Deja vu

Today feels like a few years back, when my emotions were on a spin because of my confusion as to where I am exactly in your life. It’s been days since I last saw you, and much as I hate this confusion, I do not feel the need to run after you the way I did, years ago. You’re mad at me, I get it. The reason is vague, but coming from you this is nothing new. This time, though, there will be no apologies from me. I may not know the real reason for this outburst, but I am certain that I’d done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment.

So while today feels so much like a few years ago, this time I can confidently turn to myself and say, "Hey, you didn’t f**k up."

I can be as silent as you are. After all, I learned from the best. 

I know him so well

continuation of previous post

‘N’

I met N in 1996, when things between me and T were getting sour. We agreed to meet after briefly talking on the phone. This first meeting caused me alarm. When I first saw him, I had some sort of a vision. I saw my old self reflected in his eyes; we were old together. Of course I didn’t tell him this.I was, after all, in a relationship that time, while he was just looking for someone to talk with regarding his emerging gayness. But he was so beautiful. I never cared for fair skin but he carried it so well. I could spend the whole day looking at his curled hair, high forehead, and wide eyes. Before we parted, the brashness of his question surprised me that for a few seconds I didn’t know what to say. ‘What are your expectations on us,’ he asked.

‘I think clearly we can be friends,’ I almost stammered. ‘And then?’ His eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘Let’s just take it from there. See where it goes.’

We became lovers about 2 months after that initial meeting. It was a long distance relationship because I was in Manila while he lived and worked in Nueva Ecija, a 3-hour car ride north of Manila. But we made it work. We’d see each other every Saturday, spend the day and early evening together, then I would sneak him into our house at midnight for some hot sex then he would sneak out of our house at around 4AM and he’d drive back to Nueva Ecija. This arrangement worked for a while but soon things got a bit complicated. He wanted to spend more time with his friends, which I resented but chose not to tell him.

Things got to a head when he broke up with me after 6 months. I was devastated; I cried for days. However, less than a month later, we found ourselves talking again. Talking was followed by sex. We decided to give it one more try. The second time was more peaceful for both of us. Up to now, I don’t know why. By this time I was already out to my family. He had been to my house many times, striking friendships with my mother and aunt. We were both happy. But our relationship wasn’t going great; it was okay, but not great. N wanted to explore his new-found sexuality further. I, however, felt I wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of him ‘exploring’ while he was with me. So we mutually decided that it was probably best that we ended the relationship and be friends instead.

And such friendship it became. It was difficult for me to be friends with him, because of my feelings. To be fair, N also makes me feel that he cares for me, even now. It was his persistence that kept it going, until now. N was my muse. I have written more than a hundred poems that were inspired by him and he haunts many of my works of fiction as well. And my vision? Both of us are just 34 years old; we have a long way to go.

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I remember the boy

The idea for this post had been circling my mind for some time now. The catalyst, however, came after reading Mandaya’s post called ‘Chasing Pavements’. This particular post made me smile and tugged at my heart at the same time, reflective perhaps of the tragi-comic elements of a physical and emotional relationship between men.

Since 1994, I’ve been seriously involved with 5 men, including my current partner. To me serious involvement meant a mutually monogamous relationship, with all the trimmings and strings attached. In between relationships I’d been known to actively engage in sexual dalliances with strangers. I am what others would call a serial monogamist. In the last 8 years, this tenet has been challenged in many ways, and as a result, this has changed me and my views on relationships in many ways also. To illustrate my point, let me go back in time to tell you something about my 5 lovers.

‘V’

I met V in National Bookstore around late 1994. I’d just graduated from Nursing, was reviewing for the Board exams when I met him. I was in that mall to meet my friends so we can buy tickets for the first major concert of the Eraserheads at the Folk Arts Theater. Arriving early, I was browsing in the Philippine books section when I saw this lanky, skin-headed guy in white shirt and tight jeans–totally butch–secretly reading Ladlad. The anthology of Filipino gay writing. I assumed it was Ladlad because of the pink cover. I stepped closer to confirm and yes, it was. I pretended to be looking at the titles nearby before softly saying, ‘That’s a good book.’ He looked at me. He had soulful deep-set eyes and a high forehead. ‘You have it?’ I nodded, smiling. ‘You bought it?’ I nodded again. He seemed in awe that I found no trouble admitting this fact to him. In truth I was also terrified out of my wits while I was paying for this book weeks ago. I was afraid someone I knew to see it on me.

So we started talking and then he invited me for a cup of coffee at French Baker until it was time for me to see my friends. He sweetly asked me if I wanted to ditch my friends so we can continue our conversation in the coffee shop. I relented by meeting my friends, giving some excuse that I needed to go back home immediately, and leaving them my money for the concert tickets. We talked in the coffee shop until almost 8PM and made an appointment to see each other again the next day. And the next.

V was my first real boyfriend and I was his first also. We lasted 10 months. Our relationship became un-manageable because both of us weren’t ‘out’ so there was a lot of hiding and it was absolutely stressful for the 21 year-old that I were at that time. There were also a lot of secrets from his side, which I couldn’t stand. Sex was awkward, but we tried hard to work out our choreography, so to speak. I will always remember V for writing the longest and sweetest love letters. 3 pages minimum; written in florid Tagalog, even if he is from Pangasinan. Also, he cried when I broke up with him. I cried a lot while we were together so I guess we were even.

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Send in the clowns

I have written in this blog that clowns and mascots terrify me. There is something sinister about that painted smile, those garrish clothes and above all, that false cheer that they evoke and represent. My friends think that this ‘irrational’ fear or dislike could have resulted from a repressed childhood memory or from watching too much horror and suspense-thriller movies with bad clowns. While it is true that, being a horror-genre buff, I have indeed seen and read a fair share of films and books with clown baddies, I don’t think it’s the main or real reason for this feeling and attitude towards clowns and mascots.

A few years ago I discovered that some of my cousins share this quirk of mine. It was one of those children’s parties held at fast-food joints to minimize the logistical hassles of holding the party at home. The parents of the celebrant were close friends of my family. In fact, I am one of the god-fathers of the child. So while the adults (including me) were casually wolfing down burgers and pieces of fried chicken, the children (my younger cousins included) were busy running around the play center strategically placed in the middle of the room. When Ronald McDonald barged into the play center and gleefully greeted the kids, two cousins of mine ran to their respective mothers as if the devil himself was chasing them.

Could it be that it runs in our family? As it turns out, it does not. I came across this bit of news in the internet a few days ago:

Don’t send in the clowns

Wed Jan 16, 8:32 AM ET

Bad news for Coco and Blinko — children don’t like clowns and even older kids are scared of them.

The news that will no doubt have clowns shedding tears was revealed in a poll of youngsters by researchers from the University of Sheffield who were examining how to improve the decor of hospital children’s wards.

The study, reported in the Nursing Standard magazine, found all the 250 patients aged between four and 16 they quizzed disliked the use of clowns, with even the older ones finding them scary.

"As adults we make assumptions about what works for children," said Penny Curtis, a senior lecturer in research at the university.

"We found that clowns are universally disliked by children. Some found them quite frightening and unknowable."

(Reporting by Michael Holden; Editing by Steve Addison)

See? But this did not sit particularly well with clowns. And they reacted. With this:

Clowns say kids do NOT find them scary 

 
Fri Jan 18, 9:37 AM ET

Unhappy clowns from around the world say a study that reported that children didn’t like them has wiped the big smile from their faces, and have been falling over their large shoes to put their case.

A poll by researchers looking at what decor to put in hospital children’s wards found that youngsters do not like clowns on the walls and even older ones think they are scary.

"We found that clowns are universally disliked by children. Some found them quite frightening and unknowable," said Penny Curtis, senior researcher at the University of Sheffield which questioned 250 children aged between four and 16.

But their findings, published in a nursing magazine on Wednesday, has put the red noses of the clowning community out of joint.

In a deluge of emails to Reuters, they say they misrepresent just how popular they really are.

"The ‘universe’ of 250 children used for the Sheffield University study was miniscule compared to the 250,000 one-to-one bedside visits made by Clown Care to hospitalized children annually," said Joel Dein, director of communications at the Big Apple Circus in New York.

The Clown Care programme has involved two million hospital bedside visits since it began 21 years ago, employs more than 93 professional "Clown Doctors" and has been copied across the world in countries such as Italy and Brazil, Dein said.

Other individual clowns pointed out how much children, especially those who are ill, are cheered by them.

"I have clowned in hospitals, nursing homes, schools, day care, corporate events ,telethons and am a part of many charity events," said Elaine "Daisy D.Dots" Vercellone, who has been clowning for 21 years around New York.

"It gives people, kids and adults a reason to be silly, to imagine and gives their minds a vacation if only for a moment."

Heather Myers, aka PipSqueakTheClown, said while many of those in hospitals and nursing homes appreciate their fun antics, there are of course those who are scared.

"There are those who are afraid of clowns, this is unavoidable, the same way that there are those afraid of dogs and spiders," she said.

"It is the responsibility of the clown to know his environment, and take the necessary steps when confronted with a phobia."

(Reporting by Michael Holden; Editing by Steve Addison)

So there. But whatever the argument, I don’t think my feelings about clowns and mascots are going to change soon. If I can’t adequately explain this, I’ll leave it as that. For now. 

Sing

I’d been nursing a fever the whole day, feeling all mopey and generally un-well. Doing this took my mind off my aching body and fever. So a big thank you to johnnypanic for this interesting blog game.

The instructions are simple.  Follow these quick, easy steps to make your own band:

01. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first article title on the page is the name of your band.

02. http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album.

03. http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/
The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

04. Use your graphics program of choice to throw them together, and post the result as a comment in this post. Also, pass it along in your own journal because it’s more amusing that way.

So now, I’d like to introduce my band, Bad Apples Excuse and their smashing record, Of Bleeding, He Sings.

Based on the album title and cover, which has a genuine retro feel, it would seem that my band is an emo-alternative band where each member wears guy-liner (eye-liner for guys) and almost every song uses a cello or violin, or a rock band that blends surfing music and 70’s glam rock and whose songs always use a line or two from the poems of Allen Ginsberg.

Try it and tell me about your band!