is there really heaven

When I was still a kid, I was a special kind, all because I was my mom’s son. I was never like the others, I was among the others. I have had special needs – and wants. Am not allowed to go out the house and play under the sun like any other kids, I still remember sneaking out during siestas, when mama is but asleep. I was, well, truly taken great (not just good) care of my mom.

And tonight I really wish she’s alive. I miss mama so much, and I miss being special.

After she passed away, my life really turned around. The kid who was spoiled with everything he needed, and wanted became a pick pocket (yes, I was) and started stealing from people for food. He became much of a disgrace, a dirty disgrace.

Soon after, I was picked up from the miseries of life by my brother, who became my guardian. Though I wish he took a harder hand on me, he gave me a better life. A better future awaits, or so to speak.

But life yet again is testing me, and here I am again, asking if there really is heaven.

Hurt by the turn of events, I have no other choice but to keep a rather stronger heart. It is hard living the life I live, granted that hope is yet again, seemingly, fading away. Kung alam mong isang araw darating yung panahon na mabubulag ka, na maaring iiwan ka din nila, na maaring ang buhay mo ay magiging isang malungkot na kwento – kakayanin mo pa ba? When all you ever wanted was to sing and laugh and cry with your family. When all the things you ever wanted to do was to simply be happy with them, pero mukhang hindi mo na magagawa dahil magiging pabigat ka? Where do you draw strength from?

When all your life gusto mo lang maging okay ka, maging masaya with not much but enough, matatakot ka bang malaman that one day you might not be really be able to even take care of yourself? Masakit isipin ang bawat sa sagot sa mga tanong ko, but day in, day out since September, sila na ang tumatakbo sa utak ko.

There was a time that the pain surged and all I ever wanted was to die, and find out if there really is heaven. Pero takot din ako, at ayokong mamatay nang talonan. I still want to win in life.

Pero may mga araw at gabi talagang gusto ko na lang din sumuko…

and perhaps answer that question about heaven’s existence.

Siguro doon, mas masaya, mas magaan ang buhay.

Siguro doon, hindi na ako mabubulag…

Siguro doon yayakapin akong muli ni mama and tell me it’s alright..

Siguro doon may aakay din sa’kin, sa aking pag iyak…     

(This post was written on a rather emotional phase, pardon my drama, but I just want to let it out)

a not-so-typical gay guy's love story

I am gay – but I once feel in love with a girl.

I have been settled and assured with my gender preference ever since I was in high school. Truth of the matter is, I have really affirmed my gender after a failed attempt to settle with a girl back then. Anyhow, that isn’t the topic of this post, so turning the story; it was during my college freshman year in Ateneo that things went weird.

She was a typical girl, an ordinary pretty lass from somewhere north of Bicol. She was the usual gal, silent a bit but is truly worth talking with should you be given a chance; which happened many times to me (chuckles). She was a hot chick actually, that kind of girl that not all the famous boys would pile up to to court but is definitely someone whom the serious guys with serious intentions pursue. She was the perfect gal to date, she was smart and sensual, funny and God-fearing. She’s a jock when she is around friends and a serious Atenista when times call for one.

I was, well, gay. But during my freshman year it was not given nor clarified. I was more of a guy-with-tendencies, and nobody in our block has ever asked my gender preference –yet. So I was, one of the boys for most of my classmates. I was the silent type, the not-really-very-viral-but-is-a-smart-guy with a zipped up mouth (hahaha). Well for a proper adjective, I was a bit a typical guy with a bit of brains and a silent ground. I was not very comfortable talking with my blockmates initially because am the only one from my school who came into Ateneo. I was like, adjusting really.

When the second semester came and I have adjusted quite well already; she became my seatmate on Psychology. And the rest was history.

I have a crush on a guy from our block, but I also have a crush on her; a thing that never happened to me, ever. It was really weird seating beside her. I get curious and all, all the time. Do I smell like this or do I look like that. I felt like a high school kid trying to impress my seatmate.  

The day came when I decided to try it, to speak up. Valentine’s day of that year I ordered a single rose from my very own organization, which was delivered during one of our major classes, when I was seated quite far from her. Although I wish now that maybe I should have ordered from, somewhere like philfora.com for a more intricate design, but anyhow, that morning, the flower that came in was really something. It was way too simple, but it carried much of my happy thoughts, much of my pagmamahal (hehhe). And up to this day I still recall the feeling.

To cut this short, she then knew how I felt towards her. But, like I have said, I am gay and perhaps she knew am better off as one (heheheh). We’re still friends now and she’s currently taken by someone better than I. He cares for her as much as I have hoped I would also for her.

But life really knows better. I am happy that she’s truly happy now. But I would never forget that day my rose told her everything I was feeling, for at that moment, I truly loved her. (things are different, though, now heheh)  

the truth sets everything free – even ...

There are many things in life that’s hard to express.

Hindi madaling magsulat ng real emotions towards a person you might like, or hate.

Hindi rin madaling sabihin sa taong gustong gusto mo na, well, gusto mo sya.

Kung may sakit ka din tulad ko, hindi din madaling sabihin sa lahat ang mga ayaw mo, ang mga peeves mo – kasi nga naman, arte lang – baka ganun isipin nila.

Kahit gaano ka na kagalit sa gago nyong kapitan o di kaya sa babaero nyong Mayor, di mo naman magawang sabihin sa facebook – try mong maCyber Crime Law.

Maski gustong gusto mo nang umamin kay pudra na wis mo talaga bet ang girl na nirereto nya dahil si pareng George ang bet na bet over to the bones mo talaga, eh kalma lang, baka ma deads pa si papa sakaling mag big reveal ka anytime.

Saklap noh?

I stumbled upon an Instagram post from Ryan Chua days before, and it has this thought.

(see original post here: http://instagram.com/p/gGE-LnQWp7/)

If you all really think that HONESTY is a virtue, why?

Napaisip ako. It got me thinking na baka nga, to be honest is not at all, or always the best way to be.

Come to think of it, there exists bliss in the ignorance of certain things. Perhaps others simply have to put another person into the picture and realize that maybe, just maybe, shutting up is the best. Not saying is the best. It has not always been dishonesty when you are not, well, primarily honest, maybe sometimes it is called being civil, being educated. It is like putting the blinders on, so that not a person outside could see the dirty laundry inside. It is simply, censorship – in a far more complicated way.

I have my share of stories, of MY personal experiences when I simply have not been honest – for the better. It has kept many of my, mostly filial and business relationships intact. I have a few friends with whom I know I have not been truly honest with, but we’re really thick now, so why risk breaking the relationship. In short, I have been wiser, I have to.  

Here is the catch though.

None of my closest friends, as in none, have been DISHONEST with me, nor have I been.

My closest of friends know not everything about me, but everything that stirs concern, no matter how hard it may fall on them, I have never kept. I have a few people in my life that appreciates the brutality of an honest friend, a friend that knows when to speak – and how to.

You see. I think the two sides on this actually give us benefits. Using them well only depends on, who else, but the user. The world is a wonderful place, but it is partly evil for a fact, thus playing with HONESTY is one thing that has no general rule. Granted all these, tantya tantya din ano?

The truth sets everything free – even evil. So speak carefully. 

moments

WE LIVE FOR A MOMENT, 

not for a life time.

This thought has been bugging me, well quite noisier lately. 

In the absence of a clear future for me, 

nothing really comforts but the thought that today, 

at this very moment, 

I could be happy. 

The passing days have been tormenting knowing that most of the dreams I have had are slowly fading with my vision. 

But I take perfect solitude and calm in the thought that this too shall pass. Funny how my opening line came into my mind. I was, of all places, at the loo for you know, and then IT came in. Para san pa nga ba ang buhay ko? There are dreams fading, but now new ones are also getting in. I suddenly remembered my mom and how early she left - and how i survived it. The time after her passing and the moment I have completely moved on. I remember the things I used to cry over with - and how funny they seem now. The funny concerns I have had when I was in high school and how stupid they seem now. 

Life's like that really, sakyan mo na lang. The fears that we have now would all be over and things would be better. 
Cliche, pero bahala na si Batman!   

I am afraid of what life has to offer because I really don't know what's ahead. And then it hit me, who really does know?

TRIP lang ang lahat, kaya dapat chill lang, kalma. 

Mabulag man ako o hindi, maging masaya man ang lovelife ko o hindi, what matters most really is 

how THIS VERY MOMENT is spent. 

As you know, tomorrow might not really any more come to me, so why fret. 

Let's LIVE, let's live in this moment!

***

to life, cheers!

scared to death

There is a cool song from KC Tandingan that belts these words out – in tunes so enduring and sensual I can’t help but feel it, too.

Well, the thing is, I have been scared to death the moment my right eye also suffered from what my left eye had suffered from. Does it scare me to be blind? YES. Does it scare me that my medications might give me its pay back? YES. And am I scared to live in a world where I might become nobody because, well, am sick – and worst, blind? YES.

The fear reaches its peak whenever my medications are low, and my emotion is down. Funny how a friend could turn an entire day around, but in the absence of a friend – or just any soul worth talking with, the emotions turn sour. I really find it funny, for a guy like me, to act like a preggy woman making lihi. Life, eh?

But the fears are actually becoming far more, really, real.

Now especially, that in spite my medications, my eyes seem to be stubborn enough to keep whatever these inflammations are. Sometimes I just really hope that, sige na, mabulag na kung mabulag and let’s have this over with. But most of the time, wag po muna. Wag na po.

It’s past twelve now, and I can’t find the slightest reason to sleep. Aside from because my medication is still in effect, my condition has been reminded to me yet again earlier today. Mahirap din subukan maging masaya kung di mo magawa yung mga gusto mo. This is really the saddest part. Another thing is that my friends, who are all over the world now are living the lives we’ve talked (and dreamed about) once. Asan ako?

Am so scared to death – and I just can’t help but cry.

No more tears are running down, but the pain is still there, and it scares me so much that one day I’d end up losing everything – everything na pinangrap ko.

(breathe in)

Inhale courage (and hope). 

 .

23rd

( I planned to post this on the 23rd of September, my birthday. But for reasons, I thought it might not be, you know, appropriate. But reading it again this afternoon, I have realized, this isn't really much of a self-pity post, it's my life now. so here you go...) 

I planned this year to be awesome – apparently it’s not.

I planned this coming birthday of mine as a blast, something worth remembering, but I guess this ain’t gonna be. I’d rather have a small, but meaningful, birthday celebration here at home. Pansit and some chiffon cake would be enough. But of course, I’d love to hear them sing happy birthday to me. Nothing much to expect; nothing much to look forward to; but should I say this would be my saddest birthday, I’d say no. this would be one of my most meaningful. And yes, this would also be something that’s really enlightened.

My family, the very family I have been so proud of has got issues, has got many little secrets that now I know. My sibs have got their issues too; all of them have got a thing or two that they keep dear to themselves. Others, with others. My niece and nephews are all growing, well, older now. And all of them promise a great future ahead. These things make my family, well, normal. It makes it complete – so perfectly flawed that I love it! These are the things that make my days, lately, full of reflections – and yes, new dreams.

Life at 23 is something that others look forward to. 

But do I have the courage now?      

(sigh) 

in the end...

(c) photo: http://instagram.com/pilyongbrenttzu

Monday The 13th

It's Monday here in the Philippines, and yet this doesn't fall on a rather ordinary day, well at least not in my category. The 16th of September has never been an ordinary day - since my Mom left. 

This year marks the 13th year of our loss. And God knows how much I miss her. The tears I have shed would never be enough, I guess. I just shed some earlier, yet again. Oh well, Mama has never been an easy topic. She was my star and my only hero then, well until now she holds a special place in my heart, and for that being she would forever be the only woman who can make me feel the way I do. 

I remember the last night we spent. Me and Papa were exhausted because of the long day we have had. We were all excited for bed after watching some TV flicks, and Mama was being the usual her, a bit tired, too. Never did I expect that it would be the last of her that I would see - alive and breathing. 

13 years have passed. These years all have had a pain in them whenever my Mama gets to be talked about. I miss her, I miss her a lot. There were times that even during my Junior year, I was still crying over thoughts of her. I guess when your Mom passes away, part of you also passes away. I have felt that, and now, yet again, I can feel it. There would always be that missing piece. I don't care how you might find this post cheesy, or even irrelevant, but this is my way of coping up and hopefully, living a better life - which Mama would have always wanted for me and her family. 

She was our greatest hero - our best friend and worst critic. She was my protector - and my teacher. I have always wanted her to teach me a thing or two. And I would forever be grateful for the moments we have had together. Although my time with her was the shortest, I know in my heart of hearts how much she liked me, how much we loved me. She was never the greatest of mothers, I know, but she did her best to be. And for that, calling her the BEST MAMA would never even be enough. She was more than that.

So days like this really give me a sad thought. Losing her that early was really tragic - but life has to move on and life has simply have to be. Where ever she in heaven, I know Mama watches me with pride and great joy. I might not be the perfect son she have always wanted to be - but I know I make her proud. I know I make her cry too, and laugh and be the mother she has always wanted to be over me. Even in her absence, I have always felt her guiding hands. And for that, I thank her way too much!

This post just really intends to shout to the world how loving my Mom was, my mama is. And for that I'd also like to ask for a little prayer from you, may she continue to be happy in heaven, where the angels and saints; and her Almighty Father celebrates the beauty of life and the life ever after with her.

      

#WeMissYouMama

the heart beats with the wrong tune

It all started with one broken heart, and I guess it would also end with another broken heart.

He, with a conked out heart, wanted some time to think, to breathe and maybe, to forget the pain. With the sun racing towards the horizon, the air started to feel colder, the bright day light slowly turned to bright orange and pink streaks, soon it turned dull, then velvet, sooner the street lamps started to flicker and served as the brightest light around. He was seated for hours that the motorcycle parked near has fallen asleep and the crickets started to chant.

She, with a searching heart, came with a book that comes with the title How to be really really HAPPY. She sat at the bench and for hours read the pages of the book until the sun raced towards the horizon, the air started to feel colder, the bright day light slowly turned to bright orange and pink streaks, soon it turned dull, then velvet, sooner the street lamps started to flicker and served as the brightest light around. She was seated for hours that her shoes had already fallen asleep and the crickets started to chant.

He soon met her. And she, met him halfway.
They’ve met on a windy twilight; this bench knows the entire story.

Soon, he was driving fast to the park and she would wait at the bench. He would cry his heart out, and she, would listen with her heart, slowly being filled up. He talks, she listens, up until the street lamps become the only brightest light around.

Soon, the bench smelled coffee, pizza came in too. It saw some smiles, soon, laughters.
And so, he found her, and she found him.

But alas, she found herself falling.

But, one day as they were seated at the bench, she came – came back.
She has never seen him that happy; but she, found herself never been so sad but now.

He took the drooling motorbike, its engine, alive again, he rode off, with her.
And she, was left with her book and a memory.

Minsan, the heart beats with the wrong tune, 

but that doesn’t mean it’s not the song of love. 

Yakapin ang sakit, at hayaang tumibok ang puso. It’ll grow tired soon, and move on.

the hunter and the hunted

[fiction] originally written: 10.5.10

It was a rainy day and I was on my red hood running through the wet forest floor off to the south were the trees that grows beehives trod. I was running fast that I didn't notice her innocently trying to find her way in that forest, trying to counter follow the track that I am hastily running on. I was hurrying and she was slowing down – then there was a bump. 

Ouch! - and so that’s how I first saw Snowwhite.

I didn't like her for that; she made me roll on the ground and mess my red hood.

But for a while, I got used to seeing her, she found her niche in this forest we were both trying to consider home. Sooner, the forest became warmer, the trees greener and the sun soon was able to kiss the forest ground that calling it a home was meaning it.

Sooner, she found her friends - that included me.

And sooner than soon; she even found the hidden garden where she met this hunter. The hunter was, like all other hunters, rough and tough. But Snowwhite saw the child in him. She saw the beauty his fierce eyes. And sooner than the whole forest dwellers knew, the hunter wooed the damsel who despite her bewitching charm was equally charmed by the man.

Soon, roses grew and the bloomed red.

For long, the hunter and Snowwhite made every forest dweller equally charmed and envious of the love that binds their souls that the world soon revolved around them while the rings bind tighter and stronger.

Until one day, the hunter announced to Pooh and friends that the ring of passion between them has finally died that the roses has withered.

And so here I am, sharing my honey jar with this damsel in distress, seeking the best words, giving her my warmest hugs and trying hard to tell her that the sun shall soon shine while deep in my mind trying to figure out what went wrong.

The hunter hunted the forest’s most beautiful, 

and just like all hunters, left her for another game.

I just don’t understand why others settle for second best.

SONGS from a PIANO

The auditorium looks ghostly, just the way you like it.

It’s almost eight and I know in a while I would hear your songs again. Isn’t it funny, I don’t even know what those melodies are called, but just like you said in our Humanities class, music does communicate better when it’s left nude, I need not hear a word to understand that you have a heart that keeps many secrets, the music you play is enough.

I can still remember that day when you said that, you were seated at the back of the room, denim pants, white shirt and glasses on, you were like the coolest nerd I have ever seem. You were one of those guys, the ones whom I love to listen to in class, the ones that are so mysteriously sexy, sort of.

Since my past relationship, I have never fallen this deep – writing you letters for me to keep, watching you from afar, dreaming of holding your hands. Ah! You’re the biggest joy and pain that my heart had. But I know our situation, you, Adrian Chen, are a university jock, you’re one of those guys that girls here would go crazy for. And I am out of that league, probably nobody to you. We attended the same high school though, but aside from that, I have no other connection with you.

Kaya naman, for almost a month now, I have been doing this. It’s quite pathetic but lurking here at the backstage seems better than watching you play in front of a large audience, your songs here seem more real, more conversational, more meant besides I think there are some songs that you only play here.

These were the thoughts running on my head when I heard that voice, that familiar voice.

‘I would like it better if you stop lurking here, there’s a chair near the piano, I don’t mind having company’

For a moment, or maybe longer, I was speechless.

You know I watch you practice? – was my smartest response.
Damn, I just admitted my crime.

‘Since day one’

Crap! He knows, since day one, that I have been sort of stalking him? My, my, I just want to melt and disappear. But I had to face the situation, and him. I stood and turned around, faced him, who to my surprise was smiling, childlike – a rare thing.

But before I was able to say something, he took my hand. Adrian took my hand! I was breathless.

‘I need no explanations’ – ¬was the only thing he said before he offered me a seat, and played.

I was head over heels. He played ‘I will’ a Beatles classic, a song dear to my heart, a song though which I have never heard from him before.

I have a confession to make. – he said after the song.

To me? I asked.

Yes to you.

You know me? – was my confused response.

Since day one – he smiled, and looked at me in the eyes.

What do you mean? What’ is it you have to, err, confess?

He took a paper out of his pocket, looked at me and started to read.

The paper looked familiar, and I have known why when he started to read.

My T-shirt Guy,

Forgive me for looking at you, from afar.

Forgive me for dreaming of holding your hands.

Forgive me for loving you, hopelessly loving you…

He was not able to finish because I grabbed it off his hands. It was a blog post, at a blog that only my closest friends know, friends I know are not friends with him. Damn, I was really melting then; my eyes were befriending the floor already when he held my face.

Look at me.

I am not good with words, he said, that’s why I play the piano to say things. I play my songs here, where no one hears, where the one I have wrote it for isn’t around. Because just like you, I made sure I would not really be heard. But I was wronged, you were wronged. You have heard my songs, just like I have found your blog.

Confused, I whispered ‘I don’t get it.’ 

Before I fainted, I heard him say –
Gab, I was looking at you first, from afar.

A RARE ROAD (Living with Behcet’s Disease)

If one day you wake up and discover that from that day on, you are to battle against a rare disease that might also one day take away your sight or your sanity; what would you do?

Cry? Perhaps the easiest way would be to sulk and find a little place on earth that could give you the best possible comfort. To quote one of my friends, to find a corner and find warmth, cry and forget about the world- even for just a while.

I did that. Many times I have taken comfort from my little corner on this earth. I have tried to forget its noise, about how painful my coming days are as I have Behcet’s Disease; I have tired to forget about all my fears, all my lost hopes, all these fading dreams.

But the tears would run dry, and in the end, such tears would fuel a fire that would ablaze warmer than you may have ever imagined. The gusto to live and continue, in spite of and despite of all the struggles that living with a rare disease entails, nothing would keep those burning desires.

If there is one new realization I could share from my recent ordeal, it is that;

in LIFE, not everything turn our way. So don’t bring an extra map - instead bring an extra gasoline - and let’s set this road on fire.

It’s all up to us at the end of the day. There are so many things that would come in between our dreams and where we are today. Plans – maps - and goals are nothing but guides; but the real purpose of life is the adventures we reap.

Nobody said it would be easy. Although there would be conventional roads but mostly there are rare roads. These are where the sick and afflicted, the judged, the misunderstood, the victims and all those who carry a far more colorful slate traverse. It is not a sad road. In spite of the physical pain and the emotional roller coasters of living with a rare disease - our road is like but like any road. But be proud, because mostly it’s the brightest - because the bravest and the warmest of souls travel here.

Cheers to life!

nais kong muling maging kinse.

( A rePost from my old blog )

Nais kong muling maging kinse.

Nais kong tumakbo sa ulan, maglaro ng patentero at magtaguan sa malamig na semento ng lungsod na ito. Muling gumamit ng backpack at sumakay sa likod ng pick-up truck, maligo sa kung saan resort pagkatapos ng klase. Nais kong sumuka sa gulong ng kotse, pumasok sa bintana kung gabi at matulog sa bahay ng kung sinong katoto. Mais kong maglaro ng video game sa computer shop tapos maubusan ng pamasahe pauwi.


Kumain ng ice cream sa tabi ng daan at mag habulan sa high way. Magmotor, kumarera at muling sumemplang sa kanto. Nais kong mag habulan sa loob ng imburnal na tuyo at maglaro ng holen sa kung saan my lupa. Gusto kong muling maging taya sa syato’t mapikon sa laro ng piko. Magka band aid sa siko matapos sumakay sa bisekletang walang brake.

Kumain ng fishball tapos barbeque bago manood ng liga sa barangay. Gusto kong muling mag gate crash sa JS ng public school na malapit sa bahay. Mag star gazing sa bubong at muling matakot bumaba sa hagdang gawa sa kawayan. Umakyat sa puno ng mangga at mag kunwaring marunong talaga. Nais kong mahigang muli sa bermuda sa elementary school tapos manood ng mga ulap na tumatakbo. Muling makipag-away sa pinsan kong sunog. Nais kong maligo sa poso tapos makipagbasaan ng tubig sa mga kalaro. Gusto kong muling magswimming sa pool ng kakilala matapos mag cut ng klase. Magdala ng portable DVD at manood ng mga scandal at magtawanan sa loob ng classroom. Magparamihan ng jokes sa celphone at muling mapagalitan ng librarian. Magkunwaring magreresearch pero Facebook pala inaatupag.



Tumakas papuntang Legaspi at mahuli ng teacher kong layas din. Kumupit para mabili ang gustong Tshirt. Mangapit bahay para manood ng pelikula at masarahan ng pinto kasi gabing gabi na. Nais kong muling sumubok mag skate, at sana’y di na muling mabalian ng kaliwang braso dahil sa sementadong rampa. Maglaro sa arcade at muling pagmasimple sa paghatak sa ticket. Bumili ng mga transferable tattoo at magyabang na henna ito. Maki share ng shower room sa best friend at subukang mag yosi. Gusto kong mag videoke, kumanta ng Westlife at ng Celine Dion. Pumunta ng riles at lumubog sa putikang fishpond. Pumuntang perya tapos umuwing walang pera. Gusto kong muling kiligin kasi flirt din sya, at lalo’t higit jacket lang ang suot nya. Gusto kong magsimba kasi wala lang. Kumain ng goto pagkatapos ng klase sa gilid ng paradahan ng jeep, o di kaya’y dumayo sa may central para lang sa shake at halo-halo. Gusto kong muling mag round the bottle.

Nais kong muling maging kinse.
Hindi pa naman ganun matagal ang limang taong lumipas, ngunit bakit tila kay tagal na?

Nais kong muling maglaro, nais kong muling maging kinse.

And get the oxytocin flowing...

I have been basically feeling good lately. Living with Bechets Disease for almost two years now, I am at a state that we call remission phase. Googling that word would lead you to articles saying that the symptoms of cancer has had subsided, for a while or for good. So in a note, this is phase of good days and happy mornings. 

So why do I need OXYTOCIN? You might me asking. Thing is, its actually a brain chemical that's associated with trust and attachment. In other words, it is something that makes us feel we are being intimate with a special individual. That my friend is what I have been craving for, really craving for lately. 

Aside from the physical aspect of intimacy, which I have had been able to satisfy in lots of ways in my recent past. My need now for intimacy is more primal. I simply seek a hand to hold, a shoulder to lean on and a heart that would be willing to hear my heart out. 

I did some reading about this topic and found on Oprah.com, an article that tickled some thoughts in me. 

 Men, however, often regard intimacy as working or playing side-by-side. Sure, they might discuss a bad week at work, even troubles in their love lives. But rarely do they share their secret dreams and darkest fears. (When they do, they often use "joke speak," camouflaging their feelings with humor.) And men almost never look deeply into each other's eyes. Their approach to intimacy probably also harks back to prehistory: Picture ancestral males gathering behind a bush, quietly staring across the grass in hopes of felling a passing buffalo. They faced their enemies but sat next to their friends. 
This is why, to build intimacy with a man, I do things with him—side-by-side. That way, when I talk, he isn't threatened by my gaze. 

Read full article here: http://www.oprah.com/relationships/Building-Intimacy-Gender-Differences-in-Intimacy

Relate-able! I found myself nodding on some thoughts I have found over quite a few online journals. I simply really seek for more intimacy, for connection and feeling of being able to share a part of me to a person who's willing to accept all of which.

Although I truly agree when Helen said: 

Men get a blast of it when they kiss, women feel a rush when they hold a lover's hand, and during orgasm, both partners are flooded with the powerful substance. So last but not least, enjoy each other physically. Good sex really does build intimacy.

More than looking for a hook up, my heart really seeks for the real thing. I want coffee dates, movie dates at home, I want to watch the stars and waste Saturday nights with someone. I seek for laughter, for happy tears and all those things you get from having been truly connected.  

So yes, as I have promised in my post before this, 

this my friend is a confession of how isolated I feel lately

and how much INTIMACY, I know I need.  

*** 

Have a great weekend, folks!

i think i need INTIMACY, back

This is a post that's currently being researched on, 

debated and deliberated in my hearts conference room. 

haha

so while the process of putting words in what I have been feeling, 

strongly feeling lately, 

allow this pic to somehow give you an idea where am now

:) have a great weekend ahead, folks! 

because am going to die…

I do believe that I would die young, well at least younger than my peers. I won’t be throwing a pity-me party on this post, but pardon me for sounding like am. For the record, I am not.

I simply would like to share my thoughts… 

on life – and on death.

I have stumbled upon a blog last week that has an interesting title, because am going to die. 

The sick guy in me assumed that perhaps he might me like those I know, sick and dying, thus are seriously writing in the hope of immortalizing themselves, or at least the memory of the simple short life they have lived – or maybe, just for mere expression.

Turned out he was not, is not.

It is weird actually to hear a guy talking about the possibility of death – without having befriended a life-threatening experience. Or perhaps, he has – and am simply assuming he has none. Bottom line, he sees life in a perspective that’s uncommon – and that’s cool, if not dorkish and weird.

On my way to work today, waking up from a rather dull weekend, I was thinking about how ‘normal’ is. I was wondering how is it to live ‘normal’. I was even pondering on the thought that people could really not understand, unless cancer becomes a part of the family, until death becomes a friend. People would sympathize, but they would never understand the fear guys like me have, they would never understand the profundity of loss – until it is them who have lost. So how would I be understood?

I was bugged by these thoughts and I was, am pretty much disturbed.

Dreams are fun, but if you are not assured of yet another day, dreams can sometimes be burdensome. There are times that it is best to stay and lay still – breathe and fall asleep in the comfort that perhaps the next day would be better.

This guy talks about life – and death, like he has been touched by the fear of loss, befriended by death and yes, awakened everyday by the possibility of dying. He can understand my thoughts – am guessing. And that gives me hope – that possibly someone out there would understand. Somebody would relate and see the real story behind my tale-telling.

And so today, I breathe in extra inspiration…

.. cheers to live, or at least to today.