Sunday, November 20, 2011

In Time


A voice said to me. I turned and looked at the cute boy and I smiled, not knowing how to respond.

"Do you mind if I stay here with you?” he requested. “Only until the rain stops.”

I nodded as I looked away trying to dry my eyes with my hanky as quick as I can. When I was ready, I turned back and gave him the most sincere smile that I can conjure.

“Nathan” He said raising his hand for a handshake.

“Silvan” I replied accepting his offer.

“Woah! What a downpour!” He commented as the light drizzle angers to a heavy shower.

It was my first time going back to Malate after we broke up. Like before, it was an invite from my friends that prompted me to go. It’s been months since we parted ways and thanks to my trusted buddies, I finally broke the shell of depression.

Finally, I’m starting to pick up and patch things up in my shattered life. However, the moment I saw that place, that small ministore, I just can’t help stopping where we first found each other. It’s white wall was pulling me, beckoning like a magnet only to facilitate a yearning I’m trying hard to bury deep. Like the make shift tarpaulin shade tied to the tree and the lamp post, I'm still bound to this place. The sudden turn in the weather didn’t helped either.

That's the problem with wounds that hasn't fully healed yet. It gives you the illusion that you are but will easily tear open with the slightest trauma.

That moment I thought I should have stayed at home and read a book or watch a film. I could have avoided these places remembering the times but that would just convey loneliness and that was something that I was trying very hard to avoid also.

"Here with friends?" the guy asked obviously trying to break the cold atmosphere and I don’t mean the weather.

“Me too! I’m late though.”  

“So am I” I thought while reading the SMS I just got received from my friend asking where I am.

“Where are you going?” He asked knowingly as he popped a cigarette and offered one.

“No thanks. I don’t smoke” Again, I tried my best to smile. “My friends are waiting for me at Bed.

“Oh I see!” He was surprised. “Judging from the way you look and talk, I wouldn’t know that you are gay.”

“Uhmmmm…. Thanks?” I replied quizzicaly.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you. It was a compliment.”

“No offense taken.” I said softly.

Now it was his turn to smile.

"I hope you don’t mind me asking. Is anything wrong?" He asked cautious as he puffed the last of the stick in his hand. "Are you all right?"

I watch the clouds squeezes the last of his night shower. It took me a while to respond but I nodded. "I'm just remembering what was and will never be again."

"A broken heart? Sad, but time will heal it. You'll see." He smiled. “ Nice meeting you Silvan. See you around.”
I watch Nathan walk away towards the faint sound of the Malate night life leaving me with Mavié and our good times in my mind. "Yes, a broken heart, and maybe time will heal it."

Tuesday, November 15, 2011


I haven't been asleep for more than an hour when I heard my mom knocked at my door literally bashing my door open.

"Anak may sunog! Get your stuff out of the house!"

I leaped out of my bed half irritated, half dazed. Dragging my feet all day at work, I went straight home today to buy myself some extra forty winks by skipping my after-shift work out. This is the day I chose to lay myself down in my bed hugging my fluffy pillows instead of stretching out on the gym bench pumping iron and here I am in my room, half naked and fully awoken by my mom.

I grabbed an undershirt, my wallet, phone and packed my laptop and my barely used SLR camera in my bag brought it downstairs along with my case of personal documents. I figured that’s all I need in case our house is literally on the line of fire within minutes.

I went downstairs leaping every other step, dropped my stuff in the sofa and went outside and checked where exactly the domicile bonfire was.

At first, it looks far from our house. Upon closer inspection though, I realized that our house might be reached by the blaze within hours. I went back inside our house and wore a short. Yes! I went outside in a sleeveless shirt and boxers. These are one of the rare occasion where you can justify wearing undergarments out in the street. I played the hot guy in sleeveless and boxers who went outside confused by the ruckus around him. LOL!!!

I ask my mom and my sister with my 6 month old niece to go and stay at a family friend living two blocks away from our house while I stayed just in case opportunists decide to take advantage of the uninvited commotion. They brought with them my bag (a little heavier with my baby niece’s bare essentials in it), my case, and my parent’s attaché case.

Just outside our gates, I watch as people carried their belongings frantically away from the fire. From household appliances to cooking utensils, people carried everything that they can away to safety fuelled by the burning scene. They were carrying everything that they have while I asked my mom and my sister to carry a bag and 2 cases of documents.

Thank God for my Dad who recognized long ago the importance of shelling out a small piece of fortune every year for fire insurance on our humble abode... Thank God we didn't have to file for fire insurance claim as well.

So while everything around me is in a state of anarchy with me still cranky from my revoked “R and R” time, I grabbed a pocketful of moment and converted other people's misery into my entertainment by brushing up on my amateur photography skills.

Yes, I’m a heartless bitch! Especially when I’m robbed of some shut-eye and my appointment with my soft, homey bed is canceled.

1 hour later, firemen successfully stopped the infernal destruction dead on its track 2 blocks away from our house. No injuries were reported. Unfortunately, several homes, including a local elementary school were reduced to ash or damaged by the blaze.

Monday, November 7, 2011

The Whore

In my pursuit of the extraordinary act of what is famously known as “moving on”, I joined an old friend’s entourage to the Halloween Circuit Party of the year. Why? Cause I don’t want to be a love whore anymore.

These kinds of revelries, and the rants and raves that goes along with it, is not new to me. In fact, I have considered attending to one numerous times in the past.

That’s the thing though, I only considered it. I always had my eye towards the light but I never had the strength to walk towards it… until now. I thought this is the right time to be a party whore… being single and all. Better be a party whore than a love whore.

The time, October 29th. The venue, World Trade Center.

While there’s an obvious scarcity of parking spaces for the fashionably late, we luckily found an empty lot on the highway isle. We unmercifully climbed over the isle and drove through the grass and plants and made a stop on their flora carcasses that would make Capt. Planet bitch slap our party ass.  

My friend, and designated driver, turned the engine off, faced us and shared a bottle of Gatorade. And in the cover of darkness and coconut trees, we shared among the five of us the funky tasting power drink. As for me, I gulp down my first taste of party drug as I listen to the faint sound of the thumpa-thumpa booming from afar.


I’ve been avoiding this substance but no longer. It’s my final act before crossing the other side. Whether of the grass is greener on that side or not, I have no idea. All I know is I want to escape the state where I am right now.

The World Trade Center was stripped of its monotonous, commercial stature and was transformed into a spontaneous party sanctuary dressed in flamboyant explosion of lights and sounds. The local partizens were no less glitzy in their glamorous costumes.

As we walked towards the venue, I can feel it take effect. My heart beating louder and louder in synch with the succulently screaming sound of the whole center. My head feeling light as feather. My sight deliciously spinning.

We entered the hall into a slightly lit makeshift tunnel built to create an excitement until you reach the other end. And what an amazing sight it was. I feel like I am in one of the queer as folk episode and any moment I will bump into Brian Kinney making out with some hot guy or Michael dancing with Ben.

Everything was so beautiful that I almost cried… the light and sound set-up was overwhelming… I just wanna fucking dance the night away. I feel like I love everyone. But that could have been just the E talking. 

No, it’s definitely the E.

Midway through the good vibes, a revelation: My friend shared that there’s an after party that we are attending and I would appreciate it more than the party itself. Judging from my friend’s grin that spans ear to ear, I knew what is that after party.

Finally, I got my wish granted. From a love whore to a party whore, soon, I will be just plain whore. 16 men, 10 hours, 1 room, 5 rounds of recreational drugs and unlimited supply of condoms and lube. That’s one mighty concoction of libido.

We left for the after party at 4 am and went straight to a Makati Condominium. We were met with another shot of E.

I kissed, sucked, fucked, got sucked, got fucked… all the sexual innuendos devoid of any affection just hot men acting on their raw urges to feast on someone else’s flesh.

10 hours of fucking later, I went home. My mind, body and spirit totally drained out of energy but still elated as the last drops of party fluid works its magic in my system.

In my room I went straight to the bathroom and cleaned myself while waiting for the juice that made me the whore that night to evaporate. 10 minutes later, I’m in my bed awake staring at the ceiling just drunk and high enough to let go of my pride. I can taste the saline as my tears unceremoniously flow from my eyes to my mouth.

That night, I cried myself to sleep realizing that I’m back to where I started only stripped of the remaining innocence that I have tried so hard to protect.

I’m still a love whore.