Showing posts with label boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boys. Show all posts

Saturday, August 15, 2009

hottie alert no. 3



lovely bruno di angelis

Thursday, July 23, 2009

i remember the boy series | jeremy part two

I have already resigned myself to this fate : that i would stay forever on the sidelines. As long as i’m part of your world, i’m gonna be ok. I’m gonna be fine, somehow; just as long as i see you smile. Those chinky eyes; those unbelievably spiky hair (oh, my). They never fail to make me swoon. You continue to exist outside my world, day-in, day-out—attending classes in the university, not knowing of my feelings for you.

In my perfect world though, we’re boyfriends already—and we’re already taking things to the next level by talking about introducing you to my parents. We’ve gone on countless dates, under the moonlight, by the sunken garden.. and the grasses there have already familiarized themselves with our bodies’ warmth.

Then one day, there’s this sudden wild talk in the corridors and in the classrooms that you have started courting Janice, one of our classmates in a number of classes we attended that semester. Janice. The regular looking girl. The classroom bestfriend. By her looks, she’s never one to arouse my interest, had i been a bonafide member of the straight male society. So plain. And kinda low on the IQ side, too. How dare you. choosing her over me.

Soon enough, the news that you have been steadily going out with her eventually reached me; and in the coming days, there was a noticeable change of how i related to poor Janice. Where i had been accommodating to her, when she’s asking for help in assignments or projects before, now that i know she’s my biggest competitor, i simply cannot bring myself to be the helpful Pie oh Pah that i’ve once been to her.

Remember the time when we were a group, walking along the acad oval one afternoon? All the others were happily teasing the two of you, on your new-found happiness as a couple. I stood ahead of the pack, walking by myself as fast as i can, eager to be away from the maddening atmosphere of sweet love and its supporters. You probably saw it as just one of my many quirks; i’ve never registered any hint of normalcy back then, had i? To you i might just seem like an overblown kid full of himself and those heavy, heavy stuff contained in books. But now reading this, you already know, this boy had in fact been normal.

He felt.

And bled for you.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

i remember the boy series | jeremy

Jeremy.

Hes the first boy who broke my heart. Well he doesn’t really know about any of the things that has gone on in my teeny bopper heart, really, as I kept our love affair so private; very private in fact, that I even kept everything hidden from him.

Suffer in silence, pie. for even though those terribly boyish smiles, naughty grins and good ole promdi charms send your testicles wobbling inside their sacs, you do not stand a chance of him loving you back. He’s a stunner—though he may deny such declarations coming from other people, but the fact remains that he is—and you’re too much of a butterball for him to even notice.

Oh, yeah. He notices alright, but only in the grades department. In exams you wield thor’s hammer—each strike is sure to crush any and all opponents to smithereens. But you don’t see him as one, do you? Everytime he approaches you regarding an assignment or for help with a project, you melt like a popsicle left in the heat of direct sunlight. Your hands become clammy, your mouth dries up and you turn your head in all directions except for to meet his eyes. That would be terrible. That would be too much. What if he saw you blush? Could you have come up with an explanation to cover for an over-the-top girlishness that seem to descend on you like the holy spirit whenever he’s around?

No. so you stand back, and you observe him from afar, nurturing your love for him in your heart; Watering it religiously like some plant, with glimpses of him from behind the bookshelves, the pc monitors in the computer lab, or from across your chair, in the classroom when you’re sure nobody’s on the look-out. Ahh. Sweet times, sweet times.

To be continued