered for make-believe-fame, wherever it was, even if it were just in this website that seemed so old and nothing like twitter nor tumblr. We're old-school, hardcore old-school.

In retrospect, I had no regrets. I made friends and lovers along the way, people who were actually real and mirrored who they were as writers. I became a part of a community, a small community that gossiped, fucked, and shared a few drinks.

A part of me opened this blog because I wanted to immortalize myself. You know, like Voldemort and why he kills unicorns-same purpose, different ways of doing it. I wanted to write down my inner most thoughts and dreams that I wouldn't normally share to people that I know in real life, things that I would be honest about without the fear of being judged nor looked down on. I felt free and it's the only place where we can all be free.

But then the whining-part of my blogging days kicked in, I've finally met teenage angst. It was bitchy , pms-like almost, childish and just plain selfish-I'm just so glad that I'm over it.

This led me to keeping quiet a few months after getting over it-a changed a few plans, made some big changes, and been busy with work while I plan my life ahead. Despite changing so much from who I was two years ago, my dreams are still intact. I'm happy with how things are right now; I'm living with my partner, I have a job that takes care of me and a future that's not too far away if I hard a bit more harder.

So going back to why I blog the first place, we change, and so does our blog, our blog mirrors who we are no matter how many faces and masks we put up.

To the first photo that I have on this blog

Tootoo circa 2009

To now, 2 years later.

To new beginnings and better pictures!

Looking up

2011-04-27T22:51:00.001+10:00

muted

2011-04-13T01:43:00.003+10:00

I couldn't say it to him. I couldn't, I just couldn't-I'm afraid to.

It started last night while we were both in bed together. He was sleeping in his usual spot, near the tv, and most of the time, close to falling off the bed. No, scratch that-he wasn't sleeping. We were both lying next to each other, my arms wrapping his cold body, my warmth would always either annoy him or make him feel worried.

"You're hot."

"I know, thanks," I'd smile back.

Rolls his eyes.

I guess it's just one of those moments where you feel like saying those words. You know, the words-the exact same words that could either make or break a whole relationship. Those three simple words that means a lot, is worth a lot and can do a lot.

A part of me felt like crying that night, he would turn his head to me as if he knew how much I felt while I was trying hard to fake that deep uncomprehending pain right down to my chest, like a two-ton truck fell on top of me-that's how it felt like-that's how it feels like once your heart knows that you're lying to yourself. And I thought, nothing could be worst than lyingto your own.

I'm too afraid to get hurt again. I'm too afraid to show that part of me that now needs him, that part of me that wants to tell him that I need him-that he is an essential part of me. A part, that's who he is for me, a part of a puzzle that even I can't solve for myself...yet.

I've learned during the past few years going in and out of quick relationships is that love isn't just that warm fuzzy feeling that you get whenever you're with that certain somebody. It's more to it than that, it's more enjoying yourself alongside him, and it's definitely more than having any sexual chemistry at all.

It's 2:51 AM here now and he's now having his shower.

though in retrospect, while he would look back and see how I was doing last night even though he knew I was just pretty much watching whatever he was watching, It felt like he knew it along, he would kiss me just for the heck of it-and I guess that's how you say how you love somebody. Well, If I'm wrong, do tell-'cause I wanna know how you define yours.

Actions do speak louder than words after all.

Mole

2011-04-02T22:57:00.003+10:00

So there's this guy who started texting me two nights ago. I didn't know where he got my number from nor do I know him, so I went along with the convo.

"Hey! Kumusta ka?"

"I'm doing great. Yourself? Where'd you get my number from? Do i know you?"

"Okay lang din. Care to send me a picture? Here's mine" *sends pic*

"Sorry. I'm not interested-I already have a boyfriend and its just not worth it."

and then all hell broke loose...

"Sorry, but Im not really that interested."

"I send you a pic! Its just a pic! thats so unfair!"

"Didnt you know? the world isn't exactly a fair world buddy."

"I dnt get u. Ur filipino but I dont get u.."

"Just because were both Filipino doesn't mean we think and move alike. Grow up man!"

He wasn't exactly your typical boy-next-door kind of guy. He had this massive mole that covered half of his face and his hair was rather dry and dull, just like his face. Apart from that, he's a self-hating, ignorant, arrogant, queen.

Now you're wondering why I'm reacting like that after all that, here's what he said:

[sic] U jst need ur bf bec u are a parasite. im glad i was born rich and no need to suck strange blood-sorry u upset. be wise enaf when u talk to someone wiser than u-u belong to a few rotten filipinos hu look dwn to fellow folks.i saw ur pic on fb na. ur not gud lookin. ur a very filipino. im glad dad is chinese. u are racist and i think ur qualified to that category or lets say identity.u are in a gay world and gays are born polygamous. [sic]

You're probably laughing your ass off right now or just fuming from how this guy is acting, I know I am. It's just people like him that makes this world so shallow and ridiculous. I guess its just really hard for me to understand how people (he's 21) can find things like globalization so hard to understand.

I told him in the end that there are things that are so much more important than race, money, and what you look like on the outside, but I guess this fucker here just won't bloody get his shit right. His mind-set is just plain ridiculous and he's just too ludicrous for anybody to try and make sense out of all yapping.

There just wasn't any more sense to it all. There was no point to replying back cause we all know that whatever that comes out of this guy's mouth wouldn't make sense. So I did what any smart man would do-shut up.

and then he texted again, "btw, i got your number from my friend. he's ur friend u fucked."

Blur

2011-04-01T02:43:00.000+10:00

I started to break down in front of him. It was hard to fight back the tears once it all starts falling-I felt weak, he finally saw me at my weakest.

I've always been afraid to show him this side of me. The weak part, that dependent part of me that hungered for strength, for comfort, and peace. It was just all too overbearing, like a two-ton flood jumping over Japan, I felt hopeless-and the rest of the water just helped itself out.

I never thought I'd cry though. "Are you okay?" he asked awhile back while we were both lying down on his couch. "Yeah, why?", "Nothing," he smiled. He knew me too well, he can sense even the smallest thing and know what my mood is even by just reading my texts.

"I just feel like a burden. You know, all this. I just thought everything will work out."

"It will," he stood up and then wrapping his arms around me.

"It will all work out...It will all work out," he repeated.

And in a flash, everything that have happened last year all came back again- the guidance counselor visits, the crying, the hopelessness, the depression. His hand was running up and down my back for a good ten-minutes until he stopped as I looked at him.

"Thanks babe," I smiled.

He smiled.

It has always been hard for me to deal with people when they're crying. I just feel like I'm not making any difference once they start breaking down. I thought those hugs and back-rubbing and brushing of the tears on the side of your face were all just for the sake of aesthetics, for drama.

But I was wrong. It does actually soothe your soul.

For now, let's just say I really am lucky.

hang in there

2011-03-14T10:10:00.003+10:00

I knew this would happen to me long before we started mixing our pre-drinks for the Big Gay Day. You see, here down-under, there are three major gay parties all over the country every year. There's the notorious Gay Mardi Gras that's always held in Sydney, and the two that comes after that after a week would be here, where I live, and Melbourne, where I wanted to move to.

I wanted to move to Melbourne for a lot of reasons; the fashion, the culture, the people. That's what I heard Melbourne is all about. It was all too weird how this all started out though-but I'll talk all about that in another post.

So yes, there I was at my friend's place with my partner drinking. The good thing about drinking with these guys is that you're always bound to have fun getting drunk. They're both bartenders, so I always get to have a taste of the best mixes and vodka shots in the house.

We spent two hours at his place drinking, and eight hours at the street party drinking..again.

I haven't had sleep and I have work in less than an hour. Pretty much I'm fucked.

So here I was at the party. It was blurry, crazy, hot and sweaty. People were grinding, which is quite usual with anywhere that has fags in it, and the drinks were cheap, so people are just bound to hook up before the night ends.

That's him using his Iphone, and thats our friend checking out the other guys making out around us.

Sure, it was the best night I've had in Brisbane ever since I moved here a year ago, but after all the blurry kisses and ass spanking and grinding and drunk dancing. I'd like to ask somebody to just stab me and throw me over the bridge now as I get ready for work where I sell alcohol..the irony of it all.

Grey

2011-02-13T11:36:00.001+10:00

He was crying on the phone this morning. An old friend of mine whom I've met when I used to do Fundraising for charities-his voice was cracking through the phone as I heard his heart shatter like a thin sheet of glass on the concrete floor..he was dying.

"What happened.."

"He cheated on me..."

"How'd you found out?"

"Through a friend..an old friend that he apparently slept with just a few days ago..he didn't know me and Blaec were going out."

"So..lemme get this straight. Are you and Blaec a couple yet?"

"We're just dating. It sucks, there seems to be that grey area when it comes to dating."

"True. There is...Me and Aaron never really talked about this. I guess I just trust him a lot and I know he wouldn't sleep with anybody while we're still going out-it would just make me upset if he did."

"By the way you tell me about him, he seems to be a really nice guy. You're lucky."

"I guess so. But we're going off-topic here. What are you going to do now? 'cause I honestly don't know how it is when it comes to situations like this-like you said-it is a grey area."

He continued to break-down over the phone. I felt useless, I didn't know what to do.

"Tell you what, go talk to him and tell him what you feel about this. Maybe he's just that kind of guy who rolls like this. You know, there is still that bit of freedom when you're still in this part of the whole process."

"Yeah, I'll do that...It just really fucks you up y'know. We've been doing bareback already and I'm not too happy about what he's doing with himself."

"How long have you guys been dating?"

"Six months..and hopefully, still counting."

"Sweetie, if you think he's worth it-hang in there. A good talk can go a long way. I think that's the reason why a lot of relationships have it's falling out-once shit goes down, people either just run away from it or totally ignore it."

"You're right. I'll go have a talk with him soon."

"and hey! It's V-day tomorrow. Should be fun for both of you."

"Nuh, he's not really a big fan of it."

"Oh. So does Aaron-he'd rather watch glee than have a romantic night out with me tomorrow. I don't really mind though-as long as he's there to spend some time with me-I'm happy."

"Well I hope he's the right kind of guy who won't play with your heart."

"I hope so too."

His voice was at ease now. Under my skin, I felt a lot better too. I just don't know how I'd react if what happened to him would happen to me.

Back pain Pt 3

2011-02-09T01:02:00.001+10:00

I haven't exactly told you how everything started with me and the boy. The boy, twenty-five years of age, hazel-eyed, and a hundred eighty seven centimetres tall lived 2.172 kilometres away from me.

I'd like to think that we met through fate. Yes, fate, that indescribable relevance of all events resulting to something of great significance. Some think it's coincidence, but my mind chooses to differ.

Eight weeks, yes, eight weeks have already passed since the first time me and the boy spoke. We were betting on buying each other a drink if he'd able to guess which country I'm from. He lost and I got a tequilla shot.

We haven't really talked talk. I found him on grindr. After that night of betting, we didn't talk anymore. We both thought that was the end of that, fate proved us wrong on the second day of January.

I became friends with this other guy a week after me and the boy had a chat. He was a bartender and he asked me if I could join his workmates for drinks before me and him both go out to our weekly fix-the gay clubs in the Valley. One of his workmates' cute, he was out of my league.

I got drunk ten minutes later. $7 jugs of vodka lemon lime intoxicated me, I found out my friend got kicked out the minute I left and went to the toilet. I was alone, and then I saw his workmate.

"Do you know whereabouts Chris went to?"

"No idea. He got kicked out..again."

Everybody knew that he gets way too drunk way often, something that clubs here doesn't really want.

I was running out the club to see if I could catch him. My friend was gone, he left me. No replies, no callbacks-I was left alone to conquer the valley.

"I'm drunk. I deserve to have fun," I said to myself.

I got a cab and went straight to the valley. I met some randoms on the way in, they became my bestfriends that night-I ended up ditching them after a few more glasses of vodka.

The scene was its usual self-skanky, sleazy, dirty. It sickens me to see my kind going about like this-I went outside for a smoke-then got back inside to get lost.

It was then out of curiosity that I dragged myself to the second floor near the ledge that over-looked the dancefloor. It was quiet, it was peaceful despite chaos. The cute boy who works with my mate was there, I was surprised.

"Hey! Remember me?"

"Yea, where did Chris go?"

"He ditched me."

"I'm not surprised."

He was texting in between our muffled convo, he had an iPhone.

"Hey, would you by any chance have Grinder on your phone?"

"Yea, why?"

"What's your profile like?"

and he showed it to me. I smiled, "small world," I whispered.

"Do you remember me? We chatted weeks ago. You lost a bet and I remember!" I showed him what my profile looked like.

"ha! I'm quite sure you're the the one who owes me a drink," he teased.

"fuck off. But you do remember right?"

"of course, where's my drink then?" he winked.

I studied his face while I sat across him, I then realized how gorgeous he was. Despite the one winning the bet, I decided to buy his pretty face a drink.

"what do you want?"

"Bourbon."

"okay. Wait here..."

I came back finding him watching over the dance-floor. I moved infront of him, gave him his drink and saw him skull it in a second. He was blushing.

His arms ended up caressing me as the slow beats of the stereo manipulated his body against me. He was wrapped around me, I turned around to give him a peck. A second later we ended up catching a cab to his place. Everything else after that was a blur. An exciting, sweaty, crazy blur.

We went out four days after-more like dined-in as I made him dinner. A month after, we went out to have our first dinner outside his flat.

"I reckon we spend way too much time here."

Italian ended up filling our palette.

A few minutes back I asked him to go out with me on Valentines, "if you're lucky," he smiled.

"You know I am," I winked.

pursuit

2011-02-06T17:45:00.002+10:00

I walked away from work. I know, stupid. I needed something to have my time wasted on, earn money, pay my bills, make me live. But two days ago, while getting my lunch ready as I packed my bag to work, I realized-I wasn't living up to what I told myself years ago.

If you're not happy, why compromise. I hope getting a job is easier than how it actually is. Thing is, I just need to put my foot in the door and I'm in! I'm very confident that the skills I've learned from sales would help me alot to getting what I want. Besides, its sales- it teaches you to sell yourself.

Hoping that what all my team leaders said to me were true, "you're charismastic, with the right words, you can make anybody say yes," and "I don't know how you do it but you're one of our best." I'd like to think that they were more than the ego boost, that they were actually mirrors of how I was. Charismatic, enthusiastic, gay. I think this all boils down to my faggotry.

I have long applied to where the guy I'm dating now is working. I don't know, I don't think working in the same company is a good idea. If I did ever get in, he'd be my boss, which makes thing far more worse than how it actually is already.

All I ever wanted was to work in a bookstore, nothing more, nothing less.

The Rush

2011-01-30T00:50:00.001+10:00

I can still remember everything quite clearly. A Sunday morning, a quiet room. White walls sorrounded me while panels made out of wood carried my weight. It was a book, a grey-coloured book. It has no pictures but lessons to share. Everybody has one, and to find yours you have to go through the book and find the page that has your birthday on it. Mine's August 8, I think it was on page two-hundred eighty six.

I don't know what virtue means. I honestly still don't know until now. But one things for sure while I skimmed through that book that quiet and humid Sunday morning- the word virtue is something important, no, good, no, I don't really know. Whatever it is, it's something, and it's something that I know that could mean important someday. Like a lesson, yes, a lesson.

If you want to know what the book said, it's something that you've probably learned or heard already. Four words, bold and coloured black-"Patience is a virtue."

Eight years after, it all came back to me, the book is right. Patience is something that we all had to learn. Patience taught me to slow down, to be modest, to plan ahead. I always loved the rush, the running wind that combs your hair, the jerking sessions on dirty sheets. Rushing means getting immediate gratification-it always did, but it never lasted.

I was trying to remember who gave me the book, or if I just found it while going through my step-father's Hustler magazines. A part of me tells me that my grade six teacher gave it to me on Christmas Day. She was a good one, slightly eccentric yet pretty. Just my type. Everybody knew she was pretty, I just dont know now.

The picture I have on top of this post is the look outside my flat. In the middle of the city, in between the busy streets and flooded river. Fourteen minutes from work, half an hour from the boy that gives me butterflies-that is, if I walk it.

It was strange that day, the intersections weren't busy. It was peaceful, pristine, it was a week after the horrible flood here in Queensland.

So yea, patience. I just wish you had the patience to go through all that with me.

The fear

2011-01-26T00:42:00.001+10:00

I fear of a lot of things. Death, the awkward silence , the meaningless efforts, being late to work, forgetting to pay rent, forgotten toilet seats.

The irony of a self-proclaimed optimist. Looking forward but cautious, no, afraid. Afraid and cautious. The fear of wanting something beyond grasp, like leaves on palm trees and your hand touching the ground. Flightless, bipedal.

I drag myself down when things are doing too good. It just feels too surreal, I've always had lighting to steal my thunder. I'm quite sure you wouldn't take it either. You're more likely to curse the gods than thank them when you're like me-paranoid, anxious, confused, dying.

I hide under sheets for security. Security blankets. Hoping for the rest to go along the best, you clasp both your hands together in desperate nights. You whisper in thin air for hope, talking to carbon, exhaling life.

I was happy when fate corrected me this time. The delayed replies, the single-word textbacks. It just feels insuffiecient or maybe I'm just needy, possessed, self-absorbed.

There's one thing I always look forward to seeing though, and it's this

Your smile. Your pearly whites that got me hooked in the first place.

And on anxious, needy, and lost nights like this, seeing this plastered on your face everytime I see you assured me of something- that I'm safe, that I have You.

My Aussiebum

2011-01-23T22:03:00.001+10:00

Our weekends usually consist of two simple things, cooking and sex.

Cooking happens in the evening. Always around nine, I'll have you get the ingredients ready and I usually do the cooking. Sesame oil, rice, beef, pork, orange juice, red wine. You'd have your hands around me while I cook, kiss my neck, taste my dish, you'd smile, I'd laugh.

We always eat outside, behind your living room where a plasma tv talks. We'd sit down. Look at each other, smile. I'd always have the first bite while looking at you, waiting for your first bite and anticipating your reaction-I would never know if you actually liked my dish or not-you'd still kiss me on my lips and thank me otherwise.

We'd clean up after. I'd wipe the bench and you'd put the dishes into the washer. You're tidy, were both tidy-no wonder we get along so well.

You'd sit down infront of your tv after, I follow suit by sitting down infront of you, on the floor, in between your legs, your hand would usually get itself tangled in my hair, I'd look back, you'd smile.

We waste our nights infront of the living room tv, on family guy, on rented films, we're content, we're happy.

Eventually, we'd drag each other in your room, lie next to each other, kiss. Were both usually active, sometimes I'm passive. Sometimes we both pass.

In dark and quiet nights your room would be the loudest, I'm always the loud one. You're always the cheeky one.

We do it all around your bedroom, sometimes your bathroom, sometimes on the floor when your flatmate's in the living room. The bed usually squeaks, they know we're doing it, it just seems better when they don't hear much coming from us. You'll be the one jerking like crazy in the end anyway, and then you'll hear me giggle, you'd laugh back. We're always too loud.

We'd sleep in the end, both apart and sometimes meeting at midnight. We'd wake up by eleven and then end up doing what we last did. Showers always happen after it though, there's not much to talk about after that. We'd go back to bed, I'd go back to sleep.

We'd wake up by seven in the evening in the tune of grinding and kissing, and then we eat, and then we sleep.

I'm happy, you're happy. Im Filo-bum and you'll always be my Aussiebum

Detour

2011-01-19T16:45:00.004+10:00

I stopped half-way through my ironing just to put this down on my blog.
You see, I've been thinking alot about my current dating status.
Well, I am seeing somebody right now and things are actually going pretty good.
Too good really, far from what I've expected to be honest.

I fail at dating. Yep, it's just that, I don't know, I'm either way too annoying and immature or maybe I'm just too fucking amazing that nobody that I've ever met yet can put up with it. I'd like to think that I'm right about the latter but you, assuming we dated, or even tried dating before should know upfront that I'm what they call "torpe." I suck at it, BIG time. I don't know if emphasizing the word big could even compensate to how much I fail at dating.

Don't you just hate it whenever you have this conversation with someone and he or she'd be like,"wow, I'm really surprised how you manage to be single all this time. I mean, you're an amazing guy. You shouldn't be single." Oh honey, if only I had a dollar every time I hear that line, I'd prolly have enough money to buy myself a 6-inch subway by now. The world is just one big irony that I tell ya.

So let's go back with this guy I'm dating. Things are doing great. Sex..is amazing-what else can I ask for--and in my own standards he's far beyond what I expect from this face,, even though I know for a fact that I dont really have high standards when it comes to fucking, and dating. I'm just really somebody who sees the real beauty in everybody. True story.

Okay, you might say that I'm just talking shit right now but I'm serious. Most pretty faces are up themselves and it's the average Joe that usually has the heart of gold anyway. I don't know about fugly people still managing to be up themselves, 'cause they could all just rot in a hole for all I care. So yea, I think people should be appreciated for who they are on the inside. In a world so shallow and dark, it's not that hard to feel like the only star to see through all the deceiving shadows. Yep, I patent that line there.

Anyway, so yea, back to dating this guy. Me and him have been going out for three weeks now. Yes girls, three weeks! I'm so fucking proud of myself! You should too. Most of my relationships start early and end up quickly. All I'm trying to say here is that I'm still having a hard time grasping this whole new concept called dating. I date, yea, and usually, after three of four dates, i get into a relationship, then all hell sets loose, which eventually leaves me fucked. Literally. Kind of both, really.

So far, for the past three weeks, most of it includes fucking, cooking at his place, fucking, buying Chinese, fucking, watching movies, fucking, cuddling and a whole lot of fucking. It's totally understandable though, I'm 18, he's 25. Were both just naturally pumped with hormones, resulting to continuous sweaty, crazy, amazing and tiring sex. The good thing about this though is that when were apart, we never or we rarely even talk about sex. In a way, were actually getting to know each other. What's been happening during the day, what's up with work, the weather, gossip, movie references, and a whole lot of sweet talk and the likes. And that's what I liked about it. Theres balance. There's an equilibrium in the relationship.

There's so much to a relationship than just sex though. And I've realize how slowly I'm turning into a woman because of him, especially when it comes to cooking and thinking if he's ever cheating on me. But he's a cancer, and I'd like to think that he sticks with what they say about Cancers.

Im just afraid sometimes cause I don't know if I should do anything to entertain him all of the time , and then I realized were pretty much the same. Potato couches, yep, that's us. I'm really happy though, happy that things are going okay, happy that things are going exactly nowhere near to how I planned it to be and happy that I have this man to wake up to in the morning and have amazing sex with every other day. That even though We don't know each other that much yet-three weeks, duh-that I've been so difficult and young in most days, that he still greets me Goodmorning.

I'd like to thank him though, cause even though I know how annoying I can get while I wrestle him on his bed, nag him all throughout the day, lie on top of him on endless hours just so I could play with his stubble, kiss him endlessly all throughout his body, that he still manages to reply back everyday, call me babe or Hun, picks me up from my place whenever I get locked out, picks me up and drops me back home from his place, and be the most charming, gorgeous, and sweetest man that I've ever met.

Thanks babe, you're amazing.

Fu

2011-01-11T20:50:00.002+10:00

I'd be lying if If u told you that I don't think about you. It's sad but I do. Most of the time, even at work, while cooking, doing my laundry, walking around the city, it has always been you and I just hate it. I hate feeling like this 'cause this has always been a sign, a sign that my system is finally getting used to you, that you're now a part of me, like nicotine, ethyl alcohol and green tea.

I wish I could just control myself whenever I'm around you. As much as I want to show you how totally independent and strong I am, I'm not. I've always felt like a sheep in wolf's clothing. I miss you though, in days like this where the river's water overflows and the whole Brisbane city is in grave danger of being underwater. My apartment just feels dead right now, left alone to be haunted by you.

I panic in your absence. I rot deep inside and magically come back from the ashes whenever I hear that "Ting!" sound on my iPhone. Your "XO"s somehow makes me feel that my efforts of having a taste of your love all worth it. It's just too hard for me to repress. Repression has always been a lion's weakness.

I'm glad that I haven't opened this doors to you yet. There will always be doors that I won't open for you .Doors that I'd rather keep for myself for now...

I'm afraid of letting you know what I feel. That doing so would only end up to me hurting myself, and us working awkwardly together in the same company. Why are relationships like this, like gambling, you bet your life and wish that luck's by your side. I just wish this time, this fucking time, luck's on my side.

This makes me wonder how it feels like to think about nobody again. There will always be somebody to think about it, somebody that would just constantly walk around the dirty cupboards that occupied your head. Somebody that would effortlessly get themselves deeply burrowed in your head, slowly eating you, slowly sucking the life out of you.

Its the 11th day of the 1st month of 2011. It's 11-1-11. It's 5 when you add them all together. 5, the number on your beige-colored door.
It's dark outside while the heavy rain and Loud thunderstorms eat bird's songs and car's horns.
Despite all this, I just hope you feel the same way too. Repressed, haunted and falling.

Back pain pt.2

2011-01-08T20:19:00.001+10:00

Four days and sixteen hours later, we decided to go out for dinner, well, I decided we cook at your place instead. Why? 'cause it's cheaper and we can go straight to bed after.

I took the day off that day. Work just felt heavy so I decided to go apply at the casino the same day.
"wait. What? You applied at the casino?" my bestfriend tried to clarify what I just said.
"yea. It's good pay and they give you free food."
"I dont think they need anymore slot machines.."
"you bitch! Hahahahahahahha God I love ya."

"I'll be ready by 6.30, see you soon xo"

6.45 and I was fifteen minutes late. It was raining that day. The breeze was cold, my clothes were wet, the rose I bought you looked damp, and the smile you greeted me with looked priceless.

"What do you want to drink?"
"surprise me!"
"Red wine? Vodka?Beer?Gin?"
I forgot. He was also a bartender.
"A glass of red wine please," I smiled
"Excellent choice," you smiled back while you got the glasses ready.
"A toast!", "a toast!"
"to us," "to Us."

Our glasses met, our lips met after.

"So what are you cooking me again?"
"Adobo"
"what is it made of?"
"Pork, potatoes, soy and vinegar"
"Sounds good"
"if you got the right soy that I asked you to buy, I guess"
"I wish you were more specific when you asked me."
"haha. I forgot you weren't Asian."
"Don't worry. You'll make up for it after dinner."

It has always been raining in Queensland. The irony of the Sunshine State, it always rains in Summer.
Dinner was good. Drinking red and lying next to you felt even better.
I fell asleep halfway the passionate kisses and grinding. We were intoxicated.

I woke up three hours later. We made love, we fell asleep.
I had work that day, at nine.
You were off to see your parents down at New South Wales at eleven.

"it's nine pass five," you were trying to wake me up.
"fuck! Are you serious?!"
"you're late."
"I gotta go," after Making out with him for two more minutes.

I got to work at half pass nine, it was still raining, his breath still tasted fresh and my boss almost fired me.

New

2011-01-05T12:41:00.005+10:00

It's one of those days again. Those days where you just want to stop for a while and think about life. Life, its always about fucking life. It gets tiring, hard and annoying. There's no point on winging though, you just always have to, just have to, eventually, stand up that bench, kill your cigarette and finish your last sip of coffee.

It's all about moving forward.

It's just unfair how good, loving people like me have to be the one who has to get through this often. I guess I'm just blessed that way. Or so I think. I guess it's also good being far away from home, away from everybody, independent and getting yourself temporarily rooted. That's it, just so you could have your own so called space in this small world of ours.

I've learned that life should be taken in small ounces, taking too much of it causes anxiety, depression, withdrawal symptoms and probably even death. But I got all over that phase now, but that doesn't mean it won't all go back to you at one point. Least to say, I am proud of myself.

I can't believe I'd be able to barely make it like this. Literally living in the heart of Brisbane, employed, surrounded by loving people and facing life head on like a lion tamer. No, scratch that-I'm the lion who needs to be tamed. A lion who still has a lot to learn; from taking care of his own mane, to winning territories, and about letting go of his own pride to learn.

Life is good. Especially when things get fucked like this.

I wish we all have that one week in a month where everything's just fine and dandy. No problems, no pr

Back pain

2011-01-03T17:38:00.002+10:00

I woke up tired, intoxicated, and literally fucked

Told you, this whole resolution about decreasing my sexcapades is futile. It's hopeless.
I realized, after all this repression, it's best to just accept my natural sluttiness.
That's what mum said anyway, "embrace your hormones, live life and be safe"

So I ended up waking up 2.1 kilometers from my place at 12:38 in the afternoon.
It was cold, it was raining outside.

"Good morning gorgeous," he whispered before planting his lips deep in my neck.
"Shit. What time is it?"
"12:38... Mmm I'm hard, wanna do it again?"
"if only you weren't around 9, yes... I can't handle that shit, okay?"

I hugged him, felt his radiating skin. I stared at his face, studied every wrinkle, his deep colourful eyes and soft pink lips.

I realized, I can actually get hot guys now.
Never thought I could though but eversince this New Year it's all been either hot guys in my bed and sometimes like this one, me on a hot guy's bed.I think he's gorgeous. His lips simply puckered on his flawless face and his chest, supporting just the right amount of hair and two cute pink nipples. What else can I ask for?

"Youre pretty good with those lips"
"Thats what my job is anyway, I work with this motherfuckers."
"ha!"
"Shut up and let's just do it."

*

If there's one thing I learned today is that nobody can go against cosmic power and that being rammed on a bathroom sink causes backpain.

Cubs on Cardigans

2011-01-01T23:43:00.003+10:00

Let's do a quick re-cap on the highlights of last year shall we?

• Moved down to Australia late of February.
• Went back to highschool for Grade 12
• Underwent 7 months of celibacy and the rest of the year Slutting.
• Got my first job working at a Chinese Restaurant...and got fired for being slow
• Lost my virginity* inside a car a block away from my home.
• Undergone depression for the first time
• Tried prostitution and gave up after the first client
• Introduced a boy to the family
• Moved out of the house and got a place in the city
• Got myself into Charity work and Human Rights work
• Turned eighteen
• Done it bareback
• Been called a slut by my own mum
• Turned into a potato queen
• Learned to manipulate people better
• Learned to lie better
• Slept with a married guy
• and made out with a girl at New Year's Eve

Can't wait what 2011 has to offer ;)
Trying to lessen my Slutting, Smoking and Shopping

And ending up hooking up first thing in the morning, smoked after and went out to buy a pair of skinnies at Levis. (50% dc)

the fear

2010-12-24T18:47:00.004+10:00

"Meet me at Victory Club, I'll be on the right-end bar wearing a red polo"

I was already ten minutes late when I was fixing my hair inside my flat's bathroom. I told him I was walking pass Queen Street already when in fact, I was still thinking of either wearing docks or plain rubber shoes. I tried to make it look like it was a date, I know it wasn't, "it's just a night out with a mate," he repeated.

The Victory Club, ladies and gentleman, is what people call a White bar. Apparently, its a bar where white people usually go to and drink beer. Usually cheap, bogans and businessmen go there on all day happy-hour Thursdays and midly-skanky Saturdays.

It was boring, like an old man's penis. Nothing special, too crowded, and awful music.

"Can we go somewhere else soon?"

"Too straight for you?"

"Yes, very."

"Sure. The Beat?"

"Yes please."

"Cool. They're happy hour is on ten to eleven today, quick! to the cab!"

He walked fast across streets, waved at dozens of cab drivers, and ran across Chinatown to the Valley. In five minutes we were there, sitting by the smoking area.

"So Chris, tell me more about yourself."

"Mmmm. Me and your ex has the same problem I reckon."

"Ha! and that is?"

"We're both rice queens."

"Shut up! Okay, maybe you are, but I said something about yourself, say something apart from the obvious."

"Dickhead!"

So then I found out that he's a bartender at the casino, stopped studying linguistics to travel and went to the Philippines last November for a week. He went to Cellu(?), and Obar. Soooo if you ever met this 20-year old blonde blue-green eyed Aussie on the last week of November, it's probably him.

As much as I told myself that I'm jaded, obviously, I'm not. I'm just too afraid, that if I get too attached to him, that I'll break myself again. I'd rather keep my mouth shut than to be devoured by his beauty.

Things are just too complicated for him right now. I want to know if he's worth the risk.

bridges

2010-12-10T02:19:00.002+10:00

I miss your smile; your sweet carefree smile that assured me of home when I was still lying next to you. I miss your laughter, your hair, your room that smelled like sandalwood, your orange wall, and your pictures on the wall, your family, your couch, and those two cute pups that share your home.

As much as I don’t want to get over you, a part of me just knows I have to. It only makes me upset every time I think about those late-night drives and that thirty-dollar buffet at the casino.

Your kisses I miss the most. Your pink red lips dancing with mine felt like the most beautiful art in the world. You’d hold my hands in public; you’d tickle me while shopping and spank my ass in front of your dad. We were in love, I was blinded with love, or was it even love in t he first place?

I don’t know why I still cry about you each night. Maybe it was the fact that you haunted my dreams every night. You were always there, always popping up in the end of the mini-series. I’d always wake up by the time I held your hand-one time the dream felt so real that it made me cry when I woke up-I was dreaming, I’d do anything in the world just to feel your love again.

It’s true. All we need is love. I was unemployed, homeless, fucked with school but having you in my life felt like all of those things felt like nothing. I was at peace with you, like nothing bad is ever going to happen as long as our souls dance and our lips sync. Love, where are you now?

One more week ‘till you get back home again from Melbourne. My heart still hopes for your return. Your warm caress my body needs, your wide broad shoulders where my head used to sleep.

I sound desperate. Barren and young like the blue moon’s illusion.
Please come back my young beautiful Adam, the love of your life awaits you.

Unspoken

2010-12-06T22:27:00.001+10:00

I for one think that there's this unspoken shindig when it comes to smoking pot. It's everywhere.

My search for the perfect house has been futile. Let's just be honest here, a hundred and forty bucks a week can't really get you that fab bachelor pad that you've always been dreaming of.

It's either theres dodgy lights , awful sewage system, a seven kilometre walking distance or bogan housemates that you have to deal with. That's cool, I guess-'cause there'll always be something to sacrifice. It's life in general, its full of motherfucking sacrifices.

sharing is caring

2010-11-30T21:48:00.001+10:00

9th floor balcony at M on Mary.

I have 45 cents left on my pocket. That forty five cents is the only money I have until next motherfucking Thursday. Other than the forty five cents i have left, I have seventeen dollars on my go card for transportation-that's about three days of travelling from anywhere outside the city.

Thank god mum gave me money before I moved out. Enough money to buy food that'll last 'till this week's Saturday, apparently not enough 'till next motherfucking Thursday.

What a great opportunity to get myself on a diet. With my bio-clock waking me up at exactly 6:04 everyday, it can be quite hard to have myself not eating anything 'till brunch. Brunches would always be the same though-four cups of rice and two servings of any bloody meal I could think of.

Sharing is caring, but fucking sharing when what's left is one kilo of pork belly is just bloody ridiculous.

-thoughts of a povo starving smoking teenager

Job

2010-11-26T17:00:00.003+10:00

Exactly five in the arvo inside the family's study.

So I have a job now. Finding it was a bit weird. I was aimlessly walking through the city four days ago when this bubbly chic chick asked me how my day was.

"Hey! How are you?"

"AWWWFULL. Been trying to get myself a job for over a week now."

"Oh! Well, Josh is always looking for people to do this. If you're keen, you could leave me your number and I'll have them contact you by next week."

"Great!"

"Good luck"

"Cheers!"

and thats where it all started. 108 Edward intersecting Ann Street.

The interview the next two days was ..interesting. I was worried when he asked us if we were all fluent in English. I know I'm not. I have a lisp.

"Guys, if you can put up with people telling you to piss off, fuck off, and that you're a scum of the earth. I don't think this is the job for you. It's tough, but it's fun. This is not just a job, once you get yourself into it, it will turn into your lifestyle."

I could see some of the people next to me clearing out their throats. We all know it's not easy. Nothing is. But I guess it's that drive to make change that keeps the person working.

"You get one yes from two hundred rejections. People will ignore you. You will have to talk to people everyday. Hundreds, thousands, a week. You think you can do that?"

I knew that public speaking ain't my strong point. I'd rather lie somewhere inside a bookstore reading books than pleasing people.

"I'm going to have you guys go through three activities today. We are the highest paid charity workers and we only need the best of the best out of this bunch. If you don't think you can handle it by now, you're free to leave."

Nobody left. So we did the activities. From usual introductions then comes debate, seven people were already kicked out of the bunch. It was hard, things were getting tougher. Everybody around me seemed to be older, a lot more good-looking, and way more charismatic.

"Great. The next thing you guys need to do is get these slips here and do surveys around the streets. I'll give you ten minutes then I'll call you all back."

That was the real thing for me. Talking with people. I thought it was fun despite being ignored, ran away from, swore at and even being told how my job sucks. None of it affect me though, it was weird. I'd still manage to greet them goodbye and a g'day after being totally ignored. I thought, maybe, if I keep on doing this, eventually, being rejected from dates wouldn't hurt that much anymore-not that I was ever rejected for a date ;p

But yea, doing it made me feel..alive and occupied. I finally had the guts to talk to those hot yuppies with their power-suits, the sexy latinos that usually walk about Queen street, and even the usual posh snob.

I loved every second of it. I felt like I was trapped in this never-ending pool that continuously pumped adrenaline in and out. In those ten minutes, I forgot about the world, my problems, who I was, but not what I was there for.

Later that day after the final interview, they called back, told me I got in.

I guess I am the best of the best or maybe I'm just naturally slutty.

Late-night train

2010-11-24T21:41:00.001+10:00

9.22 inside the old middle cabin of Cleveland train.

Growing up is so much harder than I thought it would be. There's the monthly bills; rent, electricity , water and telephone. Then there's clothes, food, clothes, and clothes.

But before settling in by yourself you have to spend days going around the city looking for jobs and waking up five in the morning just so you wouldn't be late for your interviews. It's hard. So hard that I broke down infront of Mum again while we were having dinner two nights ago.

Life can be quite daunting for a young soul like me. There's rejection, affirmation and sweat. I'd go around everyday wearing the same bloody power suit, sweating, panting, and running around Queen street hoping I'd reach the job interview in time......

Then there's disappointment; the dodgy contract, the ridiculous faulty work ethic, and bogan co-workers. Finding a job wasn't hard, It's having the guts to hold onto something entirely foreign's the hard one. I've done multiple trials over the past days with me eventually rejecting the offer. I reckon, I'm too gorgeous for this-for a little shithead like me, I can still be quite picky.

Talking to people is harder than I thought. There's the douchebags that'd tell you to fuck off, and then there's those who're just as lost as I am. Innately, we all know we're in the same shithole-it was just our way of trying to make it seem better that differs.

Life is rough, thank god i like it rough.

Power suit

2010-11-24T11:18:00.001+10:00

11:42 inside a van en route to deception bay.

I never thought I'd wear a power suit . I once thought that an artist should never ever be caught dead wearing one. It just goes against the grain. Wearing a uniform meant uniformity, rules to follow , an objective , paperwork, and black or brown leather pointed shoes. Besides, I don't look good in one. I'd rather wear something that I find myself comfortable in-tank top and shorts.

With utmost boredom and having nothing else to do but spend my day reading books, I said yes with the trial after the interview. I thought, okay, i'll give it a shot-even if it were commission.

Selling myself ain't that hard. Doing escorting back then does have its good points- you learn to use your charm when you need it. I was the only one left after the whole interview period. For a second, I felt special. I guess the ego boost was good enough to get myself through the day. I just wish it ends soon so I could get back home already.

I miss home.

Back in the game

2010-11-21T01:18:00.005+10:00

I think its time I get back to taking pictures. It's been a while. Besides, its what this blog is supposed to be all about anyway. Apparently, its been named "An Artist's Orgasm" because it was meant to be a photoblog.

Next thing I know it was all about sex, puberty, turning eighteen and sex. It's like porn. People are just naturally attracted to it. Despite the constant grammatical errors that I keep on doing post after post. I'd like to think that somehow, if I keep on doing this, my brain would just automatically be my own Grammar teacher. It probably had the whole grammar lessons stuck in there somewhere.

(all photos on this blog are all done by myself, otherwise, I'd say who the photographer is)

Now that I have nothing but free time on my hands, don't you think its time to get my photography working? I still do take photos even though its been months since I had a photo up in here. I've just been busy. Besides, I usually post photos on Facebook anyway. Well, used to.

Being unemployed again has given me more time to look and hopefully, get something that I love. Working at a bookstore for example is something that I'd kill koalas for. I may seem a bit picky when it comes to finding work, but the thing is, I know myself too well and I know I'd give up on working on something as soon as I lose interest. Books and anything to do with photos won't-that's why I'm aiming for those two, just those two..

Hopefully, this photo should be enough to tell you how I feel.

something better

2010-11-20T18:13:00.001+10:00

Quarter pass six outside Starbucks along Queen street.

So I didn't want to work for them. It was just too......dodgy and corrupt. The contract's as fucked as any typical gay guy living in the city-slutty, misleading, bitchy.

As much as I want to earn a living while I wait for my university acceptance letter, I wouldn't want to work somewhere underpaid and overworked. I reckon I deserve better than this!

I dont want to sound arrogant even though most of the people I talked to about this all said "Just do it for the meantime, its still money." If you were in my position, fucking oath you'd know what I'm talking about.

I finished my first shift though, even though I knew the whole time that I wouldn't like the job. A part of going to it was because I wanted to see an old friend. Despite burning bridges a few weeks back, I wanted to know how he was doing-I missed him.

Now that I'm back to being plain old unemployed-I hope the other shops I went to would call me soon. Soon enough to save me from the deep hopeless shithole that is Victoria Point.

Such is life.

Breakaway

2010-11-20T06:18:00.001+10:00

At Bus Stop A 5:30 in the morning at Victoria Point Shops

First day, first-time, first full-time job at the city.

It only took me a couple minutes to realize that the Bus station's website had the whole time-table wrong. Apparently, the Bus doesnt come here 'till quarter pass 6-I got here quarter pass five.

This is what I hate about bloody Australia. Transportation. I'm quite sure anybody from here would say that. It's just either way too late, way too early or in my case, has the wrong time-table.

This reminds me of that time I first got here . All fresh, untouched by foreign waters (ching!), and young. I've always thought "Fuck! Its pretty good out here. Peaceful. Pristine. Vanilla Town. "

Though it didn't take me a while to realize that I've been set on a shithole filled with uggboots and people who thinks all Asians have small doodles. Living in the suburbs is like living in the province. It's too fucking boring and too fucking peaceful.

Where the hell have all the murder , car accidents and high-jacking all went to. The weird thing is, I kinda miss that rush of adrenaline you get whenever you're commuting back in the Philippines. It was always, you have to be quick and attentive. Now, all you have to be is alive and..well, patient.

After graduating yesterday, I didn't even look back at everybody who was crying at the Student Centre. I ran away as soon as I got my certificate. I thought, "thank fucking god im over this shit.. Good riddance Vicky-fucking-point!"

Fuck it feels great to leave this place. Hopefully, soon enough, those people who were advertising their flats at roommatelocatordotcom sends me a reply. Hopefully, I'd get out of this shithole and finally get the chance to live next to the city.

I have never been content being in one place. I get easily bored. In a year, I'd like to move somewhere else again.

I've deactivated my facebook, changed my sim card and is now, kind of, moving to the city. In a place like this where friends wouldn't be those kind of people you'd always call friends-burning bridges is so much easier. Now, while waiting for my bus to arrive in less than five minutes. I hope, to whomever it is that tosses shit infront of our faces to make things abit more easy now that I'm leading a new life. Away from the corrupt gay lifestyle and just focusing on work, work, and cheap chic clothes at Cotton On.

Japanese

2010-11-19T13:49:00.002+10:00

I finished Highschool awhile ago, and while I was on my chair, waiting for my name to be read, my boyfriend broke up with me. What a good punch, but where's the joke?

It was hard getting up the stage while both my feet were slowly sinking deep. People thought I was happy about this, I wasn't-I didn't care. People thought tears of joy were streaming down my face while I was shaking all their hands. I wasn't smiling. I was breaking down, in front of everybody, in front of the whole school.

What made the whole experience worst was Mum asking me if my boyfriend's coming along to eat with us. She kept on asking, she kept on wondering.

It was hard holding myself in. Ignoring the fact of giving everything and having all those things you gave falling to pieces in front of you.

"Ma, wala na pala kami ni Adam."

"Ano?! Ano nangyari?"

"Basta" and then I just broke down. In front of the Japanese restaurant. Exposed. Naked. Torn.

and so I ran away.

Urge to speak

2010-11-15T18:54:00.001+10:00

I had two choices to let this thing escape my system. It was either on this small red moleskin book or blogging. In between the events of wanting to purchase the book, I was having my post-stress ciggy-urging moments- which is by the way quite often now that I'm finishing high school by the end of the week. The book costs twenty-two sixty and the pack of cigs costs fifteen fourty-five. I chose to be sane.

I had my job interview today at the Hotel a friend of mine suggested a month ago.Not wanting to get myself blowed by overweight desperate rich businenessmen, I decided to apply and luckily enough, they called me.

It was quick. Too quick actually. I shook her hand, greeted her as usual and sat infront of her just for her to ask me when I'd be able to start and if I have any ideas of what job kind of job am i going to do.

I left the building at approximately five minutes before i got there. If you ask me, it was rather a waste of time, energy and handshakes to have me travelling two hours from my suburb just for her to ask me when I'm available for work. I'm quite sure emailing me wouldn't be that much of a hassle either. Then again, maybe it was just for the sake of being professional. Yep, pro-fucking-fessional.

People tend to make things too complicated. I think that's the problem with today's society. First thing you'd know that condoms are enough to make you safe, the next thing you find out that condoms are actually...not that effective to saving your ass from contracting AIDS. Quite literally in my case really. Who the fuck started this whole "be safe" propaganda anyway?

Well I haven't really made research yet if whether this guy who commented on Mgg's blog telling everybody that condoms aren't really that effective from saving ourselves from AIDS because all condoms have holes small enough to even let a small amount of semen to get through-He can just get himself fucked!

Okay, maybe thats the reason why Im experiencing paranoia right now. Maybe. Just maybe. It could be something else. I might be pregnant, hungry or just missing my boyfriend way too much. I don't know.

But I assure you one thing after all this babbling trapped in my head finally being put down on a piece of paper.(more like on my phone 'cause im currently on the transit on my way home) If what that guy said is true, then I guess its the end of hooking up or the start of a global epydemic that will soon wipeout every single human-being in the face of this world! Otherwise, if that fucker is just making all that shit up, well I wish to whoever made this goddamn Earth of ours to have that faggot raped by Dogs and dragged down in the middle of the highway to be driven over by an eighteen-wheeler truck then being left breathing while undergoing extreme pain and damnation after acting like a massive dickheaded smart-ass :)

Mmm....the feeling of letting out insanity. Priceless.

fallen

2010-10-30T21:41:00.003+10:00

I hope I could tell you everything that have happened with me during the past weeks. Emotionally drained, I don't even feel like writing anymore. Something deep inside me head tells me to do so though-you're lucky, I guess.

I got fired from work quite recently. It was unfair but it was also my fault, It didn't really affect me until I realized that I do need money to get my shit together; gym membership, bus fare, cigarettes, and my daily dose of double shot white chocolate mocha. The four things that still keeps me sane.

Desperate, I got myself into escorting. I think being called an escort is the best euphemism I could think of aside from being called a prostitute or a whore. It's less degrading that way-I don't even give a fuck about what other people think anymore.I get the money out, I eat, breathe and smoke-my soul then achieves sanity.

I've asked the government and they told me they were unable to support me because I haven't been here long enough. "32 weeks," I said, they said "You need to be at least a hundred and fifty."Fuck them-I need a full-time job.

I have two weeks left until I can-by parental law-get my stuff out of the house. Juggling school, work, and getting a place to live in and finding a decent paying full-time job feels like a total blur right now. Don't worry, I'm training myself. They were right-what doesn't kill you makes you stronger-I just hope I don't get some disease doing this that'll eventually stop my heart from beating.

I've learned to be manipulative. I've learned to cover myself up. I've learned not to have my emotions get in the way of things-I didn't know it was possible until I tampered myself to my limit-It's been so much easier to make decisions ever since. I'm getting better with reading people as well.

I hope things were easier. I'm just hoping things will get better-I'm too tired already.

there's gotta be

2010-10-13T21:00:00.002+10:00

9pm at the Redland’s Public Library.

An old friend was outside the office while I waited for her this morning, “Are you okay?” she asked, “I’m good,” I lied. “Do you want a hug,” her eyes filled with empathy, I hugged her back without words. She hugged me tight, and as soon as I realized, tears started to roll down my face.

Our School Guidance Councilor had me booked for meetings with the local psychologist today. She was worried about me, the way I told her what I was going through, that sense of monotone running pass my throat while tears too salty to swallow drenched my face like a broken sink. My tears were enough to show her how shattered I felt inside this skin, I was losing it.

I told her about everything. My thoughts about prostitution, my chronic smoking, my drug use, my ways of achieving temporary high to get myself through the day-she held my arm tight while her words of reassurance danced futile outside my ear. It will get better, she would tell me.

I came to her this morning for one simple significant reason-I had nobody else to go to.

Suicide has presented itself to me as an option, for once, I felt content about the thought of it.

Mum’s been slowly drifting away from me. She has always been under my step-father’s wings. My step-father, who despised my choices but praised my talent, reminded me so much of myself-my irrationality, my narrow-mindedness-a twelve year old me who only focused on sex and what’s for dinner.

Mum never had a choice, it was either she agrees with him or he kicks us out of the house. We have no choice, we’re the only two left, and we have to keep on holding on to something, at least, something to let us sleep for the night.

She tried to help me sort myself out. She kept me grounded for awhile, she kept me breathing as my soul felt barren and obsolete-In times like this where you don’t have anything else to hold on to, don’t forget about yourself. You should always have yourself first in priority; you have to hold on to yourself.

She was right.

when all things fail

2010-10-09T16:03:00.003+10:00

4pm, inside a frenchman's laundromat.

Life has its ways. Sometimes, events happen by fate. Our choices, no matter how obscure and misleading, always leads us back to what our fate is. This leads me to thinking if whether these recent events happening in my life are caused by fate.

I haven't been updating recently for three simple reasons

It's my last term in highschool
I've been sorting out my life
and I'm going to be kicked out of my own house

Life hasn't punched me this much in the face since I first had my HIV test. You know the feeling, we've all been there. They get some samples of you, you go home and panic for a week or two, then you get the results. Mine's negative, thank god.

This post isn't about HIV though, neither is this about me dissertating fate.

Never in my life have I ever been stuck deep in a shithole. Just when I thought staying in a house where people didn't trust you, didn't feed you and let you stay in a cardboard mattress was the worse thing that could happen, I was proven wrong. Life always has its ways of serving you another dish to eat-presented like one of those things they have on Masterchef or any cooking show you watch on tv, you won't know what they're serving. You won't know if it has poison, You won't know if its even food. All you have to do is leave it to luck, and hopefully, with fingertoes and fingers crossed so tight your bones are going to snap, they're serving something edible. And if you feel luck is far more by your side than usual, you might even get your favourite dish. Mine's corned-beef with chopped potatoes.

I'm way too fucked to let life serve me another dish. I'd rather make my own food now. I'm too fed up with all the rotten tomatoes stuck in-between mixed cabbages and moist cucumbers. The steak, always over-done, scraping through my throat like a pack of razour-is something that I won't ever have them serving me again. I reckon I deserve so much more than this. So much more than being waken up at eight in the morning on a weekend, so much more than being mistreated and yelled at for being immature.

I may be alone, left on the streets, and wet by spring's tears. I maybe lost, unkempt and full of fears. But I know I can get through this, I know I can get through this. Despite rotten tomatoes, overdone steaks, and nerve-wracking hiv tests, I know I can get through this.

And if by any chance that this is my last post, it could either be because I'm dead, hung somewhere and drowned somewhere or just living somewhere where internet is something that you pay for two bucks for twenty-minutes.

uncovering the teen

2010-10-01T15:26:00.002+10:00

Who could've thought you'd learn something from hooking-up aside from different positions and ways to give a better head?

It's only when dozen of cocks go up your ass until you realize something that you've been doing it wrong the whole time. Being eighteen has taught of me of things like teenage angst and hormones. Just when I thought I had my peak of hormones at seventeen, eighteen came on really hard. No pun intended. I'd have sex three times a day sometimes, sometimes, even hooking-up everyday.

I've been tearing myself apart emotionally and physically. They were right, doing it wrong is better than doing it right on the first try, you never learn that way. I couldn't control my anger sometimes, it just lets go, I hurt people, I just can't think right when I think I have a vagina in between my legs. It's just frustrating as.

I learned about self-respect after a week of having fun. That sometimes, we have to stop ourselves from binging, 'cause too much of one thing will always lead to something bad. I hope people would stop reminding me of safe sex 'cause bitch, I'm doing it safe okay?! I may be horny and fucked up all the time but I always do it safe. It's not like I fucking forget to have rubber with me just because I'm just way too horny. It may seem that I'm your typical slut faced ho-bag, but in reality, I'm so much more than that.

Hooking up like a desperate fucktard attracts other desperate fucktards. I've tried being genuine for a day, and look what I got, a fucking hot middle-aged middle eastern from Melbourne! BWAHAHAHAHAHA. But seriously, I've been such a despo when it comes to this stuff that it eventually broke my essence.

Hopefully, I'll be able to go on with this with better principles and understanding at how the world is. I will just be focusing on myself right now, no more hooking-up and definitely not leading on men again.

Karma will always be a bitch, you just have to show her whose bitchier.

two things

2010-10-01T12:21:00.002+10:00

We've been talking for a week now. I know, a week, actually, not really a week. It's been four days since we started talking to each other. We met at manhunt. You're twenty-four and I'm eighteen.

Our conversations always last an hour, with extras added on the end just so we could still feel that warmth that trapped us both in our presence, we didn't mind going late for work, we talk to make our day feel lighter-or was it just me all along?

I'm a delusional hormonal imaginative teenager, I over-process events, I over-complicate, I'm a realist who dreams of flying unicorns and zombie apocalypse. In other words, I'm an oxymoron. A walking, talking, bottom oxymoron.

I have weak knees for chubs and for geeks, but weaker knees for that gorgeous boy that goes to my gym every Monday afternoon around twenty-four pass four to six in the evening. I have a very low self-esteem. You see, I was fat. Very, fat. I spent my days watching MYX-which is this karaoke channel-in the mornings and played my Play Station until midnight when I was young. I was a sloth, and then I realize, I still am.

After hitting puberty, I grew taller, grew thinner, but stretch marks marked my body like a cheetah, it left itself a scar, a scar of that fat cuddly little boy that obnoxiously sang Korean songs and played racing games filled with birds and rainbows.

I do not know why you should like me, I'm incredibly impatient, stubborn and acne-prone. I know the arts though, or so I think. I've realized that a number of people at school only like me because I take good photos of them, otherwise, I'm stuck as one of those weirdos from school 'cause I'm Asian. It's true though. I don't like putting myself down, but everybody knows, on a backward community that is pretending to be contemporary, they consider homosexuals and Asians a minority. I consider myself a double minority, but not worse than the aboriginals.

I maybe crude and frank, but I always tell the truth. Despite having no clue of your physique, I am deeply connected to you. I guess I'm just desperate that way-winking at every potential track list on manhunt.That's where I get my men though, people who check out my profile but never bother talking to me.

1. Because I looked cute on the thumbnail until they had it on full size

2. They like the shirt I'm wearing

3. Fear of rejection

4. Assumption that all Asians have small dicks and are effeminate

There's nothing more I could whine about now but by the way you make me wait. I'd wait, for hours, just to talk to you, just to hear those words than once strung those chords in my ear. You see, I've been depressed. Depressed from playing too much, depressed from sucking in every potential hook-up. I'm worn out, tired, but still hungry.

I knew the lesson ages ago, that places like this doesn't really hold relationships. But I was hopeful, that in one weird universal conspiracy, I might find somebody constant but evolving. There are only two things, two things that I know about you. One, is that you have brown wavy hair that looks like antique brown once hit by sunlight, and two, that your blue eyes are as deep as the sea that once tried to kill me when I was three.

wetsheets

2010-09-21T08:10:00.005+10:00

I was around your arms when he called me on the phone. I stood up, "I think its mum, I didn't tell her whom I'm staying with tonight."

You smiled.

After the dial tone, you asked, "is he your boy?"

I shook my head.

"You were smiling the whole time while you were talking to him."

"Mmmm. He's a friend...you know..he's one of those friends that you just can't ever get it on with"

"Tell me."

and so I did. While wrapped in your arm I recalled all the sourest and sweetest day me and that boy had. You'd smile every now and then, you'd kiss me in-between my stories. I told you what kept me stuck on that boy's web. You sighed.

"He's straight, right? Why are you doing this to yourself? If you think about it, with all those moments you've had together-he would've just did it with you already. But no, because he's a dick tease. I don't like seeing you dragging yourself like this. You deserve better."

Your arm hugged my ribs tighter, I could barely feel my heartbeat under my skin, I pushed you back. "I don't know. I think there's something for us. Maybe, I'm not too sure, I don't have the balls to confront him."

I came back to your chest, your warmth assured my existence on a cold Spring. I stared blankly pass your face while your hands played with my hair, "There's just those things you can't ever explain in this world. If only I knew how to quit him, I would've. He's just too hard to neglect, he'll always be one of my soft spots."

"There, there hun," as you raised my face from your shoulder.

"I think he'll be one of those people whom you'll be friends with with the rest of your life. With all the things you've been through. He's just playing. He's single. I bet, as soon as he gets himself a girlfriend, he wouldn't be fooling around you anymore." I felt a sudden punch down my chest with your words.

"It's all fun and games with him. He's always the only one having fun! It's always biased. Fuck him."

I really wish it was that easy to forget about somebody. To fully let go of someone without feeling anything. Burning bridges didn't mean you won't be burning too-he is a falling star.

For a second, I drowned him in my mind

Soon after, we made love again.

Friends zone

2010-09-13T01:00:00.004+10:00

I'm quite sure you've heard about this so-called Friends Zone once or twice in your lifetime. According to urban dictionary, Friends zone is

The point at which you can no longer date a girl. She has told you too many secrets, or you took too long to make your move. You are now in the friends zone, and there is no return.

in other words, its this imaginary zone your friends puts you in once he/she decides not to fuck with you. It's fucked up. I know. Like, who in the freaking right mind would ever put somebody they used to like to fuck in a friends zone. It's just stupid 'cause once you put that guy in your friends zone, its irreversible, like AIDS. It's stuck there and all you could do now is play with yourself with the thoughts of him fucking you. & bitch, no, I don't want to hear that I-dont-want-to-ruin-the-friendship crap.

I never believed in the friends zone. I think people can always be friends and can still be fucked at the same time. If you think about it, people start out as friends and eventually end up as boyfriends and girlfriends anyway. Not most of them though, but you know what I mean.

But where am I exactly heading to? Why did I even start this whole conversation about Friends zone with you?

So there's this boy I like from school right? You know, smiley face? the one whom I've been hanging out with? My friend told me that he's been giving me invi-fucking-tations too many times already that my stubbornness might just make me lose the opportunity. I wasn't too sure if they were really INVI-FUCKING-TATIONS though.

First invi-fucking-tation: Tequilla night

Smiley Face : You do know you don't need to get me drunk just to get into my pants ;)

Second invi-fucking-tation: Yaggerbomb night

Smiley Face : I wouldn't really mind having you for a head ;)

I wouldn't count those days and night we play around though. But it just seems to be a bit steamy every time we talk like this when we're tipsy. I just couldn't do it. I wish. I wish I had the balls to do it. To just look him in the eyes and say "JUST DROP THAT MOFUCKING SHORTS AND LEMME SUCK THAT COCK, CUNT!"

I see us as good-mates. I'm not too keen to see things fuck up 'cause he treats me right. He reminds me of my bestmate who didn't mind me being gay. That despite our contradicting interests like skateboarding to screamo music, we get along so well.

My friends was right though, "Just do it! Which is better? Whoring around while mauling over this ONE GUY who you really want to do it with or just do it then go back to whoring around knowing that you've fulfilled your hunger."

I had to agree with her. She was right, but what if I was wrong?

One of those things that I hate about straight guys is that they like playing around.

This one, just had me stuck to his game way too long enough for me to actually do it.

I was really close to doing it the morning after we had a few drinks though.

We were watching this bad American teenage movie full of tits and dildos while lying on my couch. I had my head resting next to his crotch. With tits all over the screen, I was quite sure that pillow on top of his shorts was his way of covering up the hard-on. He was touching his dick more often than usual too-trying to fix the angle or scratching it I guess. But I was there, next to IT. A few inches and I couldv'e just went straight on to his cock.

But I didn't. Why? Because he's a friend and you don't fuck with friends in the friends zone.

Nuh, fuck that. I didn't because his mum was already waiting on the door to pick him up already, otherwise, I might have got that dick up my ass in no time.

For now, I wait.

P.S. And while you wait with me, check out this mad cunt (its a link. click it!) I found while blog-hopping a few days ago.

Blue-chips and Blowjobs

2010-09-05T23:00:00.003+10:00

Winter has officially ended when we met. It was warm already, I can still remember the sweat running down your forehead as it dripped down my chest. We talked about this after we decided to have a quickie pass a block from my house last Tuesday-it was kinky-your car jumped the streets with each pursuit. Exploding like a fountain on you that night would be an understatement. Fucking oath you'd agree.

You picked me up at nine at my place last Friday. "We're having a movie marathon," you said. I smiled. You live ten minutes away from me if I walked it and three minutes away by car-You are one heck of a perfect catch.

A kiss surprised me as soon as I got inside your car, it made me blush.

----

I sat by your cat with the beer you offered me as soon as I got in your place. It was lovely. The paintings you made, the simplicity, it echoed my soul as I touched the Vincent Van Gogh inspired painting you made with your friend with the silhouette of Brisbane.

Your humour never tired me, your lips, locking with mine on hours end, felt so natural as it grazed down my spine.

It made me smile when you said "We'd make love," I knew this isn't love, my jaded heart ignored your words. We kissed from your couch to your bed, your biceps choked my back as I struggled to kiss you even harder. It was passionate.

I felt so lucky that night; a rugby player/an architect/a painter, you were an artistic jock, few souls like you walked this Earth, I was eager to know what else you hid down that shirt. Amidst Family Guy playing on the background, my tongue walked along your skin down your shorts. It was hot, it looked like you just got home from a game.

Our foreplay lasted for hours. Five hours to be exact. It was weird, I never felt tired grazing my lips up your ear down to your lips. You went inside me gently, slowly. I could still remember that face you pulled-off as you felt it all go in. I never told you but you are the biggest that I've had. It was thick, throbbing, wrapped with a cock-ring that made it more harder. I was proud of myself after the kissing, moaning and breathing. I had control of you.

We came like rain on each other. Your lips sealed the deal. Everything else was a blur after it. My legs were numb and my eyes were tired. I passed out next to your chest as I felt your lips kiss my head.

Waking up the next morning, we did it again. It was crazy again and again, I fell asleep next to your chest.

2010-08-28T00:14:00.003+10:00

Sometimes, I like the way we give in. To the wind, the earth, the sweet taste of lust, it's like love, once you get a bite of it, you'll never stop looking for it. It's a drug, and drugs are bad for you.

You hit the rewind endlessly.

I wish words would just flow out of my mouth like vomit sometimes. Sadly, my sore throat never gave me the chance to. It's the cold, It's winter. Don't you just hate the chill it sends down your spine while you walk your way to the bus-stop?

Don't you just hate life sometimes when it slaps you the obvious. You'd feel redundant. A gaping hole to endless possibilities and an end to something that once brought light. You're a growing oxymoron. I wish you knew how to fix yourself faster.

You wish for reassurance. Like a bin of compliments, you wouldn't mind over-flowing. You'd rather be a total mess. Why can't you fix yourself any faster? I feel so tired and hopeless helping you. I'm sorry but I don't have the formula neither.

I wish I knew it so I wouldn't see you suffer each night while you drag yourself along the icy floor every morning. It hurts me to see you this way.

His words equate to nothing, you know that, but why do you paint over them? You're killing yourself. You're playing with the wrong people. I wish things were easier for both of us. I can feel your pain, your drooping eyes ready to rest. Sleep love, it'll all be good in the morning.

I hope.

railway

2010-08-14T21:24:00.002+10:00

Sometimes, I could feel the air trying to drown me. The wind, cold and tired, I feel his journey, his skin caressing my lips.

Can you feel the cold air? Can you hear his dried words among dancing leaves? He embraces those who are cold, his love, like death.

Sitting alone, I could see their lost faces across train tracks. Everybody seems to be lost souls once they start phasing out while on their usual routines. I could feel their pain. That sense of longing. I know how it feels, we all miss it.

Your earphones hug your ears tightly while people chatter beside you. You are in your own world. I feel like you're in a coma, speak to me, I wish i knew you more than what your lips would dance to. Lies I would say, but my mind never told the the truth neither.

Satin, so smooth, I could feel her joy while her body grazes around your neck. The sweet aroma that you wear tickles my nostrils as I wished for a better word. I wonder how many more words can my mind make as I praise that dried soul that lingers inside your skin.

the boys

2010-08-04T22:03:00.006+10:00

I seem to be on this trend of extinction when it comes to choosing my boys. I either dwell among bicurious men and fucked-ups who are either murderers-in-the-making or horny motherfuckers who can't wait to fuck. 17 years has proved how unfortunate I am with the same-sex. Not that I'm saying that I'm pessimistic when it comes to internalizing stuffs like this, it just happens that whatever, or whoever I meet- there will always be that sense of 'fucked-upness' when it comes to choosing my beloved.

Description: Nerd.

Hobbies: Video-games, Poi, Magic, Computer.

Body type: Athletic

Met at : 1st day of school.

Corrupted. Mischievous. Mysterious. This guy was my first crush here. I guess his mysteriousness was the thing that captivated me. I like guys who play games. I went into this obsession. I assumed that our 'moments' together were meant to be. I felt like a puppet under my own control. It was weird. I felt fucked up. I was in love with someone who I rarely talk to. I was stupid and it all ended rather badly. I hate it when I get into with somebody that I eventually turn out to be obsessed with.

Description: Funny

Hobbies: Magic, Borat, Porn, Random.

Built: Semi-Athletic but HUGE. like talking about 6'2" huge!

Met at: the cinemas.

I've wrote about this one in the past too. He was bromance. He's weird. Or maybe I was weird. I felt like he was embarrassed to hang-out with me as soon as I came out to everybody. We spent a lot of time together that led me to assuming that he played on the same team too. Talk about endless midnight chit-chats on the phone, girl! I know. I know. Apparently, he is straight and he doesn't really mind me being gay. Well that's what he said. ..He was the first guy whom I've opened up with when it comes to the hey-i-like-you convo. I guess not everybody's lucky with their firsts.

Description: NA

Hobbies: Singing, Rugby League

Built: nuff said.

Met at: the gym

This one's tricky. I didn't really met him. It was more like I saw him at the gym checking me out. LOL. I know. NOT. But yea, he was looking at me which led me to checking him out which then led to me checking more of him out. I soon came to know him when I covered our school play in which he starred as the main-guy...who by the way..sings. I always go gaga for guys who wear glasses. I think thats the reason why I turned to like him. I shot his rugby game this afternoon too by the way. I don't know. I guess he'll just always be THAT guy.

Description: Smily face

Hobbies: Rugby League, Magic, Random.

Met at: Work

Built: Athletic

and last but not the least. him.

He goes to my school. Though we came to know more of each other from work 'cause we work together every Tuesdays. I feel bad sometimes 'cause I used to totally ignore him when he still had his long hair on. LOL. I know. How superficial of me. I love flirting with him. His mum is amazingly funny and I like how he invites me to watch his games and all that. I think he's straight though. BAHHHHHHHHHHH. Where have all the gay guys gone to?! I'm still close with this one. I haven't come out to him yet though. I don't know. I think he knows already anyway 'cause I'm pretty much sure everybody from school, well, at least most of the people in my grade knows I'm gay. fuck.

I did learn alot about myself though. One is that I like men who are beefy and two, I like men who knows how to do magic. If youre wondering why I'm doing this, its because of a line from 500 days of summer. "If you wanna get over someone, its best to turn him into literature." It wasn't exactly said that way though but yea. .. Hopefully, I'll hit on the right one soon.

pre-18 thoughts.

2010-08-02T15:24:00.002+10:00

I'm a weird kid. I hate open spaces. I hate them to a point that I'd shut everything around me just to feel safe. For some reason, I can't think well or do well when I'm somewhere wide or open.

Eighteen sounds like a big number. I can't believe that I'm turning eighteen in less than a week. Thinking about those days where I hoped and yearned for this day to come, it doesn't really feel any different. I still look the same, my hair is just a few inches longer and my complexion a few numbers darker.

I stopped thinking about men for a while. Resistance only showed itself futile over time though. I seem to be weak when it comes to men with their cheeky smiles and rock-hard biceps. I'm sick right now and it's just weird 'cause I always get sick before my birthday. I hate flexible straight men. You know what I mean. Straight men who flirt with you. They're weird. Why would they even think about..ugh..forget about it. I just feel fucked up 'cause I tend to break relationships with people once I start talking to them about what I feel or what they are.

I feel like I'm ready though. That I'm ready to be in a relationship again.To be love and be loved. (yes, you can stab with for my over-use of cliches) Despite my interest, it seems so hard for me to find one. Living in the suburb, living in a Neanderthal civilization filled with trees and do-it-yourself hand-books. It makes me wonder if Prince charming really is in here. Or somewhere, doing his homework right now or probably sleeping under his sheets.

I learned to be afraid over these months after coming out again to people whom i thought were friends.

Everything's all just fun and games until somebody comes out of the closet. I don't really mind though. Its good to know who your real friends are.

I just don't like the fact that people thinks like they have the right to know who you sleep with or who you're into (unless they're attracted to you.)

And after knowing that, they'd talk about it to other people like its some kind of disease. People seem to ignore you once they know the truth. Afraid perhaps? or clueless...

My pre-18 thoughts, I find, quite jumbled. A bit confusing and full of immaturity-I know days will get better. Well, after I get over the fact that I have to work for tonight while dead-sick from two nights of sleeping-over, a whole lot of sweaty boys fighting over a ball and a cute, grey-eyed bloke who I think is the one. AGAIN.

uncut

2010-07-21T00:44:00.000+10:00

Never deprive yourself of sex. I've done it. and yes, I do have to say it was one of the stupidest choices that I've ever done with my life. I don't know what the hell came to me to be honest. Actually, no, I do know what started all this. Blame too much exposure to Disney fairy tales but yes, this is all because of motherfucking Ariel and her gorgeous Prince charming, Eric. 'Cause I know you'd tap that shit even if he were 2-d.

Not getting some loving is like stopping yourself from eating food, going shopping and watching porn. It's scientifically proven to be suicidal and have been and will always be one of the reasons why there are so many weird old ladies with a lot of cats and fucktards. Yes, you got it mate. The reason why your teacher is being a bitch, or your dad is being a dick and your friend is being a douche is because they're not getting any.

As weird as it gets, just when you thought that old ladies that do own heaps of cats are just product of fiction & The Simpsons, they actually do exist in REAL LIFE. No shit!

But seriously though. What the hell's fucking wrong with me?! No sex? FOR 5 MONTHS?! I know. Call me mental but I guess we all go through this point in our life where we just stop from being our usual horny selves and start living our lives like any other retard out there that are not getting any ('cause there are actually some hot retards, like totally mentally retard here. I KNOW?! what the fuck right? no, im not being mental or still under colonial-mentality, they're really hot!)

Depriving yourself of sex wouldn't last long though. A year or two may be way too over-board but some people do get to experience that. Whatever you call this phenomenon, it happens-No matter how good-looking you are.

Life would have been so different a decade or two back then though. People weren't that open to this kind of stuff and everyone either did monogamy or porn. Maybe? So yea, just wanna tell you all that I will be breaking my personal promise that I won't be having sex with anyone anymore that I do not love 'cause it just seriously sounds elusive and fucked up.

& Besides, I've been giving away too many chances of being in bed with sexy latinos and big-dicked black dudes. Don't worry 'cause I will always do it safe and yes, I do have a lot of issues.

wrinkles and responsibilities

2010-07-17T17:00:00.000+10:00

For the past months, I came to learn that everyone is an island; a mass of land surrounded by water. I felt so alone and fragile. We all have our moments, I guess mine was just a bit more often this year. Life's been a bit hard, I know you could tell.

I'm turning eighteen soon.

These past weeks tormented every part of me, emotionally, I felt scared of growing up. How life's coming in too fast and just how clueless I am with the whole concept of aging and the right way of acting things out. I'm a twelve year old stuck in a seventeen's body. Physically stubborn, inertia drags me nowhere especially when it comes to going to the gym.

Things have changed though.

I went to this tertiary expo of different universities around Australia yesterday. It felt good to have people help you out. To talk to you about your dream, your passion, what makes you tick and move forward. I've learned a lot yesterday. I've met people who were keen on helping me out with my chosen career path. I felt so happy that buying myself a grande Green tea frappuccino and a pack of cigarettes was just the right thing to do for myself. WE all need to treat ourselves sometimes, this is one of them.

the expo was an hour and a half away from my suburb. And when you're talking about time in Australia, an hour and a half away is like going to Pangasinan from Paranaque; the lands are just too big here. The bush, still keeping some of mother's natures secrets. I went to the city alone after it. In the next four hours running along the streets and sitting in with strangers while watching people play their guitar and make balloon animals, I felt free.

I felt so free and light that I felt like I was able to do everything I wanted that day. I circled the main street while people-watching. Hot men and gay men are just everywhere, thank god for typical Aussie blokes! I've learned a lot about myself yesterday. Being able to stay at a bookstore for four straight hours is one of them.

Browsing through art books, I felt like crying. I don't know. It's weird. But every time I come pass something like photography and to read about people's life doing it, it makes me cry. It makes me feel like I was born for this. Like I was born for something big. Deep in me, I feel like I'm going to be an innovator, someone who could inspire people, make change, be the change.

I learned not to be afraid but to move forward. Growing up felt hopeful. Growing up excites me about the future. Of people I'm going to meet, shoot, love, and forget. Wrinkles didn't look that scary anymore. Growing up means you're learning and I can't wait to learn more things while doing what I love doing.

In this cut-throat industry, you have to be the best. Passion isn't enough and I will show them that Herbs here got what they want.

I want

2010-07-01T22:08:00.002+10:00

a big bottle of beer.
a pack of cigarettes.
my friends..around me...right now.
I want to feel warmth amidst winter.
I want to be home.

I want to be at peace.
I want to talk.
I want to cry.
I want someone who could listen- I'm sick crying by myself each night.
I want to run-run-away.
I want to fly-fly-away.
I want a hug.
a big.tight.warm.reassuring hug.

that everything will be alright.
that this is nothing.
I want to break.
I want to see people smiling.
I want ..

control.

2010-06-28T14:47:00.002+10:00

i was THIS close. THIS close to letting go of my promise. and then i thought, breaking this wouldn't disappoint anyone, breaking this...... breaking this one promise that I've told to myself before moving here would equate to nothing besides disappointing myself.

I tell you, it's pretty hard to know the difference between your thoughts and what you feel sometime. I guess its always mixed up, isn't it?

its always better to act upon impulse. Like having one big-ass cock infront of you, now you wouldn't say no to that now would you? It's like saying no to Jesus when he offers you eternal happiness and salvation. Okay, maybe there's a little bit of exaggeration on that part-its more of a 9-minute sense of happiness to tell you the truth. Not that we all don't know that.

But yes, i felt like an infidel saying no to god's greatest pleasures-kneeling down on a bus-stop at quarter pass one in the morning. I guess you might be thinking, what made you say no, "what made you say no you stupid sonavabetch?!"

Maybe I knew better, or that's what I thought. Hormones are motherfuckers. Literally. Not that I'm saying that I just fucked my mum to compensate this hunger-unless you have an Oedipus complex-but let's not get too serious here. Hormones are so capable of mind-fucking innocent bystanders to a point that you'd see people fucking people in the middle of the streets in Japan. Yes, hormones-21st century's biggest threat. The next thing people will want to watch out for.

To be honest, it was hard. No pun. It was so hard to say no because I've been willingly abstinent for 4 months. I guess I still won in the end thinking that this whole waiting game will bring in something far more better than giving someone a blowjob in public. Maybe. Time will tell.

late night

2010-06-22T09:05:00.003+10:00

You're my home now. I feel..at peace when I'm with you. I love the way your voice caresses my ears each night. Your touch, I yearn. Your love, I wish for.

I wish you knew that I felt this way each night we go late night on damp earphones. I'm starting to like you more but I'm afraid that history might just repeat itself again. Remember that episode we had when I came out to you and told you I was starting to like you? It was tragic. WE didn't talk for a month, you barely cared at school nor seemed to notice my existence despite sitting next to you at lunch-I felt like a ghost, I don't want to be your ghost
.
It hurts me to think this way. How sometimes, going through a wall with infinite determination will soon break this wall between us. I don't know why I'm still doing this while deep in head lies consequences of my actions-I reckon losing to you once is enough, but you're just too beautiful.

-----

Remember Bromance? Yes, him. That bloke I talk to each night. Apparently, straight guys do talk with other men on endless nights sometime. Yes, it's beyond borderline gay but then again, we find happiness in each other. I don't think that could be a problem as long as this thing we have is just ours.

I'd like to ask him why he treats me so different at school. And when we're alone, he'd be the same guy that I've been talking to the night before-are you fucking bipolar, mate?

He just came back to me again after a month, it was weird. He talked like nothing ever happened.

---

Have you ever felt that twitch in your heart when you're with someone? It was my first time feeling it when he asked me to walk with him a week ago. Yes, he's walking now. He didn't seem to miss his crutches too.

He would smile every now and then while he listens to me. We would go around school just for the heck of it while the rest of the boys are playing soccer-his warmth made me live through winter. Wednesdays are always special. Some days, he'd act like I'm a ghost again. I wonder if he could still see my heart on my sleeve, I'm afraid it'll just get withered by the sun.

I'm hopeful though, even if it takes a bottle of tequila just to get him to his senses.

We are planning on having a movie marathon together when his folks are out on the holidays. "It'd be great so we could turn the volume up," he smiled. I reckon, looking cheeky while eating my roll. Maybe, I'd get enough courage again to tell him what I feel, I don't know. This may sound suicidal, but staying with him more knowing that I'm bound for nothing hurts me more. I wish controlling what you feel is as easy as changing the exposure on my camera. sigh.

Listen

Breaking the rule

2010-06-12T12:07:00.003+10:00

Three months and counting-do you have any idea how long its been since I had a legitimate orgasm?

Yes, I know, maybe a lot of you don't give a fuck. But seriously. Girl, I know what you've going through and yes, you are not alone. Maraming tigang na kagaya natin sa mundo.

Count in those going through involuntary and voluntary abstinence. I reckon we could all come together and fuck ourselves 'till god knows when notwithstanding geographical problems and sexual preference.

Maybe the idea of having my first sex overseas with someone I really love is farfetch, but who wouldn't think about that if you're a hopeless romantic trap in a world of technology and quickies. I've rejected a number of men since I got here for that reason. It's not the sex that I'm after for-I want your love, I want your bad romance. *tang ina, ang korni*

Blame the paranoia. Sex is a necessity not an addiction.

I don't know but it's just different when you're doing it with someone you really really like rather than just some hot bloke you met while cruising around the city. In a way I feel like gay sex makes most of us like WOMEN-we emotionally connect ourselves with the person we're having sex with-in simplicity it means we enjoy it better when we're doing it with someone we love. It's just a theory, no need to bash me.

I've thought about buying a dildo to remedy the hunger, but then I'm not THAT desperate. I'm only seventeen and I don't need the rush to fuck around with everyone. Though, in times of great depression and drought-we do need someone to praise us and make us feel like we're loved. It's all what I'm after for anyway.

I've just had enough of the waiting, really. It's time to have fun!

'cause we all get fucked at some point

2010-06-01T22:05:00.003+10:00

If you're assuming that this post would talk about my recent encounter with this hot bloke from Thompson beach and how we had awesome painful beach-sex on its sandy shores, it's a no.

and no, i haven't had sex with anyone YET and yes, I'm technically a virgin now for all I know.

Going back to our main topic, it's something about work again. No, it's nothing about my boss getting worse or something close to that but I've just had this realization of the possibility of getting more work hours from my two jobs - yes, you heard me right, i have two jobs.

So aside from working at the Chinese Restaurant three blocks away from my crib, I have another one at this American Barbecue Restaurant four kilometres away. I just didn't had the time to tell you all about it 'cause I got both jobs the same week. So let's break it down with its PROs and CONs.

Route:
ABR - Bus/Car (I usually get the car though 'cause my step-dad's pretty much at home already before I go to work.)
CR - Walk

Rate:
ABR - 13 something bucks per hour
CR - 9 going on 11 after my first month/hour

Environment:
ABR - MASSIVE AS.
CR - Pretty small so its quite obvious that its a lot easier to manage.

Workmates:
ABR - Filipinos (Mum's old friends) and all the other staff are friendly.
CR - I love my boss. He gives like 20% discount on everything. Even the bottled drinks only costs me a dollar. Like, when you look at it- it's a lot cheaper than the shops!

Work-days:
ABR - Monday and Tuesdays.
CR - Fridays and Saturdays.

How I'm doing:
ABR - I ALWAYS FUCKING FORGET WHAT TO DO.
CR - I'm always on a roll!

Aside from that, I still have school, family, and friends to hang out with. Well, that's obvious.

So maybe it was a huge mistake. Maybe, maybe not? It did help me on trying not to get bored and depressed but yea, If ever i'll do need to cut one at some point-which would it be-'cause I know that's bound to happen.

Oh enlightened ones, I need thy guidance!

What's been up buttercup

2010-05-23T18:40:00.001+10:00

As more days pass by, the more I feel like I’m becoming a driftwood-controlled by an unseen mover, confused, lost, alone. I know what you’re thinking, “god, has he gone through heartbreak again? Go on drama boy, cry your heart out!” You’d mock.

Naw, I had enough of that shit.

This time it’s different. I’ve realized one thing while I spend winter freezing nights hugging my two pillows tight. The sweet embrace they give, the sweet aroma of sandalwood seeping across my room. My love letters’ inevitable fate to rot seemed to overkill my theory. They do rot, and sometimes, they even smell good with salty tears and sore eyes.

Fair dinkum, I do miss falling in love, and this is where my irrelevant intro disappears from the context.

Finding my first job was easy. Well no. I think I just had a good stroke of luck that day. Well I got it after the chick next-door introduced me to her manager after I told her how I’ve been looking for a job since I got here. Okay, so maybe there’s a little bit of exaggeration on my part, but you get my drift, right? Right.

If there’s one thing I learned about giving a good impression, being a dick and telling your boss that it’ll only take you a week to get everything up in your brain is not a good thing. Apparently, that’s how your little friend here did it, and yes, I was fucked. ‘Cause as soon as you show him how ridiculous you are and how you tend to phase-out every now and then while in the middle of work, your boss is bound to tell you something. Well, my Chinese boss that is.

“Me told you you cunnot git this in one week. Maybee tree week or too week but not one week.”

Okay, he won. I know my weakness and I definitely don’t need her halitosic daughter to point that out every second. Nonetheless, I find this job quite awesome. My clothes would exhale honey after work and that is more than what I’ve bargained for. Talk about free eu de toilette! But seriously, I find the smell of Chinese (food) very pleasing.

Living in three countries at the same time is hard though. Weekend mornings are usually spent watching rented-movies with my mum and cooking Filipino breakfast with her, the afternoon’s spent at the gym around white guys and at night, around three hard-to-understand Chinese chefs who never really talked English unless they were talking to me-which is by the way-unlikely.

So that’s how I’ve been doing down-under. Apparently, still breathing, still bitching, still me.

Bromance

2010-05-07T01:22:00.000+10:00

I came to join a friend of mine to watch Iron Man 2 last weekend. Not knowing his friends, I went to meet him at the burger shack near the movie house. With my beanie on and my plunging v-neck going against me from the sheer cold of Autumn, a voice suddenly called out my name from outside the shack. It was not my friend, but it was HIM.
He sat on his chair looking at me with a smile plastered on his face, "come over here mate!" I followed. I sat next to him saying my usual greetings. Apparently, asking someone how they're going is a sign of respect here. He greeted back.
One of those things that I find awkward the most is when you've been talking to someone for quite awhile now and still have no idea of what their name. is This is what happened to us. I have to know it sooner or later.

"So what's your name, bud?"

"Cameron. I'm in your English Class."

I knew he was on my English but I never really did bother to know anybody else in any of my classes unless they're my seat-mate.Aside from that, he's a cripple. With his left foot ligaments all cut off 6 weeks ago, he's been using crutches for over a month now.

After the small talk, all the guys went in to eat with us and as soon as they were done, the movies was finally rolling.

I got home as soon as my parents picked me up that night. One of those things that I really love about moving here is finally having that sense of family that I've never had while growing up. I was always moving in with different people back then that I almost forgot about the whole idea of family and how you look after one another and all that. I guess its all but blessings in disguise eh?

Going back to my post. As soon as I got back, I saw a friend request on my facebook account and found him waiting for my acceptance. I accepted it and tried to do some small-talkin' just to waste my time again. But this time it felt different, we spent the rest of the night talking... and the next day...and the next day...and the next day...until now.

Each night he'd go online on facebook and talk to me about every random thing that we could think of. We've even decided on getting married soon and adopting a pug which we'll be naming Bruno. Aside from that, we've also started to get to know each other in a way that other people wouldn't even know about us. I made him laugh, and he made me happy. We were on a compromise. An unspoken bromance unfolding each night in front of flat screens and over keyboards-we were like lovers.

Hun showing off his magic awhile ago.

Soon after that, Facebook wasn't able to hold our chats anymore and I asked him if he could download Yahoo Messenger even though mostly everyone here uses MSN. He didn't mind, he had it downloaded. After that, he wouldn't go on his facebook anymore but he'd just be on YM to talk to me. Exchanging pictures, webcamming, lol-ing, and this delusional world that we're both living in was something that we just grew accustomed to over time.

At school I would notice him looking at me most of the time. He would smile and I would always smile back. Sometimes, I'd try and borrow his crutches to just crutch around school and make him laugh. We were both our source of entertainment, at school we'd hang out and as soon as we get home, we'd talk.

I can't be bothered to talk about what's this thing between us. Maybe he's just looking for a good friend. Someone to talk to and enjoy time with. Most of the time I'd ask him if he'll ever get sick of me and his reply would always be the same. We complimented each other in ways that I would've never imagined. He towered me but I protected him at the same time. He's a magician, I'm a psychic. He's straight and I'm gay. We're mates and I don't want to invest any of my feelings for him.

I'm scared but at the same time composed. I'd like to wait and see where this goes. I can just feel the universe conspiring for us. The nights we spent together, the chairs we've shared talking to each other. Bromance is one thing but Love? love is just fucked up.

Just too much for a kid like me to talk about at this age.

Bulking up

2010-04-07T01:34:00.005+10:00

It's been almost a month now; the red dirt, my weird accent, and my unconditional and irrevocable indescribable feeling for Joe.

Aside from the obvious monthsary that I'll be having with good 'ol Australia, today I reckon the weekly gardening is now slowly taking its place somewhere into my biceps while learning household tools like the socket spanner, a weekly routine. My daily attempt to ensnare Joe on the other hand is slowly-I assume-getting into that phase of "love reasoning."

Yes, Love reasoning. It's one of those compound words I make up and use eventually after dead-reckoning my way out of the barren streets on my way to school. Well, based on theory, "love reasoning" is when you're all done feeling infatuation and you're all but left to decide if you're still going to tell this person what you feel about him.

We all know that there's a big chance that my little plan here could turn out suicidal. Like Hitler shooting himself and Bob Marley smoking weed, I soon came to an epiphany while moving the lawn this morning that telling him what I feel is a big no-no. It's like telling your mom you love her, it all goes without saying.

Now, focusing on my latest drama without the whole love scene kicking in every two minutes, I'm currently getting an RSA which basically means that I'll be able to sell and serve beer at bars, cafes, and clubs.

On a more exciting note, I've just got myself into gym. Though I haven't totally started weighting lifts yet nor have I talked to my Pppppersonal trainer, I've just finished flirting with my consultant and how we might play Halo together sometime with his XBOX console...

though I'm quite sure the flirting wasn't totally part of his job description, It's still a plus when it comes to customer support :-p

presenting my im-ready-for-gym-attire. please do refrain from staring at my bulge, it's just really hard to hide it when you're gifted...not.

Buses and trains

2010-03-28T23:09:00.001+10:00

Wiping off the dishes after dinner time is the only time me and my mom gets to have a decent talk in a day.

You would usually see us yelling at each other in the morning or at lunch-which is the same reason why we can't EVER work at the same company. On awful days where we can't just stop being in each others nerves-after an awful rumbling and a few slams on the door-acting like nothing ever happened beforehand is something that we've just perfected over the past three weeks of us finally being together.

Despite the countless nights we've shared together talking about our family's drama & what Lady Gaga was wearing in her new video "Telephone," this night has got to be the number one on my top-ten list of Things-I-learned-from-my-mom-while-we-were-doing-dishes chronicles.

I've asked her, what a lot of people I reckon has a lot of problems with:

"Ma, before this disappears out of the hundred of questions I want to ask you about life, I'd like to know something about love.."

"Ano naman yun?"

"How do you make a relationship last?"

"What do you mean?"

"How do you make a relationship last longer? Like to what you and Uncle Jim have, you've been together for more than a decade now. How did you do it?"

"You have to learn this one yourself."

"Any tips?"

"A lot of understanding that's for sure. It's a game of trial and error, anak. You'll eventually learn the secret once you're done going through to a lot of relationships like me. Eventually, you'll just get tired of everything and say 'Fuck this! I wanna get married.'"

"But how? Like, what do you do? Dating each other is given, hanging out and all that, but what do you talk about after that? Wouldn't you just get bored with each other eventually?"

"You'll know what I mean, anak. We all go through life in different phases, teaching you what I've learned won't necessarily mean that you'll be doing the same thing. It's useless."

"You're right. You know what? That song "Buses and Train?" This moment just goes perfectly with that song. I reckon it goes like "Hey Mom, why didn't you tell me, why didn't you teach me a thing or two?"

she sang with me as we got all the dishes clean and dry.

"I want you to learn things like this by yourself. Besides, I wouldn't want to take the fun away now, would I?" she smiled.

as I finished all the dishes that needed to be returned in the cupboards, I went next to her, kissed her and told her how thankful I am of having her as my mom.

At first I thought asking her about this would really help me a lot with my on-going streak of failing relationships. It did clarify a few things though, like on how its impossible for me to learn anything about life from her.

On the bright side of things, it makes me happy how confident my mom is with me when it comes to life's lessons.

After getting my glass of milk from the fridge and saying goodnight to her, she stopped doing her job and turned around to smile and say;

"Just be strong, anak. Just be strong."

I smiled in return, "Thank you Ma. I love you."

blue eyes pt. 2 : the walk

2010-03-19T20:51:00.002+10:00

"Is anyone of you guys going to the shops later?" an oppurtunity presents itself.

"What're you goin' to do there?" I asked, out of curiosity.

"Will need to get something done at work."

"Oh, cool! I walk to the shops everyday, wanna come along?" LIE. I take the bus everyday.

"Cool, well I guess we'll see each other later."

"Uh. what's your next class? Will just get your number so I'd know where to find you" AHA! FINALLY! WHOOO.

types in his number and saves it. "See you later, mate!"

I'm glad my tarot reading worked last night. You see, I've asked the cards if we'll ever have a moment together. Yes, in utter desperation to spend some time with this guy-cards has just got to be needed.

So we did meet after class. He was at his Physics Class and I was at film. With his 8 kilo bagpack filled with books, a laptop and his lunch box-we walked out the school from the school gym after giving his house keys to his step-sister.

From there on, we talked, laughed and made jokes about English and how he hates it, that he thinks words like knot, dough, and some other words with silent letters are stupid. We also talked about my inability to balance, my fucked up right ear-drum, his 3.1 Terabyte computer, his magic tricks, poi dancing, and unlimited softwares and heaps of games kept in his room. It was just pure bliss as I've only imagine having this moment with him yesterday. See people, dreams do come true.

the beef nugget doing poi. *faints*

And as we walked one street from another, time flew by with us in perfect harmony. He smiled, "isn't it better when you're with someone walking to the mall than doing this all by yourself every day?" , "It does. Thank god you're heading to the mall too 'cause I'll be pretty much spending my day dragging this heavy-ass bag to the bus stop again." He laughed, "no worries, mate" as I felt a tiny wink on the edges of his eye.

Without the dragging effect of time on our shoulder, we finally stood infront of the computer store where he worked. "So are you going to be joining us for the movies later?" he asked, "Yeah, will you be coming?", "Cool. I'll be there."

and just like that, we parted ways with him saying "See you later"

blue eyes

2010-03-18T23:25:00.002+10:00

I first saw him among this pool of people sitting by the grasslands at morning tea. With piercing blue eyes, blonde silver hair, red pink lips, a cute cheeky smile, and bulging biceps...it was..that moment..right there...where in my mind, silently, i've announced to the whole world how the whole search for prince charming is over. Yes girls, "the search is over."

Seeing him and sitting infront of him was in nowhere tantamount to the countless half-naked men I've seen running around the beach carrying their surfboards. He was just so addicting to look at. It was hard trying to control myself from looking at him. With cheeks burning and lips too kissable to waste, eating my sandwich was just too hard to do.

I tried to digress, but it was in any way inevitable.

With quivering lips and quirky eyes, I've noticed how he looks at me everytime I look at someone else besides him. Maybe I'm just too obvious for me to notice. Maybe. Or maybe, in my personal universe filled with unicorns and rid of homophobes, he likes me too.

I've heard from his friends that he's gay. Though asking him about it would just be offensive, I can't think of any better way of talking to him about wanting to go out with him. Shit.

To that, I'll wait and see.

butterfly effect

2010-03-13T03:29:00.001+10:00

Moving here gave me this inevitable reestablishment of my life. In a way, I went back into my closet, I got back to studying Calcullus and English Grammar (which I really freakin' need) and apparently had to go back to High school for Grade 12.

I need to adapt, change my acts, learn how to do stuffs around the house, know about the value of money, do gardening, cook dinner, & drive. The future looks like a blank sheet right now with merely visible dots to guide me along the way, have I never been into a situation like this. And yes, anxiety is an obvious reaction.

So far, so good. The first week of staying here has been awfully tiring, sad, and as per usual, a roller coaster of emotion. Missing the Philippines and its cuisines does indeed give off a big blow once you get overseas. I miss Sinigang, Tilapia, the usual commercials, Tagalog, my friends, my family. Its only until tonight then I realized how I miss everyone & how I should've in any way gave them a better goodbye.

On how I should've hugged them a little bit longer or onto how I tried feeling indifferent while leaving them. It was just weird when I had to spend my despedidas with my friend. My emotions seem so blah. I felt like this insensitive bastard unaware of my leave. Maybe my mind was already coping with it by the time I got that one-way ticket coming here. Maybe, so that I wouldn't go through so much pain again, a rush of hormones just suddenly went rushing across my veins just to make the whole experience surprisingly surreal.

Whatever this phenomenon is, its fucked up.

I just find it entirely ridiculous how un-awesomed I am with Australia. The culture, the people, the city, the life. I was sleeping on the car once I got down the airport despite spending the whole 12 hours sleeping on the plane. Jetlagging is something that I'm fairly new at and sleeping has been one of my habits since Saturday. The weather, the wind, the men. .... is just blah.

I wonder whats wrong with me. Why do I feel so indifferent about all of these? Or maybe I'm just built for adapting. Like all of us, we adapt at a different rate as to how we all get to learn a place's accent. Whatever shit this is that I've been going through-I just want to feel human again.

Just please.

how do i say this

2010-03-10T21:35:00.006+10:00

meat

2010-02-21T09:05:00.000+10:00

the bell rings and you run. you run with armpits burning. your feet, trembling from its wake ran as fast as it can while the meat market slowly opens for it cause. your chest begins to crumble-pumping too hard, catching its breath-immediately pausing everything that it held. tug. tug. your heart cries for help. tug. tug. you scream your mouth, "HELP!"

you wonder, if ever all of this came to its worth. tongue-tied lips, your eyes defeat. this whole new cast of death, calls forth your neck-deep threat. whatever that has got you into this, there is no way turning back, and there is only one big old track. you jump, you fall, subconsciously calling for its toll. must you keep on doing this deed or can you just fall and call it defeat?

tick. tock. the clock never stop. sighting your wrist while the pendulum speak, you wonder and wander with long-streaking steps. like your mom did once say, on an autumn night-winged day, must you never taste meat on a burnt tongue and cheek, you may only seek help when your soul calls dear death.

but you've thought. it has to stop. everything will stop. eventually, after each step. though with every call and teeth, and while your bottom cheek's bleed-stop young-blood, stop. You're a jail-bait skinned head. will you ever learn from the creed? will you ever shed your deed? will you ever bid farewell, or must it all come to its end?

i grew helpless with days' midnight stairs, like an old crow and a crooked bow, delivering one's death, please God, dear, help!

on a final note's text on the late Sunday's bed, may you come to your senses before the young boy nears death.

cinderblock

2010-02-19T06:41:00.000+10:00

I've stared at this blank page for more than 3 weeks now. My eyes, tired from clenching itself grew bloodshot from endless nights worth of staring games. You see, creativity has its season; like strawberry, pineapple, and my irrevocable love of spending my late hours blogging.

Maybe this has got something to do with me leaving. I guess it is the moving thing, 'cause its more possibly the reason for my blogging hiatus than my recent nondisclosure break-up, my endless despedida dramas from different group of friends & my inability to hook-up with anyone since February. Yes, its definitely the moving-out thing.

Actually, moving is already something that I'm very used to besides watching porn. I've done it more often than going to Malate and the usual moving made me quite built for burning bridges, especially with those whom you just can't wait to leave soon.

I guess I've never made much of a move except when I moved here from the province to study in a University. Moving from city to city was endurable but this country to the land down under? now that's a different story. Just imagine it, the culture, the time difference, the people, the language, it's more than the usual get-away.

Change can really spark up our lives in varying dramatic levels. From the usual drama to the major obligations you'll be having yourself into once you move somewhere else that has greener grass, cleaner streets & bigger dicks, I wonder what else Brisbane has to offer.

What else can I say when I've just spent 4 hours of my morning forcing myself to write? An unending flow of blahs and irrational whining suited for dirty old maids. And now, I sleep for there are only 8 days left in Manila and I'm off!

salad days.

2010-02-09T02:53:00.003+10:00

full-step clutch, clutch slowly shifting to working-level, gas, full-step clutch, shift gear to number two, let go of clutch, gas...

He was looking at my steps like a dance instructor. With precise prediction of how I'm going to panic with every pedestrian, dog, tricycle & taxi driver crossing, changing lanes & overtaking-we would've been dead by now if it weren't for his handy emergency brake.

Driving has taught me of things that I didn't know I was capable of. Two of them was talking to dogs and my fast pick-up learning the shift-stick. I guess it just came to me at a subliminal level that shift-sticking is indeed my calling besides taking pictures and sucking dick. Yes, I know you wanted to hear that line from me you dirty bastard.

But along those lines of yellow & white, my mind still manages to be a floater despite the humps & my instructor yelling break every time something out of the blue pops out in-front of me. "Sir, nagdridrive ka. Nakikinig ka ba sa mga sinasabi ko o nakatingin ka lang sa kawalan?"

To tell him the truth, I was really feeling elated when I had these hands 10:10 on that steering wheel. It were as if I was at peace with the car, like, you know, we're meant to be and all? Okay, maybe not, but the whole experience was awesome! The engine roars, the full stops, the high-fives, and the...shift-stick..that feeling of getting that big-ass-car roll that street like you own the whole alley was just too priceless that I had to control my bladder for the whole three hours learning the basics! Dawg, talk about dedication.

along busy streets and small villages, curving along tight spots and beneath highways, I've also learned why a lot of people hate jeepney drivers, taxi drivers, pedicabs, and random pedestrians for all the obvious reasons and why everyone in this country should start enrolling themselves to driving school or at least learn how to drive.

do you have any idea how hard it is to just go for a full stop without any warning?

but in the end of the day, aside from all the kicking, steering and swearing. Driving has helped me become a better person, especially on the street. Yes, bitches, megaknown.

s&l

2010-01-25T05:49:00.001+10:00

in theory, men are all masochists. stubborn and hopeful in spite of countless heartaches, deaths, bridge-burning, and suicide attempts. hope still springs eternal.

its the limitless possibilities that can be brought to everyone that makes all of this, plausible. through flying & falling and gashes on elbows & knees, men have discovered that flying, swimming, cycling, biting & bare-backing has its pros & cons.

we learn from failing. we learn from rejection. we learn from anything that moves us backwards, like getting bitten in a game of Snakes & Ladders ; it has taught us that being clumsy, stupid, ignorant, selfish, stubborn and jealous can lead anyone to their own downfall.

but why do we always do these things that we obviously know of to break us? have we already grown accustomed to it that we subconsciously redo these things in just pure bliss? or are we all just programmed for trial & error?

whatever it is, we all know its worth it without having any idea of what the future has in store for us. that, on stubborn nights & lazy Tuesdays, we still eat our heart out for hope. that whatever we're doing right now, whatever we're fighting for, there will always be constant change-either breaking or making a lost deal, or to just simply renew itself. its amazing how much the human body can cope with, no?

a lot of people forget about the fact that we're all part of a community, that despite of our unique traits & sense of individuality, we're still connected like an orchestra. a domino effect. an ebbing wave. a spider web. or to put it more simple-a system we all call, LIFE.

but deep in my heart, a question still resounds, what happened to hopeless romantics? idealists? pro-war activists? are they all part of a dying breed? has everyone slowly drifted to shallow shores because of the massive media brain-wash?

it still amazes me how a lot of people can live life on shallow waters. stuck on sand and crab bites, i wonder if there will ever come a time where everyone's progressive with everything around them? to learn that resistance from change is futile, that everything abstract is subjective.....

and life.is. well.of course. life.

or as the french say it, c'est la vie.

on delusional winners.

2010-01-22T05:57:00.004+10:00

*gulp* you stood in front of everyone worried. you felt dizzy with the smell of new paint under your feet, the crowd starts to cheer on you but your ears suddenly felt deaf from noise nor beat. help me Lord, help me, you prayed. Lets see where your lord gets you now.

*gulp* you sat there with instilled power. capable of manipulating almost everyone up that pedestal, you drank a mouthful of water just to get your palette sweaty. every time you make a sound, everyone hushes. you move your lips, you make someone else feel nauseous. feeling all important with the great responsibility you hold near, you're still the douchebag everyone knows in the end of the day.

*gulp* you practiced your pronunciations a week before the game. your lines, etched in your brain like cinder-block suddenly didn't work. What? this is not my final question. Shit. You tried to fake a smile as you hear each sweet word from her that slowly leaded to your defeat. your feet, shaking from the conspiracy has grown weak from despair. infront of everyone, you've fallen like Rome in a snap.

and *gulp* 'cause you knew you did a great job. with words vomitting out of your system, bearing no logic but intertwined with tones of control and success, you went off with a smile on your face. Sure that you didn't win, sure that you've been a dim.

there's always something about people who join pageants that make them models to their society. its either you're this low self-esteem goodlooking chick, the rich douchebag who owns a ferrari, a sleazy slut who always had a bag full of tricks, or the nosy bitch who always fell for absurdity. we've all got our choices, and besides, just like what that rip-off book said we're all born winners anyway, right? Right.

*don't steal my shit, foo'*

12:25 AM

2010-01-21T04:38:00.001+10:00

finally. the long wait is over.

at exactly 12:25 am today. I got this from the mail:

"On 20 January 2010 a decision was made to grant the following applicant's visa"

the feeling was just too priceless. I was just all alone in the living room yelling OMG. Turning all the lights while failing on waking up everybody in the house, I went on calling my mom instead.

"Mom, I finally got the visa! I can't wait to be home soon."

"Thank God. I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Mom."

and that moment right there, was the best five minutes of my life.

.anatomy

2010-01-20T05:41:00.003+10:00

there were no more introductions. callow as I were, I slid pass through his bedroom like a serpent. thirsty, and mindless, our lips met endlessly along each hollow wave that seems to engulf each impetus.

along the tip of my ears which he fondled, intimation still disburses along his system, mmm. your lips. i love how soft they are, he breathed. Too swamped by his foreplay. I have grown deeply into his caress. i was speechless.

his hands, manipulating every delicate part of my body, never failed to twitch my sensation. i grew haywire with each passing coma. my body felt like giving in, but my conscious whispered for control.

fidgety from his manner, my hands nuzzled on his head, slowly pulling it down to his superior, he fell mute and blinded in lust, he grazed down my chest with grace, his eyes, seductively pacifying my lips to its slumber, this warm, breathless feeling suddenly came to life beneath me.

cussing under breathless teeth, his lips was as gentle as the wind. i prayed for command with each breathless gasp that he gave me, i was hopeless.

Fuck me, fuck me hard, i echoed and with perfect momentum, he stood up with a grinning face and with satisfied eyes. with pleasure.

i smiled back at him while i prepared myself for the real action. whipping some latex from his cabinet, he bit its tip and slowly got the hollow shield down to its knight, ready?

with bitten lips and sweaty skin, he slid through me gently. I moaned with control as he maturely progresses with each pump, his hands, supporting my legs held it tighter with each passing second. bobbling with excitement, power, and control, he praised himself with each thrust and sweat. fuck, ahhh...fuck, yeah!

the wind, that came through the room was futile from the heat that exuded from our body. for a second, my mind went conscious from the euphoria. three minutes have passed, shit, i think im going to cum soon.

slow down, cowboy. i didn't want it to end yet, my system grew hungry for more, i didn't feel like getting sober yet. but then, the predictable happened, he came.

HOLY SHIT, he exclaimed with sweat raining down my ankle. Panting by the pressure while he was still busy catching his own breath, he still managed to repeat his early deed with a more sensual touch and a playful tongue.

and soon there after,

I came and he conquered.

--------------------------------------------------------
i was still disappointed with his stamina in the end. despite having those soft lips and
undeniably amazing skills, he only lasted for three minutes.

at first i didn't know that things like this really happen. an urban legend, i assumed.
one-minute man? i laughed. at least this one was longer. three minutes to be exact.

sigh.

tumbleweed.

2010-01-18T05:00:00.004+10:00

as I count down days of staring at myself grow acne and shed skin, I've then realized how this all feels like de ja vu. In retrospect, I was caught bumming this same time last year when I first decided that meeting people from the blogging world was actually..productive. But this time, I'm just being monotonous.

by DeBally

I wish I could tell my mom how sick I am of making this spontaneous pauses in my life. How deeply scarred I feel like with every soul I leave, and how I slowly learn from experience that this is the way life works. People come and go

Then someone in the back of my head asked me this morning, "how do you see yourself 10 years from now?" smiling, he was. Wondering how I'll use my intuition, I just stood there, blowing my last kiss from nicotine while saying "nothing."

I wish I could just let it all out tonight. To hear myself cry with anguish. to see myself drown in my own tears, to feel myself punch endlessly on air and to watch myself stand up and pretend like nothing ever happened. With moments like those, on independent streaks of darkness & solitude-I bear witness to who I try not to be-weak and fragile-like everyone trapped in a lion's mask.

it kills me to see myself dependent to something entirely inconsistent. I'd damn the gods for putting on so much responsibility for an old soul like me, but I wouldn't blame them in the end-they're just helping me be strong for everything that lies as blank as this ahead.

but then it struck me, aren't we all just blank postcards sent by the wind? Clueless and lucky some of us are, damned and wet some others will be. How this game called Life would either blind you of seeing things on a straight line while you yourself know how the wind changes course in a snap.

spontaneity has its calling, but the fool always had his plans with him. Tuck in bedsheets and old photographs, I wonder where this old wind will bring me now.

.pause

2010-01-15T04:21:00.001+10:00

Once again, stuck in this road of unknown potential & complete darkness-I've come across this sign saying "A1 Driving School." Yes bitches, you got it right-I'm enrolling to a driving school.

You see, I've never ever seen nor imagine myself drive a car before. I may have the curiosity to drive an 18-wheeler truck just to get myself hooked-up with those bears from South Louisiana but driving a car by myself? Fuck no.

Just the thought of it is like making myself eat poison. It's suicide.

Cars around me, the highway, ramps, the chaotic roads of Manila, it's the perfect recipe for disaster. Maybe we've all gone through this point when it comes to internalizing the whole idea of driving a car across the busy streets of Manila, but I still can't help it but over-react when I'm once again entrusted with another responsibility of making streets safe &....well, safe.

It's like the first day of college. You get excited by the mere fact of meeting new people again that you end up spoiling all the fun by expecting too much. Okay, maybe that whole metaphor sucks but hey! I'll be driving a car soon and I'm excited as shit.

Ooooh. Just imagine it, you don't need a motel for some kinky sexy time anymore!

Just updating this like how its supposed to roll, like a journal.

With all you expert drivers out there, do share your first experience, how you learned to drive and all that.

the game.

2010-01-11T02:19:00.000+10:00

we need to learn on how to detach ourselves to see the big picture

an epiphany I got while standing by the ledge at BED one night, its like one of those Buddhist proverbs you hear where you have to let go of whats happening around you to really see what's happening. Okay, that's bullshit. Buddhism or just plain Herbism, I'm quite sure it still makes awful sense, right?

that rush of euphoria in your veins, that bliss your heart feels while this sick beat manipulated every part of your body, it's still nowhere near that feeling of having someone's lips clipped with your own. It was that same night this repressed feeling came back to me. I felt like this fat thirteen year-old kid again who was rejected by his hot sixteen year-old crush.

i wasn't rejected that night, it just really wasn't MY night either. Well, that's how my best-friend tried to comfort me while I asked her endlessly if she thinks I'm fugly.. I've wondered if there was anything wrong with me, if my breath stinks, or if there's something wrong with the way I dress, the way I move my lips, or even the way I blow this fume of nicotine out of my system.

walking around, smiling at people I've met, introduced to, and slept with. They were all familiar, and getting stuck into one of their webs again is something that I didn't want to happen. You seriously just can't let these people talk about you like the bar whore or something. Right? Passed around like some blow-up doll bought at some sex shop. (bitterness eh no? HAHA)

back to what I was saying, I felt really bad about myself when I didn't get to score that night. To think that I was in a room full of alcohol and cute and not too old men. Depressed would be like over-stating the whole scenario, but I just wasn't that type who would smile at men that night either. Maybe I exuded this negative aura about the room? i was analyzing the problem way too much.

and so i left early, got menthol up my mouth and smoked it like it was the best fucking cigarette in the world.

tonight might not be my night, but i will soon get my mojo back. and malate, oh malate, be ready!

lessons that night:

that acting like the fish all the time wasn't healthy nor progressive. that if you find someone interesting, you should have the balls to talk to him. that no one is ugly, no matter how out-dated his green striped yellow cardigan is (he's actually cute when he's topless), that everyone looked good and perfect when you're wasted and that some things, as usual, are easier said than done.

Celibacy

2009-12-31T01:49:00.004+10:00

Pasensya na sa napakaraming run-on sentence. Galit lang talaga.

I think I made the right choice of going to BED before going to Laoag 4 days ago. People here are fucking lame. Well, not all of them. Its just that, most of them are somewhat stuck in this prehistoric time where bisexuals are still those men who looks like men but only like men, and the usual, trannies being called gay.

Its inevitable. A lot of the people in this country still thinks that way. So. Fuck this.

Drinking at their local bars while procrastinating on my plates for school for the past four days of staying here, I'd still get asked by women and trannies around here if I wanna go with them or lets just say, make Boom boom pow for a night.

Even trannies have weak gaydars around here! WTF.

Reasons on why Herbs is having PMS.

One, no sex. I've met men around here but it just happens that they're not my type. Its either they're too ugly or bottom. I know that I have to stop being too anal about this but the whole part where I'm not getting any sexy time, I'm afraid this could be one of the reasons why I'm heading to necrophilia or bestiality next year. YEAY, ZOMBIES!

Two, can't play with myself. One of my cousins decided to sleep in my room and he's usually awake when I'm around and he's been quite a fan of my room since he's been here. The restroom ain't that friendly with the jerking part either 'cause its just. .really. not. cool. You should see it.

Three, I had this moment where I'm just all alone in our house and I spent the whole day looking for my long lost M2M videos. Sadly, I don't remember where I hid them and the only thing that I found after four hours of searching are some straight porn.

It was my last resort, and I was desperate.

As I fixed the dvd player and watched the screen of me t-vo go blue with the part where its getting ready to read the files, it suddenly turned off and broke down when I was just planning to pull my shorts off. FML.

One time, I decided to go to one of their popular bars around here but unfortunately, they close at 12. The booze are usually beer so my belly's getting bigger each day and I'm still this small immature little clown who's trying to be happy in a place he once called home.

Yes, baby herbs is not happy & he can't wait to be home soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

at dahil hindi ako nagcelebrate ng Christmas kagabi

2009-12-25T20:25:00.001+10:00

Magmamamalate ako ngayun! Mag-isa. ulit! WHOOOOOOOOOOO!
Join the fun. See you at BED!

I hope

2009-12-24T04:58:00.001+10:00

someone out there could explain to me why I'm feeling this way.

Its that feeling of getting elated every time you see this person. Not that it never happened to me in the past. In retrospect, I've gotten over the whole experience. But it happened again, and this time, its far more worse than the first time I had a dose of it.

I'm far more than disappointed with myself to let things happen this way. To see him just walk pass through me without a muscle in my body contracting to make that move. Its just so not me! I know something when I want it, and I never fail to get it. But this time, its a totally different story.

Fuck love at first sight. This is something better than that. Well, that's what I thought about it when the sickness was still at its symptoms. Obsessed would be an understatement. With my friends as witness to my falsifiable obsession, I'm quite sure they've already gotten enough of my daytime dreaming

"Oh! Wouldn't it be great if he'll ask me out one of these days? Damn it. He's so fucking cute!"

"But you're not talking to him.."

"There will come a time. Swear! May moment yan eh!"

"Right" [/sarcasm]

As days pass by. I've soon realized that there is no moment. That you are the one who 's in total control of the whole scenario. It's either be the fish, or be the shit. Thing with time, it changes. Nothing in this world is permanent but change, (Oh kill me already with the over use of cliches) and getting my ass off that bench that hot Thursday morning while he was just two meters away from me-was the last time I had the word 'guts' in my system.

Well, I did have a lot of tendencies where we're just next to each other. But my tongue and heart seems to back-out every time my radar sees him. He's like my ultimate weakness or something.

Despite all the gorgeous men I've seen around school...the cities I've been through, the tv shows and movies I've seen and jerked off to. No one in this world has ever got me feeling the way he does it. Its like my heart wanted nothing more but him. My soul fed in his presence. His existence was even one of those things that can only make me smile on days of great depression.

Why am I feeling this way towards him? Even though I've never heard his voice, nor talk to him for that matter. I've always felt like he was someone I've known a lot before which explains the whole idea of why I'm totally obsessed with him. or not.

Feeling like a freak after saying all these things to you. It hurts me a lot to think about those moments where I could have just talked to him. I simple Hy or a smile wouldn't hurt, right?

I just can't help but wonder in the end of the day. If there was ever a moment, a second, that he ever thought about this guy who just stares at him every time he smokes at his usual spot. Would he even know that someone out there could be so in love with him that he's willing to take a week-off from school just to be with him. Wait. A week? No. A month! Even a lifetime! just to be with him. That despite the boundaries and the fact that you two have never had any sense of communication, make all these dreams of me and you plausible?

I've always believed that letting go of a dream is the moment it dies. In my efforts to do so, with my lonely nights spent on bars alone trying to flush you out of system. You still manage to spark a hope down deep this pit of sheer darkness. You have served me as an inspiration, and I want you to be more than that.

I guess there's nothing wrong about being human. To feel this way about someone.
To have you in my dreams.

I just wish that someday you'll read this. On days where you feel like the whole world just suddenly turn its back on you and you're left like some immature little clown.

I'm always here to make it all better. But right now, I feel like having a break. Taking my shoes off, my heart has grown tired of those days dreaming about you.

Finally, it has finally got to its limits.

You're out.

2009-12-22T12:14:00.000+10:00

I was already sitting on the floor after getting my shoes off. Eating crackers while telling him how I spent my day smoking and procrastinating projects, it was my own way of entertaining myself while watching him fix the the living room.

"So this is what you are like when you're sane," I smiled.

"Taking E doesn't really mean I was out of my system the last time we did it," he shrugged.
"I guess. But you were fidgeting like crazy. I thought you were having a seizure or something! Haha," while I slowly but gently came next to him.

"Have I told you that I'm in a relationship?"

"WOW!" in shock and disbelief, "Why would you even fool around with me?" "He's out of the country. Working in Kuwait as a Medical practitioner, he won't be back in two years," he told me, like lines etched on his heart-he told me he was the one for him-while hugging me tight. Right.

Being the skeptical-douche, "You seriously think you two would last? I bet my dick you wouldn't last a year! Long-distance relationships rarely work out. To think that you two have only been together for a month or so, do you even have any foundation?"

"It's my first-time going through this, and I want to make sure it works," he was firm with his words while taking off his clothes before going to the shower. "We'll see," after sitting back on the couch that retracts into a bed in seconds.

Good thing I'm not like most of my friends who have this principle of not having sex with anyone who's already in a relationship. Thing is, its just sex.

He came back to me with his shorts left and a smile on his face. "Ready?," he was as hyper as a rabbit.

"Aww. Damnit. I thought we were just friends. Hahaha," I kid, and so I went on next to the cubicle where the shower stood. "GAME!" I proclaimed, while wiping off waters dripping down my chest and legs after a few minutes of my usual pre-sex ritual.

He was busy texting his boyfriend when I came back next to him. "Tanga ko talaga! Sinabi ko na ngang goodnight eh! Nagtext pa kasi ulit," while scratching his head. He looked at me, flashing his usual naughty smile while his monster nudging my tummy, I suddenly missed the thought of having a boyfriend.

And so, the routine went on. Standing still beside him while kissing his lips and embracing his body, I went on with twitching every sensitive part of his while biting his lips before going down. If there's one thing I'm grateful about, is that I pretty much know how to use these lips that the good Lord gave me.

Pushing him down the couch while trying to stretch it into a bed at the same time. The whole play ended in fail succession. Like. Total epic fail. He already came while we were still "in the heat" and fuck! was it lame.

"Awww. Ang bilis mo naman..," I sighed in exhaustion.

"Galing mo kasi eh," he laughed.

"Gago. Bumili ka nalang sana ng blow up doll diyan kung gusto mo lang ng may mag blow sayo noh!" while pulling one of his pillows and hugging it tight.

"Sorry. I was too horny. Kanino pa ako tinitigasan eh."

Sigh.

"Jerk off ka nalang."

Dude, I could do that at home anytime I want. I didn't come here just to blow you. Fuck this, Imma fucking leave soon. You're off my list. I thought to myself.

------------------------------------------------------

After taking a nap and waking up far more early than our planned time of getting up so we could do it all over again, I stood up, got my shirt and pants back on. Fixed myself, and went home smoking while riding the cab.

Its been a ritual for me to smoke every time I get a bed sex date. Thus, I wish for more men who are good in bed this Christmas. Aside from my Visa.

Things I've learned last night: Don't suck too good.well, duh. It's not my fault I'm good at this. damnit. lol

and now that I got that out of my system, I'll be sleeping now. I still have class at 6PM.

Getting used to

2009-12-16T20:10:00.003+10:00

My first hook up was disastrous. Really. It was. Among all my other firsts, this one has to go to my I-dont-want-to-tell-this-to-you-'cause-you'd-revoke-our-friendship box.

I ended up being in a relationship with him. I'd lie if I told that you I didn't fall in love with him. He was awesome. But like flowers in midsummer, they soon wear off when winter comes. He had to go. and so, I bid farewell.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'd mistake hook ups as having a date with my first. Its just that you cut the whole part where you two have to go out and have dinner or lunch, before you go sexy time. I'm stuck in one shallow world if you think about it. Loving has already been suffocated to its knees, its all about sex now.

Have you ever had this moment where you just suddenly stopped dancing on the dance floor, sat, light a smoke, and watch everyone else around you doing the same thing you did a few minutes ago? Men making out, the go-go boys seducing women and men around them, and the one cute waiter with the long eye-lashes you go gaga about.

It was stupid to get attached with men, whom you knew were just after meat in the first place. Whether he's a CEO of some company, or a schoolmate-it doesn't matter. You're all but after meat for tonight!

I guess the biggest "oh-no-youre-such-a-whore-moment" for me would be that night where I was dancing with this guy that decided to introduce me to his friend, whom he didn't know was the same guy I slept with the past week. It was awkward, but I guess that usually happens around here when you're a whore, I mean, friendly.

Despite the whole drama where I tend to get attached to people I fuck, I soon realized and learned that not getting too personal and only going for it for just one night is all but it is. Though I still get to receive texts from some of them asking me when I'll be back at the least I'd expect it, I'd connect with them like friends. That's what they all are in the end, friends that you enjoyed- for-a-night friend.

Everyone do make mistakes, but its just stupid to see other people not realize that Malate is no place for any love story. Its possible, but do you seriously want to find your prince charming from that place? I'd say No.

I'm still too delusional to find my prince charming at some bar. Maybe at a Ball, why not? why not.

Lint

2009-12-06T12:47:00.000+10:00

I've never believed in coincidence; like the lint left on my black poloshirt after leaving it on the floor (which I think is just the effect of sheer stupidity) , my extra condom tucked in between my IDs, and even the part where I had to go back to this Wicca store just to check if I did leave my smokes there. In a way, these things do contribute to how your day would be like, no matter how small it is.

Being in Malate again and inside the infamous BED bar, I've just realized that there are a lot of pros and cons to going to any bar at night. First, is that you don't need to put concealers on 'cause everyone is pretty much flawless with a little help from them flashing lights and random lazer streaks (which is a pretty much a BIG BIG plus for me). Two, almost anyone can get away with the "sorry-i-already-have-a-partner" line. Three, making out with a cute guy ain't inevitable. Four, you can dance like Napoleon Dynamite on heroin without anyone else giving a shit. And lastly, cute boys can evolve into snatchers in a flash!

*******************************************************************

my mask. if you've seen any guy wearing this mask on-its probably me.

I got in BED relatively early again. In retrospect, I do always get there early-to the point that no one ever really has gone in yet-and there will always be these two guys coming in right after us, which by the way, dances good too. Coincidence? fuck no!

Luckily, I did get manage to bag one of the cute guys who looks like this crush of mine from school. I've thought, if having your crush getting in bed with you is impossible, the best way to go around it is by having sex with a guy that totally looks like him instead. Reasonable? Hell yeah!

Besides, he did study at Main which is pretty close to my school and he's not a hipon! YEAY!

The good thing about my recent gardener is that we weren't talking gibberish, and his lips-which I don't have any idea of knowing how he got it that way-was sweet. It wasn't lip balm, and it definitely wasn't candy neither.

Anyway, the usual happened, we made out like crazy by the corner withstanding random footsteps, the ear-deafening bass speakers around Bed and ashes falling above us. Later on, he introduced me to his best friend while being a sweetheart by giving me water to quench my thirst, and a whole lot of beer to keep me bouncing.

After the whole conundrum of us trying to get away from his friends 'cause they don't like him hooking up with younger boys than him, we've managed to get a cab to one of the apartelles near Gil Puyat. I haven't been to any motels or hotels for hooks-up 'cause I've always thought it were that embarrassing, but I guess you won't really care anymore if you're drunk and pretty much wasted. It all bites in the end anyway.

****************************************************************

So there we were, inside one of the rooms he rented for a day. With my body spreading across the bed as he was busy having his before-sex shower rituals, I ended up leaving my whole wardrobe on the floor after being forced to wash myself of nicotine and sweat. (Thats where the lint part gets in.)

With kisses and foreplay done with every tick of the clock, we've spent more than an hour on foreplay like rabbits having sex for the first time. Thank God for one-night-stands! I think, if it weren't for them boys you get into bed every now and then, you wouldn't be giving your soul mate the best sex out there, if you do believe on soul mates that is. If you don't, disregard this whole paragraph and move on with this post like nothing was ever mentioned about soul mates. Then again, they would still serve as training grounds for potential porn-stars and sex connoisseurs, no?

Suddenly, I had this epiphany that having a lot of buttsex would make your ass-crack bigger. I mean, wider. Well, it'd be over-rated to say that its an epiphany rather than common sense, but the whole fact that it never felt like someone was stabbing me with a knife in the back is far more than what I have expected. Finally, my fellow bottoms-someone has found my g-spot!

*shining glory from heaven showering down on me with weird angel voices*

So yeah, the whole part where I think my ass-crack is getting bigger is just pure blasphemy. It was just actually my sex expertise evolving to another level! WOOOOO!

Everything was all done and said in the end, with lint all over my polo shirt and the bystanders outside the apartelle giving us weird looks when we just got ourselves out, it all just boils down to this: me posting this early in the morning without sleep. yet.

True, broadcasting to the whole world how I attain righteousness with every hook-up executed may sound demeaning or something. Everyone will always have their perspective on this. I guess this is just my only way to vent out all these random thoughts spurting out of my brain on a usual basis. That's why this is a personal blog, right? Right.

Like old newspapers read and done,
this is where it ends, this is where it rests.

HAPPY GAY PRIDE TO EVERYONE!

Why I can't make more posts than usual

2009-11-23T05:38:00.001+10:00

I've been looking at my drafts and I managed to weed out 4 good unfinished blog posts from it. It just gets undone when something/someone surprisingly pops out of nowhere and apparently disrupts my spontaneously self-entertaining typing.

I guess the rest of the story usually dies off when its left undone or corrupted. I never made a post not done in one-sitting. Same reason why I always type in the morning (1Am to 3Am). I don't have time for composition, word-checking and thesaurus look-up just to make people say that I'm a good writer. Fuck that. As long as you can send your messages clear, it's all good with me. To those who can't send their messages right with that awful use of grandiose words & random American linggo in between just to show everyone that they actually know BIG words, now that's fucked up. To those who do have the effort and do multi-drafts for their blog posts, kudos to you!

I've been tagged by a friend to write 5 random things about me so I guess I'm doing that one tonight.

warning: some of them are tmi. not that you're not used to that but I just find it more formal to tell it to you before you start reading or skipping to the juicy part after reading this.

1. I've always known that my family knows I'm gay. It's just either their on denial or they just terribly have an awful gaydar to start with. While Mom's terribly okay with it except that awful part where she reminds me about safe sex every time we end each other's talk on the phone-I guess its just her way of fulfilling her parenthood. While some of the oldies around here are confused due to the fact that I do had a girl pregnant in my high school days, the only way of making them know I'm gay is by bringing a boy home & telling them he's my boyfriend or just start off with that 'out of the closet' speech that I've been getting ready for for a whole year now. Then again, I don't really need to tell them that I'm gay. I just want them to stop annoying me asking when I'll introduce my girlfriend to them. I want to hear the words ,"kailan mo naman ipapakilala ang boyfriend mo?" for a change.

2. I like being treated like one of the boys once in a while. Yes, the whole "lets just drink beer and watch basketball" thing guys do every upcoming big game-its the only time I can use my 'nothing box.' & yes, it is entertaining when you go ballistic every time the referee gives a bad foul on your team. We've always had that animalistic hetero-ness in us. Believe it or not, I can pass at a bar without being suspected being gay-I still enjoy flirting with complete female strangers but never to the point that I'd have sex with them-that is just plain gross!

you can roll your eyes if you have to.

3. One of my current goals is to learn how to dance like a go-go boy. So if you know anyone who could teach me, message me. I've always been amazed with their effortless boner-inducing moves that makes people stare. Not all of them may look good but who wouldn't want to have a pillow-sex fetish with those ugly but extremely hot ones? I'd still tap those shrimps even for a one night stand. Okay, not the shrimps but the really good-looking hot ones. I know that the awfully strong visayan accent would tend to be a turn-off sometimes but it doesn't really matter when his mouth is all wrapped tight with tape after finding out that he's into BDSM. Why the hell not? Growing up in the mountains doesn't necessarily mean they're mindless of fetishes and fantasies, you might even be surprised if they're the more adventurous one. Not that I should know this through experience or anything, its just fun being imaginative and not limiting your mind to the boundless things that could happen. Impossible is just a word with the prefix -im to it just to make it sound more challenging, its all possible in the end.

4. I can't be top. I've done it more than once and it gave me nothing but knee aches and arthritis-like attacks. I'd still say that doing girls is far more better than fucking guys. I just find it weird on how I don't get sensation with buttsex, and please, dick size is not the problem here 'cause I'm pretty much sure mine is above average. I just find it more fun being bottom. I don't find it degrading and I think people just really have to learn how to compromise. Eat your egos and just go with it, you might just learn that its actually more fun than pain.

5. My favorite position is the cowgirl. Though I call it the cowboy when I'm the one who's doing it. I just can't wait to see those people I know text me after getting horrible vivid nightmares after reading this one. I still look at tops as selfish bastards leaving you like some rubbish in bed after finishing their business with you. Well some of them are. And if there are any starting out tops reading this right now, don't worry-size doesn't matter-it's really how you use it that counts! As long as you can hit your partner's g-spot right or know basic prostate milking, its all good. They might even go for a round two if you still can.

Even though I still can't imagine how a 17 year-old kid would type this, I still had fun making myself laugh with the image of awkward replays of irony and orgasm all in just one sitting. I'm still ending this like how my mom and I would end it;

The real Christmas list.

2009-11-17T10:10:00.002+10:00

Now that my favorite holiday is near, I now show y'all my what-i-want-for-christmas-list-so-you-would-know-what-to-give-me-on-Christmas-day list. Christmas is the only season where I get unsolicited money and is treated like a princess. Same reason why I'm celebrating it this early.

Presenting.....

the what-i-want-for-christmas-list-so-
you-would-know-what-to-give-me-on-
Christmas-day LIST. [top 10]

1. an Australian Visa - I know, no one from here could get me this one. But If I get just one wish this Christmas, this would be it.

2. a Nikon D90 - It's a DSLR with an HD video-recorder! Now who wouldn't want to have this baby?

3. a legit Rayban wayfarer - I remember having a crush who used to wear this every time I see him buying coffee. and besides, these nerdy glasses would look great on my round face. [You, don't forget your promise! I've been happy like a bitch since you told me you'd buy this for me! OHMAHGAWD *hyperventilates* ]

4. a Macbook - it's artist-friendly and its colors doesn't change that often compared to Windows. Other than its sleek design and awesome functions, it rarely gets infected with worms & viruses too!

5. a Tablet - I've just realized how awesome the tablet is after digitally-painting while we were on class today. This is definitely a NEED for an artist like me.

6. 200 followers - Enough to help me start a cult. I'm going to conquer this fuckin' planet, bitches!

7. a fake ID - So I could legally get into bars and buy liquor & cigarettes. Though I know I could make one, I just don't have the time to make templates this coming month.

I already calculated how much they'll all cost me and it goes around a hundred and sixty thousand. So if every follower of mine gives me a check of one thousand each, assuming that they'll be 200 by mid-december *fingers-crossed*, this 6 wishes of mine wouldn't be THAT impossible anymore, right?

RIGHT.

and last, but certainly not the least (yes, i love cliches)

8. WORLD PEACE - dream on.

sunday morning

2009-11-16T15:18:00.000+10:00

i love you.

its time

2009-11-14T03:07:00.000+10:00

to fix everything, to make my world a better place, get my feet back to studying, say sorry to everyone I've ever fought with, and do things the right way. It's time to take control of this life; enough slacking, start working while having fun doing it.

It's time for me to feel like a kid again, I miss the feeling.

It's hard to stay sane with a world full of chaos. Being naive turns you into an ignoramus, an ass-kisser born to be a fool-why can't the World be a better place?

Why can't people stop at some point of their work and step back, get their worksuits off and think about the good memories of yesterday. There's no time to waste but there's a lot of time given to have fun. We can't help but feel bad. We don't want to get hurt but we are the one doing our problems ourselves. We act on things without really thinking of the consequences, we lie to people for the good, we keep secrets to ourselves that only brings discomfort.

We blame, we cry, we judge. We make people laughing stocks like some old joke and old socks. Good thing karma strikes back in a snap. I just want a good life and words won't stop me with my dreams, problems won't stop me. I just want to be honest to everyone for a change.

to my coffeebabies: thank you for being such great friends. Yj, i hope you stop at saying how much of a fraud i am 'cause i'm not-it just hurts to find people laugh at what i work hard for and compose each night. Nyl, for your non-stop criticism that makes you look so perfect. Victor, for understanding me with what I've been going through. I still love you babies 'cause you've always been my refuge.

Its hard to put up with you people when my self-esteem is always pulled down with the words you say. I just laugh about it but it hurts to have people say I'm ugly and looks 25++ I hope people would learn to look at themselves first before judging anyone. Why does everyone have to be bitchy?

to line of flight: i'm sorry if i haven't got any good replies to your comments. nosebleed lang talaga kasi. you're still the smartest guy i know evar!

to mr.scheez : for being my photo editor and awesome friend, you're one awesome kuya.

to ice, who never stops to make me happy. you're a miracle.

to all the bloggers that i've been bitchy with-i'm sorry.

to dats, whom I've always sarcastically commented at- you're one of the hottest guys out there-and you're just really awesome-i love your accent!

I guess being honest is still the best policy. Doesn't it feel so good to let it all out in just one post? I know it made me feel better, you should try it.

cheers for new beginnings

the catch

2009-11-12T03:39:00.001+10:00

"So what do you get from your course?"

a friend of mine asked me while having coffee with him last Tuesday.

"I get to do what I love."

"Seriously? Three years for that?"

"Nothing is wasted as long as I'm learning and having fun."

"Yeah. First year would teach you how to turn on the camera. Second will teach you how to aim it.."

I could've been a bitch and told him that this is the underlying reason why he's still a virgin at 20 besides his big fat ass, but I fought the idea of it and let karma do the talking... Besides, putting up with people who keeps on insulting my program is more than enough in one sitting. Whats even more frustrating is when your professor tries to teach you while she's just being a whiny bitch for half the whole time for her class.

Its hard to stay sane when you have 64 pictures more to shoot, 7 plates to paint, and one photo essay all due in just a week. To think that you're balancing these stuffs with your family, dinner, coffee and boyfriend. AND before I forget, I still have 7 more pictures to manipulate all due this Saturday.

I'd like to work and do what I'm supposed to be doing but that inspired push ain't in there yet.
So, while I procrastinate and stalk-i mean, check-people's tagged pictures on facebook. I found this really interesting piece, which obviously tells me that I'm going to hell (with all the other hot gay men out there. Yes papa P, you are coming with us.) YEAY!

I'd like to see her get struck by lightning or by a truck, but that plain grey hoodie she was wearing IS way too chic to waste. Even though she did wear fake-cheap braces and a fifty-a-piece glasses, that hoodie is still too precious. & I do hope I won't see them (homophobic faux pas) in hell.

Now this gets me back to the whole gay pride scene in this country. Though we all know that being gay isn't much supressed down here except to those unico hijos and mafia-ic chinese families-I don't get the reason why some of the people were wearing pretty eccentric clothes last gay pride.

Point is, we're trying to show everyone that we're just like everybody else in this country and we go there topless with angel wings and whatnot covering ourselves. & please-don't go sayin' like you don't know what normal is.

I guess the whole point of this post is to tell you how much I connect the most random things to past tenses and midnight dramas concerning sex. If there's one last thing I gotta say to you, its

BE READY.

great news!

2009-10-26T01:40:00.002+10:00

My laptop, which my mom gave me on my graduation day finally gave up on me. With every key of its board malfunctioning-I guess its time for it to rest. It does make me sad how the one I've spent a lot of heartaches and naughty times with has finally decided to leave me. Sigh. I feel like crying and getting all dramatic at the same time but I just can't be too emotional right now when I've got shitloads of assignments to do. *sigh*

If anyone out there would like to help me get my laptop's keyboard fixed,

please do.

Hiyang-hiya na akong humingi pa ng tulong sa
aking mga magulang na may mga iba
pang taong tinutulungan sa probinsya. sigh.

Malungkot isipan na kung ano lang ang bagay na talagang nagpapasaya sa akin dito ang siya pang nawala sa buhay ko. Mahal ko yun eh. Kasama ko siya sa pagtupad ng aking mga pangarap, kasama ko rin siya sa mga panahong umiiyak ako at nawawalan ng landas, tinuruan na rin niya ako ng mga bagay na wala akong kaalam-alam. Hay. . . .

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back to reality:

Have you ever had that hes-the-one-feeling every time you see this guy around. You know, that gut-feeling everyone's been talking about. That time where you first saw him and felt like you've known him in ages? Yes! That!

Well, I had that feeling with this guy whom I've been really obsessed with. There's nothing really different from him with the normal people you see around town. But there's this unexplainable attraction that I get from him every time I see him. Damn those people who made fairy tales to corrupt young people's mind of happy endings!!!!!

I feel sad & hopeless with what's been happening around me. Last time I checked, I haven't done anything wrong to anyone nor made a fuss about something that I know that's wrong. How I dream of having someone to love & getting myself home with every tick of the clock.

I feel like a hollow barrel full of air but with no emotions to fill it. Cobwebs surrounding my thin wooden cover. Sigh.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I want a miracle.
I want a boyfriend
& I want my VISA!!!!!!

Yes, I'm pretty much emotional lately so bear with me. This will pass.

Home

2009-10-23T20:27:00.006+10:00

If I could go anywhere right now

I'd be with me mom & dad.

I miss having the thought of your parents looking after you. Or the part where you all talk at dinner with the smell of burnt steak and sweetcorn on the sidings. I miss having my mom cook me breakfast and kiss me everytime I leave the house & greet her goodnight.

I want to watch Mom fix the garden while Dad's busy cleaning his car. To walk around town all by myself knowing that there are people I love at home. To see the bright morning sun refracting on my window without the thought of loneliness & riot.

I'll do anything for that feeling right now. The peaceful thought of being around those people you love. That family that I didnt have for all these years, that normal structure everyone else has- I want it.

I'd leave everything I have for that sweet scent of love.

If God could ever hear me right now, I
want my visa done soon so I could be where Im supposed to be-

home.

I think, therefore Im sexy

2009-10-19T03:49:00.000+10:00

I always had this mindset that how a person expresses himself in writing pertains to how good he looks in person. That all the words he or she uses is directly proportional to his face structure and anatomy BUT accompanied with minor discrepancies.

Sabi nga nila, nobody has everything. You may be the richest, smartest, hottest man on earth-but you will always have a flaw. Will it be bad breath in the morning, or your penis is too small for reproduction. This always got me thinking how it feels like to live in a male supermodel's body for a day. The glamour, the nicotine, and the endless flow of alcohol down your throat. Amazing how they keep up with that good shape of anorexia.

One thing I definitely learned this week is that you shouldn't take those pictures on billboards for granted. No matter how ridiculous & shallow the concept is, lighting models/subjects is no easy shit!

From finding a good angle, model & concept. Imagine how time is located on your left side of the brain while the creative side resides on the right. Its completely two different concept done together. Fixing the lights to a right angle, telling what to do & focusing the lens was exhausting. To think that my 3 hours work got cut down to 2 after finding out that they usually end the borrowing time of equipments by 4 PM.

In the end, it was all fun & worth it to see myself improving from this line of photography. It may not be my usual macro & abstract shots- I just need to practice more on it while I try & grasp the whole idea of poses, make-up & light. I want to learn on how to apply make-up, place my strobes right, control my model with the right poses & minimize the use of any photo-manipulating software as much as possible.

Though it may be hard & exhausting doing all of this. It all payed off c'ause we knew we're having fun doing it. It didn't matter whether we got some awesome shots to fill our facebook up or anything but what's important is that we had fun doing it.

besides, LIFE IS ALL ABOUT HAVING FUN.

reaching this dream, one step at a time

Lukayo

2009-10-16T22:39:00.003+10:00

Hy.. Hello!. .Pwede makisindi? . . Hy. .

Paulit-ulit. Nakakasawa. Nakakasuka. Nakaka-awa. Sa tapat ng salamin, mga linyang di na matapos-tapos sa kakaulit. Sa bawat minutong binibitawan, tibok ng puso'y lumalayo-munting hiling bumabaon.

Mga matang hindi na matapos-tapos sa kakatitig, mga salitang binubulong sa hangin-dinadasal na marinig, pinagbibigyan ang munting hiling. Sa bawat gabing pumapatak, sa bawat araw na bumubusilak-ikaw ang nasa isip, droga ng aking pusong unti-unting kinahuhumalingan. Nakakasakal. Nakakamatay. Nakakasikip ng dibdib.

Sa bawat hugot ng lakas, sa bawat salitang binibitawan-nawawala sa hangin ang pag-ibig. Lumalabas na parang luha sa munting bibig, paghihinagpis na kinikimkim-tama na sa pangangarap, tama na sa paghihintay. Nakakalungkot.

Dinasal sa bawat araw sa diyos na hindi pinaniniwalan. Parang bulag na nakaharap sa salamin, araw-araw minamasdan ang walang saysay na paningin. Umasa na, pinaasa pa. Hinagpis na hatid sa bawat sandali.

Ikaw na minamahal, pinagmamasdan sa bawat sandali. Pinalangin sa bawat bituing dumarating. Kailan kaya ako pakikinggan, sino akong pakikinggan. Ngiti na hatid ng iyong mga mata, tama na sa pagpapantasya, tama na. . .