I have this teenage crush on someone again. This song is for him.
Keep smiling. Whenever you doubt yourself, remember that you have a guy who thinks you’re beautiful.
Still in the business of making people cry
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
[Repost] Top 10: Disgrace To My Stereotype
[Reposting from my old blog.]
There are certain things people expect from you when you're gay. Of course, we're not required to follow the labels. But sometimes, it gets a bit frustrating for me when I try to do things that should come naturally for gays and yet seem so hard for me.
Top Ten Reasons Why I'm a Disgrace to My Stereotype
10.
I can't sing well in falsetto. My gay friends would always belt out Regine Velasquez, Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston songs when we sing in videoke. I tried it a few times and it didn't sound good. And dammit, it hurt.
9.
I look awkward when I dance in clubs. My "dance" involves raising my arms and flailing them around while trying to shake my hips. A girl friend told me that I looked like a sleazy dude when I danced. My ex told me I looked like a monkey.
8.
I don't know how to use make-up. Heck, I don't even know how to powder my face. I always ask someone else to put them on me.
7.
I am always late when it comes to gossip, be that celebrity gossip or real-life. This was what made one of my friends actually tell me that I was disgrace to my stereotype. I was shocked when they told me that two of our batchmates were already together. Apparently, they had been together for a couple of years already.
6.
I don't dress well. You'll almost always see me wearing a shirt, jeans and dilapidated shoes.
5.
In relation to #6, I don't enjoy watching fashion TV or reading fashion magazines. I am just absolutely clueless when it comes to fashion. I watched "Launch My Line" once, and the clothes I thought looked good were bashed by the judges.
4.
I'm a slob. My room has clothes strewn across the floor. There are coins and empty cigarette packs in every corner. When I finish eating junk food, I just put down the wrapper and leave it there until I decide to clean up, which usually happens once every week. And I sleep on the floor.
3.
I am no good at giving blow jobs. I tire after ten bobs. My jaws start to hurt after two minutes. Um.. Yeah.
2.
I feel really uncomfortable using gay speak. I use "friend", "teh" and "kebs" and I just recently started to use "chos", but full-blown gay speak (example from badinggerzie: Witchelles naman akey nalurkey nang bonggang-bongga) is beyond me. I try, but it is always badly-delivered.
1.
I don't have gaydar. A person will have to tell me outright that he or she is gay. Otherwise, I won't have a clue. Yeah, even our trans friends. I always mistake them for biological females.
There are certain things people expect from you when you're gay. Of course, we're not required to follow the labels. But sometimes, it gets a bit frustrating for me when I try to do things that should come naturally for gays and yet seem so hard for me.
Top Ten Reasons Why I'm a Disgrace to My Stereotype
10.
I can't sing well in falsetto. My gay friends would always belt out Regine Velasquez, Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston songs when we sing in videoke. I tried it a few times and it didn't sound good. And dammit, it hurt.
9.
I look awkward when I dance in clubs. My "dance" involves raising my arms and flailing them around while trying to shake my hips. A girl friend told me that I looked like a sleazy dude when I danced. My ex told me I looked like a monkey.
8.
I don't know how to use make-up. Heck, I don't even know how to powder my face. I always ask someone else to put them on me.
7.
I am always late when it comes to gossip, be that celebrity gossip or real-life. This was what made one of my friends actually tell me that I was disgrace to my stereotype. I was shocked when they told me that two of our batchmates were already together. Apparently, they had been together for a couple of years already.
6.
I don't dress well. You'll almost always see me wearing a shirt, jeans and dilapidated shoes.
5.
In relation to #6, I don't enjoy watching fashion TV or reading fashion magazines. I am just absolutely clueless when it comes to fashion. I watched "Launch My Line" once, and the clothes I thought looked good were bashed by the judges.
4.
I'm a slob. My room has clothes strewn across the floor. There are coins and empty cigarette packs in every corner. When I finish eating junk food, I just put down the wrapper and leave it there until I decide to clean up, which usually happens once every week. And I sleep on the floor.
3.
I am no good at giving blow jobs. I tire after ten bobs. My jaws start to hurt after two minutes. Um.. Yeah.
2.
I feel really uncomfortable using gay speak. I use "friend", "teh" and "kebs" and I just recently started to use "chos", but full-blown gay speak (example from badinggerzie: Witchelles naman akey nalurkey nang bonggang-bongga) is beyond me. I try, but it is always badly-delivered.
1.
I don't have gaydar. A person will have to tell me outright that he or she is gay. Otherwise, I won't have a clue. Yeah, even our trans friends. I always mistake them for biological females.
Monday, April 18, 2011
If I Die Tonight,
will you remember me...
...as the blogger who opened up his heart and poured out his rawest emotions or as the blogger who just didn’t know when to stop?
...as the amazing online avatar you admired so much or as the weak and flawed person he turned out to be?
...as a guy who gave you a chance or as a guy who led you on?
...as your best friend who always stayed at your side or as the jerk who was only there to take advantage of your kindess?
...as your cousin who was intelligent enough to get into good schools or as the stupid cousin who took six years to graduate from college?
...as the teammate who still did his best to perform even when his life was falling to pieces or as the teammate who allowed his personal life to interfere with his work?
...as the guy who tried to understand the things that you loved or as the guy who just didn’t get any of them?
...as someone who took the risk to date you or as someone who didn’t risk enough to be yours?
...as the boy you shared your best years with or as the boy you wasted your best years on?
...as the brightest boy in the family or as the son who still fell short of your expectations?
I always thought that people will remember only good things about you after you die, but the unexpected death of a cousin proved me wrong. There were a few mentions of how she was a good person and how she will be terribly missed, but most of the people in the family gave more weight on how her life was a waste. Sure, she made plenty of bad choices and her life fell apart. I’m not saying that we should just overlook that part. I just wish they could also look back on how she did her best to pick up the pieces and put everything back together. She did her very best. It’s heartbreaking that it was that part that they chose to leave in the back of their minds.
I wish people would give more credit to effort. And that they remember us for the good people we tried to be, even if we didn’t quite make it.
...as the blogger who opened up his heart and poured out his rawest emotions or as the blogger who just didn’t know when to stop?
...as the amazing online avatar you admired so much or as the weak and flawed person he turned out to be?
...as a guy who gave you a chance or as a guy who led you on?
...as your best friend who always stayed at your side or as the jerk who was only there to take advantage of your kindess?
...as your cousin who was intelligent enough to get into good schools or as the stupid cousin who took six years to graduate from college?
...as the teammate who still did his best to perform even when his life was falling to pieces or as the teammate who allowed his personal life to interfere with his work?
...as the guy who tried to understand the things that you loved or as the guy who just didn’t get any of them?
...as someone who took the risk to date you or as someone who didn’t risk enough to be yours?
...as the boy you shared your best years with or as the boy you wasted your best years on?
...as the brightest boy in the family or as the son who still fell short of your expectations?
I always thought that people will remember only good things about you after you die, but the unexpected death of a cousin proved me wrong. There were a few mentions of how she was a good person and how she will be terribly missed, but most of the people in the family gave more weight on how her life was a waste. Sure, she made plenty of bad choices and her life fell apart. I’m not saying that we should just overlook that part. I just wish they could also look back on how she did her best to pick up the pieces and put everything back together. She did her very best. It’s heartbreaking that it was that part that they chose to leave in the back of their minds.
I wish people would give more credit to effort. And that they remember us for the good people we tried to be, even if we didn’t quite make it.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Not Built For Casual
“Kung naging payat ako, ang landi-landi ko siguro.”
I remember saying that when I was still very overweight. That’s “very overweight” as opposed to just “overweight”, which is my current state. It was during my second year in college and I was rationalizing why it was so difficult for me to trim down. I said God probably knew that I would sleep around if I had the looks and the body for it. Yes, I still believed in a god back then.
I had friends who seemed to change their boyfriends faster than the moon changed phases. They’d come to me and gush about a guy they met in a chatroom or bus or party who was sooo cute and sooo charming. Then, after a few days, I learn that they’re already dating and that they couldn’t be happier. But it’s not long before they come back and tell me that things didn’t go well with the guy and that they broke up, but it’s okay because they met another guy in another bus or another party.
I usually told those friends of mine that they would never find happiness if they kept throwing themselves at every guy they met. I told them that they were throwing away their dignity and putting their hearts and bodies at risk. You know, standard stuff one says to someone who he thinks is whoring around. I never convinced any one of them, though. It’s probably because I didn’t entirely believe what I said either. It’s because behind every shake of my head and every word of disapproval I threw at them, the truth was I envied them.
I was never the good-looking boy. My weight was several pounds above normal, I wore glasses that left scratch scars on the sides of my puffy face, I wore clothes that were two sizes too big and I had the temper of a rabid dog. I was a fat nerd. At that time, the only sexual encounters I’ve had were those three times I groped and blew sleeping straight guys, which is just plain pathetic when compared to my friends’ exploits.
I wanted to experience those things that my friend told me in their stories. Locking eyes with someone in the street and ending up in his place doing him and his three roommates, hooking up with an almost-famous actor you met in a networking site, riding a bus and seeing the guy beside you flash you his number while his girlfriend slept on his shoulder: I wanted those too. To hell with morals, I wanted to get laid, but my looks were my greatest impediment. In a world where love was often referred to as a trade and everyone was assigned a market value, someone like me always got left in the outskirts.
Then something happened. I lost a big chunk of my weight (though not on purpose), my friends started teaching me how to not dress like a nerd and I started to gain some self-confidence. It was like an accidental makeover that spanned months. I started to slowly move towards the center. And true enough, I used those newly-gained cards to explore. I got my own taste at express relationships: two weeks with my first boyfriend, then two months with my second, whom I actually wasn’t attracted to and was just my mean-time guy. I started catching up on those stories that my friends told me.
But then something else happened that cut my exploits short: I met a great guy who I fell hard for and who liked me back. Yes, I’m talking about THE ex. I stopped fooling around and settled down with him.
Being in that relationship was great. I experienced love beyond everything I hoped it to be. But the thing was, after a couple of years, I started wondering if I had given up my freedom too early. And yes, part of that was because of my “adventure phase” getting cut short. After a couple of years, I started to cheat.
I went to cruising hotspots. I locked eyes with random strangers in the street. I let the guy with the gym bag feel me up in the train. I flashed my number at the guy next to me in the queue for movie tickets. And every single one of those led to one kneeling in front of the other. It had been years since those days that I called my friends “whores”, and I was already the one whoring around. It felt great. There’s nothing like seeing a guy (or more) kneeling front of you, worshipping at least one part of you, to boost your ego.
But the fun didn’t last long. After a while, I started to feel weighed down, with each tryst adding more and more weight. It just didn’t feel right anymore. Sure, the sex was still great, but once the fluids have been expelled and the pants and gasps have subsided, all that’s left is a sinking feeling. I remember going home from a threesome once and saying to my friend “What am I doing with my life?” I joked that I wanted to go home, turn on the shower and scrub my body while crying, much like rape victims in movies. It was just a joke, but I actually did it when I got home, minus the crying part.
Then my boyfriend and I broke up because of the cheating. I was free. I could finally go and play to my heart’s content without feeling any guilt. But when I tried going back to those cruise spots, I ended up leaving whenever someone started staring at me. I tried locking eyes with strangers again, but I always ended up looking away. I tried going out with guys whom I knew I could date with no strings attached, but it was me who quit in the end. I just couldn’t do it anymore.
It was the casualness of casual sex and casual dating that drew me into the whole idea of it. It’s dynamic, it’s exciting. And it seemed to be a good source of ego boost, knowing that there was more than just one guy who would want me as a partner in sex or in a relationship. The best part was the lack of pressure to me. In the end, though, it was also the casualness that I couldn’t handle. I thought it was liberating, but it was actually more restricting for me. Some people use it to steer clear of the commitment that comes when they nurture their connections with others. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just that I realized that my heart was not built for that.
I want connections and I want them to persist when we leave the room, or wherever it is that we have sex. I want to actually know more than a guy’s name before I get naked with him. I want to date guys who are at least open to the idea of going into a relationship. Sure, I want sex and I want dates, but my heart wasn’t built with the requisite armor for doing them casually. I thought I wanted to live the lives that my friends took, but it turned out that I couldn’t even handle it. I dipped one foot in and retreated when I felt the cold. In the end, I just wasn’t built for it.
I remember saying that when I was still very overweight. That’s “very overweight” as opposed to just “overweight”, which is my current state. It was during my second year in college and I was rationalizing why it was so difficult for me to trim down. I said God probably knew that I would sleep around if I had the looks and the body for it. Yes, I still believed in a god back then.
I had friends who seemed to change their boyfriends faster than the moon changed phases. They’d come to me and gush about a guy they met in a chatroom or bus or party who was sooo cute and sooo charming. Then, after a few days, I learn that they’re already dating and that they couldn’t be happier. But it’s not long before they come back and tell me that things didn’t go well with the guy and that they broke up, but it’s okay because they met another guy in another bus or another party.
I usually told those friends of mine that they would never find happiness if they kept throwing themselves at every guy they met. I told them that they were throwing away their dignity and putting their hearts and bodies at risk. You know, standard stuff one says to someone who he thinks is whoring around. I never convinced any one of them, though. It’s probably because I didn’t entirely believe what I said either. It’s because behind every shake of my head and every word of disapproval I threw at them, the truth was I envied them.
I was never the good-looking boy. My weight was several pounds above normal, I wore glasses that left scratch scars on the sides of my puffy face, I wore clothes that were two sizes too big and I had the temper of a rabid dog. I was a fat nerd. At that time, the only sexual encounters I’ve had were those three times I groped and blew sleeping straight guys, which is just plain pathetic when compared to my friends’ exploits.
I wanted to experience those things that my friend told me in their stories. Locking eyes with someone in the street and ending up in his place doing him and his three roommates, hooking up with an almost-famous actor you met in a networking site, riding a bus and seeing the guy beside you flash you his number while his girlfriend slept on his shoulder: I wanted those too. To hell with morals, I wanted to get laid, but my looks were my greatest impediment. In a world where love was often referred to as a trade and everyone was assigned a market value, someone like me always got left in the outskirts.
Then something happened. I lost a big chunk of my weight (though not on purpose), my friends started teaching me how to not dress like a nerd and I started to gain some self-confidence. It was like an accidental makeover that spanned months. I started to slowly move towards the center. And true enough, I used those newly-gained cards to explore. I got my own taste at express relationships: two weeks with my first boyfriend, then two months with my second, whom I actually wasn’t attracted to and was just my mean-time guy. I started catching up on those stories that my friends told me.
But then something else happened that cut my exploits short: I met a great guy who I fell hard for and who liked me back. Yes, I’m talking about THE ex. I stopped fooling around and settled down with him.
Being in that relationship was great. I experienced love beyond everything I hoped it to be. But the thing was, after a couple of years, I started wondering if I had given up my freedom too early. And yes, part of that was because of my “adventure phase” getting cut short. After a couple of years, I started to cheat.
I went to cruising hotspots. I locked eyes with random strangers in the street. I let the guy with the gym bag feel me up in the train. I flashed my number at the guy next to me in the queue for movie tickets. And every single one of those led to one kneeling in front of the other. It had been years since those days that I called my friends “whores”, and I was already the one whoring around. It felt great. There’s nothing like seeing a guy (or more) kneeling front of you, worshipping at least one part of you, to boost your ego.
But the fun didn’t last long. After a while, I started to feel weighed down, with each tryst adding more and more weight. It just didn’t feel right anymore. Sure, the sex was still great, but once the fluids have been expelled and the pants and gasps have subsided, all that’s left is a sinking feeling. I remember going home from a threesome once and saying to my friend “What am I doing with my life?” I joked that I wanted to go home, turn on the shower and scrub my body while crying, much like rape victims in movies. It was just a joke, but I actually did it when I got home, minus the crying part.
Then my boyfriend and I broke up because of the cheating. I was free. I could finally go and play to my heart’s content without feeling any guilt. But when I tried going back to those cruise spots, I ended up leaving whenever someone started staring at me. I tried locking eyes with strangers again, but I always ended up looking away. I tried going out with guys whom I knew I could date with no strings attached, but it was me who quit in the end. I just couldn’t do it anymore.
It was the casualness of casual sex and casual dating that drew me into the whole idea of it. It’s dynamic, it’s exciting. And it seemed to be a good source of ego boost, knowing that there was more than just one guy who would want me as a partner in sex or in a relationship. The best part was the lack of pressure to me. In the end, though, it was also the casualness that I couldn’t handle. I thought it was liberating, but it was actually more restricting for me. Some people use it to steer clear of the commitment that comes when they nurture their connections with others. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just that I realized that my heart was not built for that.
I want connections and I want them to persist when we leave the room, or wherever it is that we have sex. I want to actually know more than a guy’s name before I get naked with him. I want to date guys who are at least open to the idea of going into a relationship. Sure, I want sex and I want dates, but my heart wasn’t built with the requisite armor for doing them casually. I thought I wanted to live the lives that my friends took, but it turned out that I couldn’t even handle it. I dipped one foot in and retreated when I felt the cold. In the end, I just wasn’t built for it.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
PLU Blog List Page
And the PLU Blog List page is (finally) up. It currently has thirty-nine blogs. Not bad, considering I only expected to get, like, ten blogs. Plus five more that I was planning to force into joining.
As per Kane’s suggestion, I added a short introduction to every blog, which are actually just their blog descriptions. For those without a blog description, I used their profile description. If you want me to change your blog’s description, or anything about your item there, just tell me.
Thanks a lot to everyone who consented to having their blog listed. I’m going to ask for one more favour. Please link back to the page. That way, the list can reach more people.
Once again, thanks a lot. I’ll be writing sensible entries again soon. Hopefully.
If you want to have your blog added to the list, please leave a comment in that page.
As per Kane’s suggestion, I added a short introduction to every blog, which are actually just their blog descriptions. For those without a blog description, I used their profile description. If you want me to change your blog’s description, or anything about your item there, just tell me.
Thanks a lot to everyone who consented to having their blog listed. I’m going to ask for one more favour. Please link back to the page. That way, the list can reach more people.
Once again, thanks a lot. I’ll be writing sensible entries again soon. Hopefully.
If you want to have your blog added to the list, please leave a comment in that page.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Calling All PLU Bloggers
I'm planning to make a small list of PLU blogs, to be placed in a new tab next to my “About Me” tab.
For those of you who don’t know, PLU stands for “People Like Us” and means gay or bisexual. I first encountered the term here in the blogosphere, but according to Kane, it’s an ancient term.
Why do I want to make this list? Well, back when I was still just a curious blog-reader, PLU blogs were the ones I really enjoyed reading. They gave me a sort of reassurance that there were others going through the same things that I was going through. I think there are many PLU readers who, like I was back then, are looking for blogs that they can relate to, and a list of those blogs could make their search easier. Or at least, in this case, it could help those who stumble on my blog and would want to read other PLU blogs.
But I can’t just go and list down the PLU blogs I know because (1) the blogger may not approve and (2) I could be just assuming that it’s a PLU blog. I have to be sure that the blogger would like to have his blog in a list like that.
So, if you’re PLU and it is okay with you to have your blog listed, please leave a comment with your blog’s URL in it. I’ll really appreciate it. Also, if you can, please help out by telling your PLU blogger friends. I'd like the list to have as many blogs as possible. Everyone is welcome, even non-followers of this blog.
Thanks thanks thanks.
UPDATE: The page is already up, but has been renamed to "Pinoy Gay Blog List". If you want to have your blog added to the list, go HERE.
For those of you who don’t know, PLU stands for “People Like Us” and means gay or bisexual. I first encountered the term here in the blogosphere, but according to Kane, it’s an ancient term.
Why do I want to make this list? Well, back when I was still just a curious blog-reader, PLU blogs were the ones I really enjoyed reading. They gave me a sort of reassurance that there were others going through the same things that I was going through. I think there are many PLU readers who, like I was back then, are looking for blogs that they can relate to, and a list of those blogs could make their search easier. Or at least, in this case, it could help those who stumble on my blog and would want to read other PLU blogs.
But I can’t just go and list down the PLU blogs I know because (1) the blogger may not approve and (2) I could be just assuming that it’s a PLU blog. I have to be sure that the blogger would like to have his blog in a list like that.
So, if you’re PLU and it is okay with you to have your blog listed, please leave a comment with your blog’s URL in it. I’ll really appreciate it. Also, if you can, please help out by telling your PLU blogger friends. I'd like the list to have as many blogs as possible. Everyone is welcome, even non-followers of this blog.
Thanks thanks thanks.
UPDATE: The page is already up, but has been renamed to "Pinoy Gay Blog List". If you want to have your blog added to the list, go HERE.
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