Tuesday, March 31, 2009

the fifth station

The Fifth Station : Jesus Receives the Cross

Leader : We adore You, O Christ, and we praise You.
All : Because by Your holy cross You have redeemed the world.

Mt 27:31
When they had finished making fun of Him, they took the robe off and put His own clothes back on Him. Then they led Him out to crucify Him.


Thus reads a part of the fifth station, which I was tasked to read during our office’s staging of The Stations of the Cross this afternoon.

Funny how the fates have seemed to conspire to make me the leader, when I haven’t been very religiously going to church, not like when I was a kid, who didn’t question the rituals and practices of the faith to which I was born in; who didn’t question anything and just obeyed everything. Nowadays I don’t really wear my current take on religion like some badge of honor--sometimes it all just becomes too tiring; sometimes you just want to go back to the carefree old days and throw all your issues to the wind. If only it were that easy.

Funny how of all the stations that could have been delegated to the library, it was this station that I was tasked to read. Funny, because I too, have been made fun of, and made to undergo an ordeal akin at some levels to the crucifixion our Lord underwent. Well I think I just committed blasphemy. And in print, too, dear Lord! Sorry Lord, but that was just how I felt, and still feeling til now, as the Ugly Sick Pig saga still have yet to end formally. Its six-month run all but drained the fire out of me.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, amen.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

midnight voodoo

Midnight strikes. The witching hour begins.

You are in a darkened room filled with tight, glistening bodies. the lone light bulb is in a losing battle with the thick steam that clouds the mind, and heightens the senses. Sweat mingles with heat, heat mingles with intent. You are all three, now: sweat, heat and intent; as you find yourself the pulsating center of that tiny room filled with bodies drenched with lust.

A hand slowly tugs at you from under the covers of your towel; its cadence slowly sending sparks across your body as you moan that first moan. Fingers work your chest, bringing your nipples to the right amount of hardness. Moist lips flutter around your neck and your arms. You arch your back and stare into the mist; it hovers, observing the spectacle below; with you sprawled in royal adoration by your subjects. It hangs suspended, readying itself it seems, for the great dive. A hand grapples with your towel, loosening its hold along your waist—in seconds it will lie limp on the tiled floor; in seconds, higher rituals will commence.

You feel tongues now, playing in the hard, sloping grounds of your chest; rivers of saliva run copiously and freely on your thighs. The mists have come down now, playful, staring at you directly in the eye. It stings. You close your eyes for a moment to hold your ground. Until now this grey entity have not revealed its intents to you—is it another one of your admirers, or another queen bee in this damp and dreary place? Slowly, you open your eyes in time to see the mists parting; deliberately it seems, to reveal the faces of your ardent slaves. Not exactly of prince charming’s ilk; but more like heaving ogres readying for the kill.

In your mind you scream silent screams.

Clock strikes five minutes past midnight. You walk out of the darkened room with the flickering light bulb, still breathing.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

for posterity

18 March 2009

Atty. Chenelyn Kylie
[state designation here]
[state name of office here]

Dear Atty. Kylie:

In reference to Mr. Ugly Sick Pig’s apology letter dated 17 March 2009 which was coursed to your office and copy-furnished the undersigned, I am informing your office that i was delighted with such an unexpected gesture from Mr. Pig’s part. I accept his apology; for who am I to refuse such, if it is willingly given?

Let me be clear though, that accepting his apology does not melt my resolve to have this case seen through until the very end, with its resolution properly administered by your good office. I humbly submit that the findings and recommendations by your investigation team be not dismissed just because I have accepted Mr. Ugly Sick Pig’s apology; i believe that Mr. Pig, repentant though he may be, is still answerable to an administrative sanction caused by his previous actions.

I further submit that whatever the sanction deemed by your office, be reflected in his 201 file for posterity, alongside his apology letter, and this correspondence. Thank you.

Very truly yours,

Pie oh Pah
Administrative Officer, the Dreaming Attic

Saturday, March 21, 2009

the love letter

1 september 2005


to have you in my life is God's proof that love between two men does exist.

i thank God that i do not kiss the stars [in reference to the poem "kiss the stars"]; i thank God because i kiss the star.

happy one month!

i love you, dee!


Friday, March 20, 2009


Wednesday, March 18, 2009

ghosts in the mists

The steam floats like an eerie ghost blanketing you in the gloom. Behind you a lone light bulb flickers, red and unsteady. You squint a little to adjust your eyes; and in the corners of the room, out of the mists, gray figures emerge—huddled like crows drenched in rain, along tiled benches. You shiver. In excitement and anticipation. A lump thickens in your throat, like when you ready yourself for your first sip of black coffee. A hand tugs at you from behind, feeling your waist, brushing past the towel draped so precariously on it. you look behind you to find yourself drawn to the eyes attached to the hands; to that wicked smile that seem to say, “tag, you’re it”. you smile back. He says “wanna go up?” you let him lead you, out of the room of gray ghosts, up, toward that room of sliding adjacent doors. You walk past across endless stares, across vultures perched on their imaginary branches, sizing up each other til the first one gives in. you hear a sudden click and you realize, you are shut in with him--the owner of the hand that tugged at you, closing the sliding door. You clear your throat of that lump, and you fumble for words; while he, smiling still, pulls you free of your towel into his own nakedness.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

off the hook

diga sa sauna continued

“You have a cute smile”.

Imagine receiving that comment from a guy in your Friendster. And you’re not even out.

After getting my number that night, the following nights saw me receiving calls at odd hours from this guy, the “hi” guy at the sauna who introduced himself as marvin. From his calls, I got insights into his own personality that made me all the more squeamish of letting him becoming more personal with me. I dunno if my being too friendly sometimes sends the wrong signals, but I think I’ve stated my point early on with him; that he cannot expect any blossoming of relationship whatsoever with me, except only along the safe lines of friendship.

Though that might be the case, in the nights when his calls interrupted my yoga practice, he continued making advances by telling me of the allure of my smile that night when we were talking at the sauna. This declaration is no longer foreign to me, as friends and acquaintances from the normal world also tell me—even way before making that big shift from my former plus-size wardrobe to normal-sized clothes; I am already aware that my smile, if such a word is apt to describe it, is a killer one. Hehehe.

A bit irritated by this show of affection though, I cut him in the middle of his sentence to ask him straight as to what made him call. He said there is a party in their house and he can’t concentrate with his studies so he just called me up. Uhm, i didn’t get your drift. I’m almost on the verge of telling him straight out that his brain seems to be floating up there with the stars. Instead of taking the ballistic path though, I decided to play clinical psychologist to him and asked him what’s the matter. What followed was an honest-to-goodness pouring out of emotion from a kid who just wanted someone to love him back; a breakup that’s just too recent to be processed and shelved like archival materials, neatly stacked and labeled.

I’m not an ancient, if one tries to compare our age, but seeing that I’m in a much stable place in the EQ department, I volunteered bits and pieces of wisdom culled from an array of recent heartbreaks where I managed to pull myself through (I think). He ended the call feeling light hearted than when we started the conversation; leaving me the drained one. Hehehe.

With that call, I saw a new role; that of being an older, wiser confidante, something that I willingly embraced if it meant getting off the hook. Hehehe. the succeeding calls saw a waning of intensity on his part, his advances altogether stopped; not by me, but by himself. It was when the situation was finally under control that I decided to tell dee all about it. though it might seem an unnecessary move—the emergency having been contained already—I still opted to break it to my dee gently for I believe honesty is a crucial ingredient in any relationship.

to be continued

Friday, March 13, 2009

casual girl

The emancipation project takes a back seat for now. Its better this way than to be a speeding train that cannot be stopped in its tracks.

I originally have as a target, a writing post at another office in our department; for which i already got a marginal note from atty. kimberly telling director chuvakelz that i be interviewed and tested immediately for said post. Acting on said note, director chuvakelz asked me to provide a copy of my resume to our human resource department.

Seeing the magical marginal note, director eklavoo of human resource immediately wrote to chuvakelz stating that i lack the required four years of professional writing experience needed for the post; and for that i cannot be considered—even the magical powers of atty. kimberly’s marginal note on my letter looses its powers at some point.

Though that might be the case, chuvakelz later tells me that there is a position lower than the writing post i was aiming for, but still a notch higher than my current position. The job description: same as what i am currently doing, only there, over the rainbow, i will be much better paid. Plus, there’s an actual chance to be trained for the writing post, so when an opportunity presents itself again, i will be in a much better position to apply for it.

Chuvakelz told me that there is already a casual employee under their payroll targeting said post. Its an established culture in the company that position openings are announced for formality, but in reality, casual employees doing the requirements of said posts are already groomed to clinch em when they are finally approved by the management to be opened. I dunno her reason for telling me such; it might be my credentials, or it might still be the kimberly note—she told me it wouldn’t hurt to have a go for it, seeing that its a ‘level playing field anyway’, in her own words.

Those were her words to me. but doing my research, it seems that the whole office already knows that the position was already ‘meant’ for casual girl; meaning, naipangako na ni chuvakelz. Even my sanggang dikit in that office thinks it so.

But since desperate times, er i mean, krissy times, call for desperate measures, i decided to fight it out with casual girl knowing my college degree is a perfect fit for the job. And so i did my research on casual girl, before plunging head-on with the fight. What i discovered froze me to death.

i turned out that she was the same girl who approached me at the flag ceremony a month ago, encouraging me to apply for a writing post in their office. I mean, i didn’t know her personally—i see her walking along the corridors, a little smile here and there, and that’s it. So to approach me like that—that gesture made me so thankful; because the information she shared to me came at that point in my professional life when i needed it most—a means to fly away from krissy.

But what is the good in flying out of krissy’s grasps if i land in some place else where someone would harbor ill-feelings toward me for having stolen a regular position that was promised to her? Getting that post will not cause her to loose her job. Casual employees in our office are permanent fixtures. They just renew their contracts the minute they expire. But still, a regular post would mean a lot to one’s self esteem, and one’s benefits upon retirement. i know that for myself, as i too, had been a casual employee for three years before getting the regular position i hold now. Its a hard life.

I already decided to wait a little longer. Let casual girl have the post. I just have to toughen my krissy defenses a little more.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

diga sa sauna

"‘isa sa mga tinurn-down mo?’, i just had to reread the message you sent last night”.

Yes. Hehehe.

Gwapo talaga ng dadee ko

Not really. I don’t see myself that way. A lot of guys are far more blessed than i am in the looks department. But i know i have my charms. I’ve capitalized on it many times, especially during the lost years, when i have been desperately seeking someone to spend my life with. Those were turbulent times, indeed; when anyone who ‘d practically show any glint of interest will be dealt with an extreme show of affection on my part. Texts, dinner dates. Then he’ll just ditch you like a used cumrag after a few meet-ups. Three tiring years of dating and bedding men. Then my dee came. someone up there must be really watching over, coz he came when i was just at the point of drowning. sabi nga sa salitang pokpok, panahon na para gumarahe, pie.

The domesticated life is a charmed life. though once in a while, as my ex-friend chinky mae would say, “mader, may mga patay na nabubuhay!” hehehe. nagpaparamdam ba.

This was the case with marvin, a med student i met at a spa a year ago. Now i have been well into the married life at that time—two years with my dee and very much in love. It was at the sauna that i first noticed him staring at me. i didn’t pay attention and just went with my business of melting excess fats by heat when suddenly a voice took me away from my thoughts. It was him, the guy who only had eyes for me. normally in staring situations at the sauna or the steam bath, i stare back poker-faced, hoping it will do the trick of turning them away, to just leave me be with my business. And it usually works. But then this one had a voice. And it said hi. Not meaning to be rude, i returned the gesture and said hello. That was the start of a conversation i don’t usually engage in. He told me right away that he found me “cute”, in his words. Knowing where the conversation is headed, i courteously thanked him but said i’m in a relationship and i’ve nothing to offer him but friendship.

It was a very awkward situation to be in. More so for him than me, i suppose. He had no choice but to take the rejection, and take it well lest the other men in the room take notice if he suddenly made a scene with uncontrolled emotions; but what followed took me by surprise.

Taking my offer of friendship, he asked for my number, which i gave. This surprised me, as i don’t normally give my number to anyone who asks. When i was a regular at a bathhouse in E. Rodriguez, and somebody would ask for my number after an encounter, i usually change a digit so that it becomes useless. But since marvin and i had a lengthy conversation already, and he seemed nice, i couldn’t bear giving out a fake one.

At the back of my mind though, i was already formulating a strategy for neutralizing this potential threat in me and my dee’s relationship.

To be continued

Monday, March 2, 2009

kaya mo pa? : the emancipation chronicles

Voice small and cracking, i tentatively recounted to atty. chenelyn Kimberly the now famous “i will go to great lengths para sirain kita kay [state position here]” line that krissy seductively whispered to my ear in that not-so-long-ago scene of five years, now pushing six. I told him that it was precisely that line, told with so much venom that turned me to this frozen delight; always thinking of that scene before ever taking one single step to self advancement in times of great opportunity, like position openings in other offices.

Hearing this, and being krissy’s superior several notches up in the hierarchy, it was quite understandable that his reaction be “baka naman sa kanya wala lang yon; i mean, we say things pag nabibigla tayo. Ganon din ako. Pag nasabi na, wala na. Baka ikaw itong nagdala ng hurt for that long, and we know its not good”. As a response, I thought of reciting all the things she has been notorious of doing in the office but i decided not to, for fear that it may come across as character assassination. As parting shot, i just told atty. Kimberly that i didn’t have anybody to talk to, as regard this thing that’s been bothering me; i thanked him for lending an ear, and proceeded to get my resume with marginal note from him telling director chuvakelz of [state office name here] to schedule me for an exam to try out for a writing post.

Later that afternoon, my immediate boss who was also pissed off with krissy told me of her trip to atty kimberly’s office to air out her grievances regarding krissy’s diva attitude. Whereas i was able to hold back and keep to myself the litany of sorrows, my immediate boss went to the extreme of telling atty. Kimberly : “e masama naman po talaga ugali nyan, sir. Umabot nga po sa time na pinitisyon yan na mapaalis sa ofis e.

Hearing her gush out in seeming girlishness of her accomplishment that day, i told her “kala mo ba ate, ikaw lang?” then i proceeded to tell her of my earlier trip. I finished the tale by asking her, “hindi naman tayo nag-usap sa lagay na yan, di ba no, te?

Two major points for krissy.