Yes, This is for You

Hey, I think you're cute

No, actually, I think you're hot

A little boyish - a little rough - a lot my type

And yes, needless to say, I like you

Hey, I'd like to get to know you - yes, you

A little bit - a little more - a little bit more

It's actually quite simple - I've told you how it works

But that's where it stops being less complicated

Hey, I know there's someone - you've told me countless of times

And I'm not dumb - I perfectly understand

I just want to know you - even for a moment - a moment more

Do you think we can finally talk?

Hey, don't walk away again - I don't mean any harm

Besides, it's rude. You need not be - I'm a nice guy

Whenever you're ready - you know how to reach me

Just let go - it will be fun. Trust me.

Thank You

Thank you
For making me feel better
For being there when I needed you most
For being you

Thank you
For the sweetness that filled my being
For the bitterness that balanced out the sweet
Yes, indeed, you had me at hello

Thank you
For listening while I ranted
I could not have survived the day with you
I could have lost it, again

Thank you
For being a friend when it hurts to even smile
For the temporary happiness
I feel much better now; I am back in control

Thank you
The rush helped alleviate the pain
But eventhough we've made good memories
Still you are evil - so damn you, damn you and your calories!


Blogger's Note: I had to give in - the chocolate bundt cake being sold across the street was just too delicious to pass off. Now excuse me, I have to run.

My Reality

It was already way past my bedtime and I was sleepy. So sleepy, in fact, that I even planned on not removing my contacts. But it happened - an email went through.

"white, top, 8 inches, thick, athletic body - into ___ and ___ (safe)"

And then, of course, there was a picture.

"Oh...", I whispered.

I was convinced.

"Tao lang ako...", I continued.

And just like that, I accepted my reality.

"Shit. Late na naman ako nito bukas..."

Bunso

I had to warm up the water and bring it to the room where a stranger was prepping my mom for childbirth - yes, Nanay decided to give birth at home because we were already cash-strapped when you were being conceived. And, if I am not mistaken, it was Thursday around six in the morning when I first heard the cry - it would be first of many years of incessant crying in our extremely cramped house. I remember I left the house that day, smiling - I had to go to class and I was late. I was Kuya, once again.

******

I carried you in my arms. I changed your diapers countless times. I prepared your bottle and bought your milk. I gave you your medicines and wiped your behind. We'd even take a bath together (which I hated, for the record, since I could not really jerk, haha). I cleaned up your mess, much like how I cleaned up after everyone else. We'd watch cartoons together (up until the night I left) and yes, we loved "Cow and Chicken". I loved Cow, you adored Chicken (you later outgrew them, I did not, haha).

You would always choose to be with me - hide behind Kuya for tickle-protection - and you'd tell me stories - lots of them - all computer or cartoon-related. And I, I would always listen (or at least I'd pretend to be interested in hearing why this robot is more powerful than the other one, etc. etc.).

I spoiled you just because I wanted to - I wanted you to be able to enjoy the things that I never got to enjoy growing up. Whatever money I had left was used to buy you junk food which you loved. We'd have McDonald's breakfast every weekend - we love hash browns and their longanisa meal. And of course, the toys - Zoids and countless of other gadgets and gizmos that ate up a large part of my then-pitiful government salary. But, just seeing you smile every single time you open your pasalubongs and gifts was enough to make me happy. You made our Christmases really happy.

You enjoyed sleeping beside me and there were times - when you were still small - on my tummy - and everyone else in the house would be extremely jealous. I would often wake up with you hugging me. I would kiss you on the cheeks, ever so softly so as not to wake you up. When you do, you'd scratch your nose, let go, turn around and kick me wherever - your eyes still closed - and then you'd hug me again and we'd simmer in bed until brunch is served.

I must admit, Nanay is probably right (just don't tell her) - we may just as well be twins separated by fifteen years. I can really see myself in you - and so far, you're on the right track - on a better track even. Nanay and Tatay may have already learned from their mistakes - they have become better parents after me. Praktisado na sila, haha. But, I wish you'd realize that in spite of our similarities, we are really different from each other. This is a good thing, trust me. I would not wish my life on you - wag mo ko gayahin - Kuya is not all that. Make the most out of your life - harness your potentials - I'll be behind you.

Kuya is away on your birthday this year - the first time that I'll be missing this since that fateful Thursday morning, fifteen years ago. I hope you have a good one - and yes, sagot ko lahat.

Happy Birthday Bunso. I wish I was there. Miss ka na ng Kuya.

Why Won't You?

I have seen millions of bodies

Thousands of chests. Hundreds of dicks.

They all look the same - without a name.

But I have never seen you.

I have seen a million smiles

Endless teeth. Pink lips.

They all are the same - all playing the game.

But I have never seen yours.

I have connected with millions of eyes

And yes, many of them smize.

Blue, green, brown, black, grey - nothing really makes my day.

But I have never seen yours.

I am very easy to please - and you know that.

In fact, I am already sold - even without the face, teeth or eyes

So please, let's end the charade

For unlike countless others, I'm not after you to get laid.

I so hate that the biggest puzzle lingers -

I know you can - but why won't you?

Shit, forgive me for forgetting

That, of course, you are a selfish asshole too.

Blogger's Note: To "smize" according to Tyra is to "smile with your eyes". Try it, it actually works.

The Invitation Says Casual

Somebody's gonna get laid soon
Very soon... by someone he actually likes
Unfortunately, this someone
Is already someone else's boy

Somebody's gonna get laid soon
Very soon... but he's scared
He's scared to fall in love
Because he himself is taken

Somebody's gonna get laid soon
Very soon... but I am sure
Somebody's gonna get hurt
And this somebody's my friend.


And so I write - for the sake of a friend; for the sake of others who may find themselves in the same situation in the near future; for those who are currently in the shit hole; and for those who just have nothing better to do on a weekend but read my blog. Thank you.

They say that men are genetically configured to have sex without feelings. Gay men therefore should have this magnificent build (version 1.0) within them. But here's the twist, gay men are just that - gay and sometimes our "sex with feelings" self comes to the fore. I have met a few people with this drama - "I will not have sex with someone I don't love." Puta ka, arte mo! Haha.

Sex with love is really fancy, warm and fuzzy but not everyone is in love. Many people are just too single to be in love or too jaded to be in a relationship while others are just simply afraid to trust someone else - and that is sad. So here is where casual sex comes to play - it's easy, fuss-free and cut & dry.

How is it possible to have sex with someone without feelings? How does one actually do it?

First off - remind yourself where, how and why you met the person. Legend has it that once, before the internet, people actually go out on dates to meet other people whom they met through common friends, on the street, in a bookstore - you get the drift. Then they have sex. Now, many of us meet guys online. I am not saying this is bad - I have met some nice guys online. But, seriously, if you meet someone in a sex chatroom; in a gay hook up site; or anything that's closely associated with the words "gay" or "sex" , then there's not really much hope.

One may alway argue that sometimes, people are just there to meet people - and not really to hook up. Oh come on - provided that this contention is remotely true, it will forever remain as the exception and not the rule.

And even if you met through "legit" means, ask him if what you have between you two horny dicks is just plain and casual sex - because if it's casual that he wants, it's casual that he should get.

So what does one do when faced with the inevitable?

I say to you in the words of my uncle (Iron Chef? LOL) - go with the flow. Casual sex - less complications. Even if the boytoy is attached - it's just casual anyway. Nothing permanent. Nothing concrete. No strings attached. Simple. Carnal. Easy. But never fall in love. How? Here are some practical tips:

Never engage in conversations beyond the required - ASL, role and dick size. Yes, you can ask them where they went to school; what they do for a living; and the likes. No family stories. No status questions beyond - "do you have a boyfriend?" - either way, it's casual anyway.

No food should be consumed before or after the deed, unless of course it is part of the whole game. Consuming alcoholic drinks are fine but remember tip number 1. Your meet up is not a date. Coffee or anything else that resembles a date after the deed is never a good idea.

In bed, kissing is always optional. Condoms are necessary. Spit don't swallow. But for you - as promised, along with everything else- I will. TMI. LOL. Joint showers are just too... cheesy but if you want play pretend-intimacy then fine, pretend all the way but just make sure you end it the moment he leaves your apartment. Cuddle if you must but please, whatever happens, even if he takes you sky high beyond your wildest dreams and outside the solar system, NEVER EVER say "I love you.". Umayos ka.

No repeats. But, if you enjoyed it, cut yourself some slack. NEVER make the first call after the deed. And when he does call you - you can always say NO if you're not in the mood or for that wonderful "pa-hard to get" effect.

And finally, NEVER say "thank you" for casual sex - "You don't say thank you for effin me... pause for effect... you...don't... say... thank... you...for... effin... me....".

There - all set.

Goodluck.

Poor Eve

I saw this on Facebook - you might get a laugh or two out of it too. Enjoy.

Always Check

I haven't seen my friend J since I left the country - our last get-together was a brief chismisan session in my hotel suite in Ortigas two days before I left. I haven't spoken with him for a couple of months now. Sadly, we have had difficulty catching up on YM, as well. But today, we finally were able to touch base with each other. It was good.

What started with the usual "kamustahan" led to the "emo" moments where he goes on ranting that he's been single since the day we met (versus my four boylets since) and I had to tell him how sad it is to be beautiful, dirty, rich, rich dirty in the U-S of A. And this led to our usual anonymous kiss and tell session where we tell each other the "what, where, when and how" of our sex lives, leaving the "who" behind. Usapang bakla, period.

"Tristan, masakit pala...", he started.

"Ha? Anong masakit? Na-bottom ka?", I asked.

He laughed. I knew it.

"Talandeng ito...", I murmured.

"Masakit pala ang... nine.", he continued.

"Puta ka!", was my initial reply.

I giggled. I could imagine what he went through. You see, J is not a very big boy - he's slim and very "fragile" looking. Our claim to fame is the fact that we can both dance front and center anywhere we go. Makakapal ang mukha namin. He's my yaya - he holds my wallet, cellphone and other stuff for me whenever I make landi in public. He's also my bugaw extraordinaire - good thing we have different tastes in men. He claims he's really good in bed and so do I. Unfortunately, we've never had a common denominator who could tell us who's the better lay.

"Pero alam mo, may tama ka... masakit nga. Ha ha", I continued.

We found ourselves laughing online. I was trying to control myself. I was, after all, in a very "serious" meeting and I was just discreetly typing on my Iphone.

"When was your last sex?", he asked.

Napangiti naman ako and I typed in:

"Saturday."

"May regular fubu ka naman pala eh...", he said as if trying to temper my otherwise increasing level of sadness brought about by homesickness.

I was silent. Malinis ako. No comment na lang.

"So this last one, ano sya?"

"Uhmm Kano...", I replied.

"And..."

"Read my blog! It's there! Ano ka ba!", I castigated him.

We laughed.

"So cut o uncut?", he asked.

I paused. I felt my jaws drop. I was speechless.

"Shit. Good question.", I typed in.

And that was it. I had to step out of the room to let out a hearty laugh. I came back a few minutes later.

"Bakla, cut yata... di ko sure."

I guess the moral of the story is to always check... even before you say grace. Haha.




Blogger's Note: Thanks J for making me laugh - you made my day. I miss you na - I'll be home soon kaya mag-ipon ka na - Bora awaits.

You Pathetic Loser!

People think you're all that but really, you are not. You are not the prince that many others have imagined you to be neither are you the knight in shining armor that would sweep people off their feet. You are not a hero, Sam or Piolo - you are just you - a pathetic loser pining over lost love. Harsh but true.

Do you honestly believe that your friends know you that well? Do you seriously think that they really care about your endless stories of love everlasting and how you had given it your all? Don't you think you've already tortured them enough? Come, watch me hurl with the millions of people who are laughing at you because you are you now.

And while I am at this, how is it even humanly possible that you believe that there is no more life after all of your "sufferings" - just because the "end all and be all"of your existence has chosen to thread a different path? Come - watch us roll our eyes in unison.

Do you also think that making a fool of yourself can make you less sad? Trust me honey, all the sex in the world can never make you happy. Well, it can for about uhmm 10 seconds and then that warm and fuzzy feeling will just go away - much like the love of your life. And yes, you will feel empty - way more empty - than when you first started. Plus, of course, you'd need to take a shower to wash off all that saliva and other bodily fluids that other people have put on you. Eeek!

Don't even get me started on drugs, alcohol and cigarettes (and the likes). Loserville awaits you for even thinking of substance abuse.

Oh and puh-lease stop all the games - the online hide and seek, the "let-me-see-if-the-love-of-my-life-is-just-invisible-on-YM" game or the ever famous "let-me-try-to-connect-to-him-on-a-psychic-level-and-then-maybe-he'd-call-me" activity. Truth is, he will never be online for you and he will never call. And if by chance he does go online and/or he does call you, it's not really about you. He just wants to feel less bad about himself. People are selfish.

You are not "lost" so stop saying that you are lost - I even asked you where you were, remember? And please, enough with the "I don't know how and where to start? bit" Wait, let me roll my eyes again before I scream - START WHAT, START WHERE? Living? Are you even dead? And please, never even think of suicide - for that worthless piece of meat? Geez.

We all know that heartbreaks suck - and yes, they suck big time. We have heard the stories over and over and over again - different people, same story line - heartbreaks. We know how these things work (or, in your case, did not work). We understand that you felt that he was the one - that you were ready to give your life to him - that you have changed because of him - that you gave it you all - and now, that there is still room for one last cry. But, don't you even recognize that these things have already been captured in several songs, mostly by Mariah Carey and Barry Manilow? Ergo, these things have already happened to others - and they got through this phase - some, several times over. You will too.

You may have disappointed a lot of people, including yourself. You may just as well be the biggest drama queen this world may ever get to know; the most sore loser in this lifetime; you may even think that you are now evil personified, heartless... a bad boy even (you wish)... a bitch... a slut... But, these do not change the fact that you may still be perfectly imperfect for someone - someone else - someone better than best- someone who deserves you more.

Tahan na. Tama na ang drama. Lika na dito.



Blogger's Note: An old post on an old topic, given a different twist - something I wish somebody had written for me when I was the pathetic loser.

Hey Bitch

Hey bitch

What's with the sad face?

Do you think it'll never happen

That you'd be sad again?

Hey bitch

Why are you so mad?

How does it feel to be lacking

I find it really funny that I am now the one laughing.

Hey bitch

Don't you still get it?

That even without trying, I am still a hit

You barely know who you're up against

Be careful bitch

Don't try to annoy me further

For I guarantee to make you look even more stupid

And I, I'll remain an angel while I am at it.

I am evil, bitch

Beyond the bitch you'll ever be

So stop - don't you even dare bully me

You will regret it - stay away - stay very far away from me.

I Kissed Them All and I Liked It

You see, I don't really kiss - well, not as much. Don't get me wrong please, I have had my share of kisses in the past - and some of them were really really good. So good in fact that they have made their mark. This is me kissing and telling.

There was a guy I dated for a few months when I was still so young and innocent. We found ourselves kissing in a "straight turned PLU" bar (in the province) where I, along with a few close friends, used to host the biggest and grandest PLU parties. That night, there were a few people left in the bar and what began as an innocent dare of French turned out to be a not-so-wholesome French that lasted for more than half-an-hour. The thought of that night still makes me smile every so often. I was landi, really. And the waiters, those who saw me that night, have remained good friends until now. The boy I kissed, according to a friend, is my kissing soul mate - we kissed again in Mafia several years later and it was still magical.

Then there was this guy whom I met in Malate. Bed was not yet the most malandi place back then - it was Mr. Piggy's and yes, I was there every weekend. Kissing, apparently, was the usual start of hot nights in that place - and it can get really really hot there - effin kind of hot and borderline crazy! So this guy approached me, out of nowhere, and that was it. The kiss was not really that memorable - it was just that, that night, I lost my shirt. Yes, I lost the shirt that I was still wearing. Eventually, I found it lying several feet from where we were. Repeating what my friend said to me that night: "Kasi naman ang landi - nahubaran na nakikipaghalikan pa din." Haha. So there you go.

And then there was this guy in Biology (the bar dummy, not the subject) - yes, that place can also be really crazy. Up to now, I still can't figure out how twenty people can fit in one extremely small washroom. Anyway, I met this boy just outside the washroom. He started it. We kissed. We groped. And we kissed some more. After an hour or so of making out, the boy asked me to leave the place and go elsewhere. I was seriously considering it but I asked him how old he was. He said he was fourteen and I, I was 25ish then. Damn. Pinagpraktisan ako? Ha ha. I immediately went home, turned on the shower and made kuskos myself with an imaginary soap reciting my usual line: "ang dumi dumi ko... ang dumi dumi ko..." Ha ha. Joke lang. So there you go.

Then there was this guy - boyfriend ko daw sya and he refused to kiss. I was fine with that arrangement but after a week or so I felt that I had to ask him why. Bad breath ba ako? Ayaw ba nya ng smell ng yosi? LOL. Apparently, hindi nya pala ko mahal. May hang ups pa amputa. Why do I always find myself with these guys? Anyway, after a few months, he was able to resolve his issues and we eventually kissed. It was magical (for him, he said so) but unfortunately for him, I had already started treating him as one of my fuck buddies. Ayaw mo pala ah - FB ka na lang. There you go.

More recently, I kissed a blogger and I liked it. And yes, there are still nights when I think about that kiss. And yes, he knows this. Ha ha. Enough said.

I kissed my regular fubu before I left and I liked it too. We've been fubus for more than four years and we've never kissed. We finally did the night before I left Manila and yes, it was really good. He said that he was afraid that if we had kissed, it would have made our arrangement more serious and there would have been a chance for him to fall for me. He was afraid daw. Sakit sa ulo. Why are people afraid of falling love with a bad chick? Ha ha.

When I got here, I realized that kissing is quite common. People meet up to kiss (and make out). People kiss on the street, yes, even guys. I have now learned to appreciate this fact - so I have joined the kissing crowd. I am beginning to enjoy it. I barely know the people I kiss these days but who cares? I am a free boy anyway.

Blogger's Note: I now understand why they call it French - their people are way ahead of the game. Americans are a close second; the Brits are not far behind. Asians? Well, nevermind.

The Bachelor

In this side of the world, the temperature has dropped dramatically and it has been tougher to leave the house to go clubbing. So recently, I had found myself more interested in staying in than going out. But, there was one problem, I needed to get laid. Recognizing my options (or the lack of it) I decided to play the online game, again.

It seemed to be a very slow night - a lot of the guys online were either oldies, bears, fatties or just plain uninteresting. The nice ones must be out partying and I, I was too lazy to get my ass off the couch, dress up and commute to the city. I was about to call it a night when a note arrived and it said:

"Hi, if it is not too late I would like to meet up. I am 34 . Thanks, John"

I rarely go for older guys but there was a picture.

"Jackpot!", I whispered.

Against my grain, I called. He answered. He sounded good.

"Hi, this is Tristan."

"John here...", he replied.

"So what's up?", I asked.

"Well my wife is out of town... "

As soon as I heard this, my eyes rolled. Naman eh! But, I played along. Masarap eh.

"Can you travel?", I asked.

"Yeah. I know the place. I'll be there in thirty."

"Sounds good... see you in a bit", I replied.

And so I did quick clean - a decent scrub; a dab here; a gargle; and a quick hair fix. I looked polished but not too polished. It was just right. A few minutes later, he was at my door. An hour later, the deed was done. And then we got to talk. Yes, he had a wife. They have no kids, yet.

"So what do you do?", I asked.

"Well, I own a company engaged in (insert construction material). My wife is with (insert name of company)... "

I was a little impressed - he was, after all, just 34!

"And you said you travel a lot? Domestic?", I asked.

"Yeah - from one state to another. But it's okay... I own a plane.", he said quite matter-of-factly.

I almost fell off my red couch.

I waited for bullshit - it never came. He was actually serious. And then he told me about the business; his travels, his family and finally, he requested that I keep mum about the whole thing. Does "being mum" translate to "not blogging about it"? Fine print, sorry.

Anyway, this one seems to be a very good catch - hunky, smart, educated, hot and a-ultimate performer - all in all, the perfect bachelor sans the wife.

So yes, I agreed to meet up with him again.

Tristan Meets Tristan

First off, thanks to Vince of Discreet Manila (and his letter writer, Romeo Delta) for this topic. Why do people write you guys anyway? Hmpf. I never get emails like those - all I get are invites, if at all. Anyway, I liked the concept - what would a late twenties Tristan tell an 18-year old Tristan. The weather is cold enough for introspection, so here goes:

Who was the 18-year old Tristan? I can barely remember him. Cue melodramatic music please.

Tristan in 1998 was an incoming Junior in college, yes in that State U, taking up Economics. He had just passed his Sophomore year in college. At 18, he was just starting to enjoy the taste of beer and cigarettes. He was a son, a brother, a brod, a friend, and a suitor. Tristan was the epitome of a fat nerd who was struggling to fit in - and yes, he wore shorts and slippers to school and his concept of formal wear would be a pair of slacks, an ironed polo shirt, and shoes - the ugly bulldog shoes of years ago. His hair was parted in the middle (remember, Keempee - oh geez , did I even spell his name correctly?!?) and it was long, oily and generally not nice. He was promdi in all aspects. He barely went to Manila and he was fascinated by the city. At 18, Tristan had big dreams and he was overly ambitious - sometimes for his own good. But he was fun - he was funny - he was still struggling - he was happy. Tristan, at 18, appeared to be harmless and very innocent - at least that's what many people thought. He had a past.

If by some magical powers, I can meet my old self I would have these to say:

Tristan, you cannot and should not eat your feelings - this is bad for you and your future sex life. Trust me honey, you will grow fat. Tristan honey, the boys of the future are cruel and they do not like fatsos. They will judge you for how you look with your shirt off (and even on) and that's just how it works. So drop that burger and that extra cup of rice - carbs are bad for you my dear. It is evil. I cannot stress this enough.

And please, change your friends. Kidding. They are not telling you how bad you look because they too share your fashion sense. Ha ha. But you are an eighteen year-old promdi so I guess I should be more kind - fashion can be improved anyway so don't fret - you're gonna be okay. Just stay away from the camera - you will hurl when you see yourself ten years after.

And here, (hands over clay) - this is the greatest invention of all time. Get a haircut and use this product. Drop that "suave", it makes your hair and face oily. You'd get pimples and that's not good. Don't do a Keempee - he will forever be your generation's worst nightmare - much like the "aqua net and shoulder pads" of the eighties. In a few year's time, he will be fat and people will just remember him for his hair.

And who is this girl that you are courting? Stop all this foolishness! You are gay as gay can get. Stop wasting money over her - eventually she's gonna get laid by a "tibak" who rarely takes a bath and they will have a couple of kids and live happily ever after. They deserve each other and you, you my dear, are destined for greatness - divahood - stardom. You will be the ultimate pokpok of your generation. You will be fine.

And stop fooling yourself. You know you are gay. Come out of the closet and have sex - master the art of condoms. You are eighteen and you should enjoy gayness for all its worth. Don't be ashamed to admit that you're gay - you may not know it yet but the revolution has begun and in a few year's time, people will accept homosexuality as if it's a natural phenomenon. You can always blame your parents or claim that it's genetic. Don't be afraid.

And finally Tristan, when you get older you will meet the following people (whispers names) - they will break your heart and you will cry so hard and your life will change forever. But, you will love them and some of them will love you back. Trust me, it will all be worth it.

So there. Come, let me give you a hug.

You Suck

I have always wanted to become a lawyer - at least that was what I have been told growing up - so I worked hard to prepare myself for law school and the study of law. And I did - for a year or so - but things did not turn out the way I (or my parents) had planned. I stopped school and started working. And then I turned gay and I lived happily ever after - but that's cutting the long story short.

Back then, when I was still struggling to jump start my career, I would often wonder what my life would have become if I had continued on with law school. I would have probably been a lawyer - a very miserable lawyer but a lawyer nonetheless. My name would have been preceded by an "ATTY" or maybe a "JD" at the end. And that would have been very fancy - Atty. Tristan Tan. Geez. But I had to give up my dream - for practical reasons - and it sucked for a few months. No, it sucked for years.

I had lost a dream - something I had long planned for and worked hard for; something I had always wished for myself. At one point, I even felt that I was directionless. But I finally got over it, somehow.

Now, I have already come to terms with the fact that my name, even with a master's degree, would forever have a "MR" before it - the alternative, of course, is for me to turn tranny and have my birdie cut off - then I'd be a "MS". As if that's ever gonna happen! And I am happy with it. No more hang ups. No regrets. I am Mr. Tristan Tan, diva extraordinaire, exclamation point. But I digress.

My point is that, once in my life, I have given up on a dream and I survived. So now that I am being asked err.. told to give another one up is not surprising and I will survive this one too - it just sucks. It sucks big time. And this reality will suck for a long long time until it won't suck anymore. But right now, it just sucks and, gay as I am, I hate that it sucks.

And I blame destiny - yes let me do that - I blame destiny. If this is destiny's way of making me laugh, I am not amused. Hey destiny, you suck! You're so gay and you suck!

Frustrated

I am tired of drama

I have enough drama in my life to keep me busy

I am already too old for games

I don't like charades

I don't do mysteries, at least not anymore

I have outgrown puzzles

But why do I even bother with you?

Can you just please step out of my head?

You are just a pointless case

You are an unsolvable Sudoko;

An impossible Ikea cabinet;

A Zoid - try building one!

Where the hell are you?

What the eff are you up to?

I just want to know.

You know why.

The Test

"Hello?", I discreetly answered the phone.

"Tristan, this is Dr. N. Your test results are out.", she announced.

My heart skipped a bit. I immediately felt cold.

"Shit. This is it.", I whispered.

I was at work. I looked around. No one was around me. I can cry if I have to. I knew how this would work for I have played this scene in my mind several times - that I would receive a call from the doctor and she would ask me to come in and see her. I will do as I have been asked and scurry to the hospital to find out what had happened. Then she'd tell me in a very calm and relaxing manner that I tested positive. And I would cry. No, I would tear up and this would be followed by a speechless moment. Then I'd break down and cry in front of her. I would be hysterical, run to the nearest shower stall and scrub myself with an imaginary soap while crying and saying "ang dumi dumi ko... ang dumi dumi ko...". And after all that is done, I would stare into nothingness, not eat and stop talking.

Yes, my mind is perverted and I would giggle every time I would play this scene in my head. It calms me down, really. But deep inside, I am really scared with the possibility - I knew that the possibility of me having HIV and/or other STDs was there. Heck, it was high. And that was no laughing matter.

"Yes doc, how did it go?", I asked.

My world totally stopped spinning. I remember it was just a few days ago when I did some blood work. I had casually asked my doctor to tick the HIV and other STD boxes in the order sheet. Brushed it aside and gossiped with her. I pretended to be cool, calm and collected when I asked for those but deep inside, I have never been more scared. As a result, I haven't been sleeping well the last few days.

"Well, everything's normal. Your BP, blood count... blah blah... you also tested negative for syphilis, gonorrhea and HIV... blah blah..."

I felt that a big weight was lifted off my shoulder. My heartbeat was a nearing a million beats a minute. I was smiling. I slumped on my chair.

"Thank you!", I told her on the phone.

But she was not listening. She kept on telling me so many things, reciting cholesterol levels and LDLs and what have yous. And then it was my turn not to listen. All I knew was that she had said that I was clear of anything and everything that bothered me. I whispered a silent prayer and thanked the heavens.

And just like that, I felt like a new person again with a new lease at life.

I am much happier now.

Thank You.

Grateful

I thank God for the little things
Like waking up to a sunny day
And having food on the table;
Hot water in the shower

I thank God for the big things
Like waking up at all
And having people who love you
In spite of and despite of

I thank God for the wake up calls
The ultimate tests of patience and maturity
For without them, life would never be as exciting as it has been
And there'd be no reason to be happy, eventually

I thank God for keeping me clean -
I was ready for the inevitable, take note
But, I guess, thanking God for the little things, the big things and the wake up calls
Was good enough for Him, for now, to let me be happy.


Blogger's Note: I felt tears running down my cheeks while writing this piece. My doctor just called to inform me that all my tests came out good. I had to call a friend - and of course, I had to wake him up - sorry bout that Dr. McFitch.

Waiting

Hey you,

When all of this is over, you know that I'd still be around.

And I will care. And I will love.

And I will be there for you.

Hey you,

Try to look my way for a change.

Even for a bit. Even for a while. Even for a few weeks.

I just want to be happy. Again.

Hey you,

I miss you so much. Even if I hardly know you.

Even if we haven't met. Even if you're somewhere else.

Even if you still love someone else.

Hey you,

Whoever you are. Wherever you may be.

I'll be waiting.

I'll just be here, stranger.

One of Those Days

The season has indeed changed.

I woke up just before lunch and I had nothing planned out for the day. So I cooked and I cooked some more. And after several hours in the kitchen, I had concocted a couple of pasta sauces and invented some things that would be kept long in the freezer. This is my therapy - I cook when I feel sad and today, today is one of those days.

And then I cleaned and I cleaned some more. I did the laundry. Hung the paintings. Organized the closet. Cleaned the bathroom. Scrubbed the tub. Vacuumed the floor. Wiped the windows. Cleaned the mirrors. Nothing. It was still one of those days.

And then I realized that today is exactly three months since I had left Manila. I have never stayed away this long for any of my past travels. Needless to say, I have never stayed away from home this long either. So that explains it.

I miss home and I miss my friends. I miss being just being able to just call anyone as I please and without consideration of timezones and overpriced international call rates. I miss Jollibee. I miss Ministop. I miss taho. I miss just being able to hang around in Starbucks until the wee hours in the morning. Starbucks (and everything else) seems to close at eight here. I miss a lot of things. I miss a lot of people.

I hate days like this. I hate it when I feel a little less happy. But this is my reality.

And this is just one of those days.

Not Your Ordinary 9-11 Post

I can still remember that room - it was so small that it can barely fit in the two double deckers and four guys. But I lived there. I shared the room with a security guard, an unemployed deaf mute and a construction worker. And I, I was a kid. I was kid who was just fresh out of college. I had recently gotten myself a research job in a government project that was based in QC and since I did not have relatives in the metro, I lived close to a college friend's house in Mandaluyong.

I can still remember that day - it was September 11, 2001. My room in Manda was barely lit at around 9 in the evening and I had just come home from the mall where I had dinner by myself. I was lying in bed and I was thinking about the future - where my bunk bed life would take me years later - when my then "ultra low end" phone beeped. I opened the message and I was shocked, well I think I was. It read:

" A plane crashed into one of the twin towers in NY. Terrorist attack."

It was news. No wait, it was really big news. I barely had an idea how things would change after that night. I never expected that airport security would be tighter. I had never even been on a plane by that time so I was clueless. I had no idea that this would change the world - its economy, its outlook, and its people. I received several messages on the same topic after that and I found myself praying. I remember praying for the people who died that day. I remember also praying for, yes, world peace. But more importantly, I recall praying for myself.

Who wouldn't? I was twenty one. I had just gotten myself a job. I had a family that needed to be brought out of the shit we were all in. I had no money. I barely had credits in my phone to call and check what had happened. I was so dirt poor that I did not even have a TV in my room to watch the news in - not even a radio for crying out loud! I was still trying to figure out where my life was going and then this?

I can still remember that day - it was September 11, 2001. I had no idea that 9-11, as it would later be referred to, would change me. On my bed, in a small dark room, on 9-11, I firmed up all my plans for the future - where I am going to be in 10 years time and how I would get there the soonest. It was the day when I took hold of my life and said to myself that I will no longer be in that shit ever again. It was the day when I refused to be poor any longer.

For many people, 9-11 was a story of grief and sadness.

For me, it was the day I changed my life.


Blogger's Note: Eight years later, I found myself sleeping in a comfortable bed in a very big room, far from the small room that I lived in when I was twenty one. I am also in the place where 9-11 is more than just date. I guess I did well.

Suck and Blow

Healthy living is definitely not my style - the moment I stopped eating junk and started living clean, I got sick. Ugh. So anyway, today, I had to skip to the clinic to undertake some tests. I had done a few in the morning and last stop was the pulmo appointment. My doctor suggested that I take this test since I had already (and recently) quit smoking.

I got to my appointment early enough to look around. No one was cute enough to flirt with so I started reading a book. I finally heard my name. When I looked up, there was a guy. He was a guy - a good looking guy - a good looking black guy. Delicious.

"Hi, how are you doing?", he said as he greeted me.

My eyes rolled but I smiled and said:

"I'm good, thanks. How are you today?"

He replied and off we went to the testing room.

"Here's how it's gonna go Tristan... ", he started explaining.

"You put this in your mouth...", he said as he pointed at a device.

"You pinch your nose using this thing...", he said as he handed me a nose pincher.

"And then you breathe in through your mouth... ", he continued.

I nodded. It was simple enough.

"And then you blow hard. Hard blows, okay? Let all the air out.", he ended.

I looked at him and laughed.

"You know what K... under different circumstances what you just said would get us somewhere", I quipped.

And, as if on cue, K laughed like crazy.

Blogger's Note: As it turns out, my breathing is perfectly fine. But, I still need to be tested for allergies so, yes, I'd be seeing him again. He said that he's gonna ask me to suck and blow again when I come back. I can't wait. Giggles.

Tristan's Song

I have been feeling a bit under the weather the last few days - I guess the change of seasons has finally caught up with my fragile Filipino body. Haha. My doctor suspects that I have managed to develop an allergy this early (they say it's normal for newcomers(!) to develop amazing allergies to practically everything foreign...) but my guess is that since I quit smoking a month ago, cold turkey, I may just be allergic to clean air. Haha.

Anyway, in between medical appointments, catching up on sleep and trying to stay healthy, I have been quite busy with online shopping, shopping sprees and other social activities (read: more shopping). I have also been busy with "being a friend" (ang showbiz, haha!) but, there's a catch - and this song perfectly sums it all up.

Listen to this, it's really cute and appropriate. It goes a little something like this:

So to you, thank you. I guess you might not even realize that you actually make my life less miserable. But, seriously, you do. I really appreciate it and I hope to finally see you soon. Take care.

Who am I Wearing?

"Everybody line up, the show is about to start!"

I smell of CK, Abercrombie, Lacoste, Bulgari

And, of course, my favorites, Cool Waters and Armani

Citrus with a hint of fruit, I guess that's me.

I so love colognes. I do. Seriously.

"You have to show a look, have a look or give a look."

I walk Italian - Bruno Magli.

Kenneth, Tommy, MK and Steve Madden - yes, they all fit me.

But comfort trumps style when it comes to shoes

So secretly, Crocs, Sketch and Hush are the ones I'd still choose.

"Beauty has a price."

My shirts are Arrow, Van and CK. Banana Rep is not far away.

Suits are KC, CK, DKNY - no they're not pay-kay.

I love Ralph Lauren and my Alfani slims

And yes, they're all from Macy's, sue me.

"Who are you wearing?"

But it doesn't really matter; I just have my reasons.

Because if I were to advance in my jungle, this is what I have to do.

Power dress - I really have to - and by all means.

So that soon, I'd also be up there dining with kings.

Blogger's Note: I have been told that I should dress for the job I want and not for the job I have. Now let me see how well this works.

Am Ready to Fall?

Autumn will not officially start until a couple of weeks from now but, this early, the signs are everywhere - mornings are chilly and days are cooler; the leaves have started to turn brown and orange and soon, they will all fall from the trees; and yes fall fashion is in the malls. The season is about to change and yes, it's time to once again say goodbye to summer. Finally.

This year, I have had two summers - both of them filled with goodbyes and then some. So generally, I am not as amused with summer this year as I had been the last twenty plus years of my life. There you go.

My first summer started off extremely well but eventually ruined my life - well not exactly, it just changed me on many levels. Luckily, I was able to move to a different country just before summer ended in the Philippines. I was actually hoping to be spared from the summer heat when I moved to the States but, guess what, when I got here it was, once again, summer. Tough luck, I guess.

I am hopeful that the change of season would bring with it a change in perspectives. I am also hoping that, much like the shedding of the leaves, autumn would provide the opportunity to let go of all the remaining emotional baggages and shed off all frustrations (and, for me, a few more extra pounds). Let this season heal all wounds so that we may be ready for the coming of winter which, I have been told, holds a lot of promise.

So am I ready to fall? I most definitely am. Bring it on.