am i ready?

Revelations, am I ready?!
Funny how this cold November night makes feel like this.
Its Saturday night, an hour from now and Sunday will come…

For the mean time…
I think I am pretty much, more than infatuated…
I think… I’m in love.
But not really.
I really don’t know…

Lately I have been in a whirl of emotions; and it’s stressing me, quite. Just a week ago I was way too happy in welcoming new volunteers into our group. It was really fun expanding social networks, until now, the joy in having new friends is creeping into my veins. And just yesterday, I and a friend had a little bit of a misunderstanding due to a third party whom my friend thought was I. Well, Brent is a common name, I guess. Whoever that fuck was, I’m over it. And on that same day, for the longest time, I have again watched a horror movie with my friends. And this time, my stomach really twisted. I hate that movie! It scared me to the bones! But all those things don’t amount to the thrill my last class had brought to me.

Remember *o*?!
I don’t know if I should celebrate or what but the sign I asked for came true! It damn did come true! I am delighted, I have to admit… I’ll be spending about five months with the person and that would be quite a long time. But above the joy, I am afraid. I promised to tell the significant other how I feel. How I really, honest to God really feel.
Just a semester ago, I was rejected by the girl I tried courting and now I have heard that she’s a new boyfriend. Somehow I’m over that; my real dilemma is my status quo. How will I tell the person? Whom I know, I think I know, have an interest at someone else. Besides, I’m not sure if *o* could see beyond just me, beyond the mere BRENT, I’m not sure if *o* could look not at my social definition but my real definition.

I don’t know anymore, all I know are two things, am afraid and that this is stupid.
I guess I would again start to learn how to turn attraction to mere affection, love to mere friendship.
Revelations? I don’t think I can…
Maybe not now…
Maybe someday…
Someday.

infatuated

I’m infatuated, I think…

Funny how attraction happens; I can still recall posting my love sucks blog entries and now here I am writing about attraction. I just love my life…

I really think am infatuated; or at least, I just think, am attracted. But hey, is there a difference?! I can’t get the person out of my head, most of the time I associate things to *o* and worst, I even think of *o* in the shower! Oh yah, *o* is my problem ass.

Anyway, do you think am really infatuated?! I think I am, I wish I am but the fact is it’s really hard falling for the wrong person at the wrong time. All this time I was begging for love, and now all of a sudden it came down pouring on me. But now here I am victim of the circumstances… how come affection so wonderful is usually felt towards people who are either taken or simply not for you. Life’s a hell of emotions and too many chances; too bad I seem always unlucky.

Well I can’t help it, I just can’t help staring at those beautiful brown eyes, that cute childish smile, and that damn hot figure. Hay, tsong, I’m just way to attracted, way too infatuated, way too in love. I can’t help but sigh. I hate my self for wanting the person so badly, I miss *o* every time I reminisce.

Early this afternoon I saw *o* waiting in line for enrolment, I stayed around for a while, took a stolen glimpse, actually it was a stare. We talked about some enrolment sighs we have, and then bid goodbyes. It was way too casual, but deep in me… I was melting. And now, I’m staring at *o* photos in my laptop; and again I can’t help admiring those cute, chinky, almond, innocent, beautiful, brown eyes! I just love everything about *o*…

But I do hope that this is just an infatuation…
Impulsive, childish, innocent and hopefully temporary.
I just hope…

Oh let me add, early this afternoon I made a promise to myself and asked a sign from God; I said, if ever we become classmates this semester. I’m ready to reveal…

kwentong frenzy

I just turned 18 this year, and it’s funny recalling the kalokohans I did while I was not yet legally allowed to do those things so. I grew up in a very conservative family, a family that has the concept of taboos. And I was educated by conservative nuns, in a school where there is a clear definition of taboos. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that, indeed, the maxim, masarap ang bawal is really true. It’s just way so true, so, so, true.
I remember one of my very first’s kalokohans was getting additional allowance from our own store. The kaha was my huge wallet, no matter how much I get, it’s funny I never get caught. But I think, my deeds were actually known, it’s just that they allowed me to, simply because I’m family. For, well, when our yaya tried getting money from the store, she was sent away. Maybe it was only allowed to family members huh?! I just love recalling those times.



Well let’s get a bit naughtier, it was way back then in high school, a time where the world looks no other but a huge, really huge lab, a world for experiments. It was my birthday and my friends, most of them are my classmates, went swimming. There were booze, but I don’t drink. There was Marlboro, but I tried only once and promised never to do it again. Therefore, what do you think was my TRIP then? Well a few friends of mine share with me the joy in making fun of others. We usually crack jokes, at times, when the spirits are high, practical jokes. This time I was the victim; it was my birthday anyway, maybe give the celebrant something memorable.
I was eating chips and drinking some sodas when my girl friend asked me to come to the center of the pool. It was a huge, blue, ocean inspired pool; no other color dominant, just blue. I moved my way to the center. Then in the middle, she hold my waist, then down to my summer shorts, then to my pockets. The end. That was not it. A friend called her from the pool side, and she moved toward there. There, I was dumb strummed of what was the meaning of the act, so I moved my way to the side. The water was really wonderful. Blue, blue, blue… a perpetuity of blue. Then POP! Orange! Something of mandarin color came out of the water. Then another, then another. As I moved they seemed to increased in number. I checked my pocket, and to my surprise, there it was a box of condoms! Everybody was laughing; I did not realize I was the only person in the pool with dozens of condoms around. It was embarrassing then, but as I reminisce I just can’t stop but laugh. I guess everyone has the right time to be the victim.
Funny but I will always cherish that day, not for the dozen condoms, but for the memories of a special day with the people I just truly care for. People with whom I can simply be just me, naughty and careless, but genuinely loving.

Painful Pleasure

A minute of Pleasure, a lifetime of Pain.

It’s a Sunday, one in the morning. And he is in long pain… after a short and very brief pleasure. What is it that he sees in the naked and the nude, what is it that he hears in the murmurs of making love, what is it that he tastes in the sweat of the seduction, what is it that he feels in the excitation of the genitals; what is it in the pleasure of the flesh that he can’t escape, that he can’t see, hear, taste, and feel the pain in the pleasure?

What does he sees in the curves of the body? Is there anything he sees that you don’t see? What does he hear in the sounds of making love? Is there anything he hears that you don’t hear? Is he insane? helpless?

What does he feel in the peek of the act? Is it joy? satisfaction? Or maybe wholeness? Power perhaps? Maybe pride, maybe fulfilment… They call it pleasure. But is that all?

No, there is more, with the pleasure, there are guilt, shame, and pain; shear pain.

Making love is pleasurable, it’s incomparable. But does the body’s response to it, end with the orgasm? No. With the release, comes pain, shear pain. The passion of the body stops, but the heart starts to ache. Emotions that were heightened subside and the world seems clearer. A drunken man certainly knows how to distinguish being drunk and sober, but he who had just indulged in the lusts of the flesh knows better. There is more to sex than plain pleasure, there is more, there is more.

He wants to free himself from the pleasure, for more than the heavenly peak; there is the long deep fall, hell wise. After the body’s response with pleasure, it is seconded by the temple, there is guilt. Then the soul follows, there is shame. Lastly, the heart… there is pain. Lust can last as short as three minutes, in that time pleasure lingers. But after that, comes the parade of the many more… and it lasts more than the lust. Pleasure lingers short, pain lingers longer. It’s the sad story of sex.

It fulfils the genitals, it hurts the heart. It identifies and affirms gender, it destroys dignity. It promotes fun in risk, it neglects risk in fun. It makes man, man, a lady, lady; and it makes animals out of them. Sex it like this. It gives away pleasure, but it asks for pain in return.

Are you single? Taken by many? Or a tripper? maybe Gay?

Unless you are genuinely, truthfully honest to God, in-love…

There is more to life than the pleasure of the flesh; there is, there is…

Trust me, I know.