Thought Bubble - Series 1

The greatest tragedy would be to lie on a deathbed and realize that one has not lived...

Did You Ever?

First Time (Piano) - Winter Sonata


Did you ever love someone,
And know he didn't love you?
Did you ever feel like crying,
And think what good it would do?

Did you ever see him dancing,
When the lights were way down low?
Did you ever say, "God, I love him!"
But just couldn't let him know?

Did you ever wonder where he is at night
Perhaps with someone new?
One moment you are happy,
One moment you are blue.

So if you fall in love, my friend,
You'll find it doesn't pay.
Although it causes broken hearts,
It happens everyday.

You just can't let him see you.
It will never turn out right.
Love is great, it hurts so much.
The price you pay is high
If I were to choose between love and death,
I think I would rather die!

So if you fall in love, my friend,
You'll be hurt, yes, it's true!
You see, my friend, I ought to know.
Because I fell in love with you...

Father Knows Best

Sometimes I wish that me and my Dad could be close.

I don't exactly know what happened between us. I could easily blame his parenting style for that chasm that perpetually exists between us. I could say that he is the cause of my total lack of self confidence. He was hard, his words were harsh and hurtful. He sometimes ruled with an iron hand.

I could remember waking up at 5am on a Sunday morning just to help him sell beef at the local market. I could remember how he would make me and my brother clean our car everyday after he arrives from work during our summer vacation. At a young age, I knew what responsibility was. I learned to be independent. I learned that life isn't a bed of roses. That life is not fair.

But I also remember how he would always have a gift for me on my birthday, no matter what. I remember how he stayed with me at the hospital when I broke my arm. I remember how he would refuse to let me take the public transportation and insist that he bring me to school events. I remember how he would also fetch me after my 9pm class at the DLSU during my last trimester in college.

My dad was the personification of 'tough love'. He had a different way of showing it but he loved us nonetheless.

What exactly happened between us? Maybe I never really made an effort to be close to him.

The Movie in My Mind

SCENE: 2am, Caltex coffee shop in Imus, clear skies with stars
MOOD: Pensive, Twinkling, Sparkling
SOUNDTRACK: It Might Be You by Stephen Bishop
LINE: (Thought bubble) Could it be you who'd mend this broken heart of mine?

After some of the guys left, we stayed with the people from the other badminton team (who shall from now on be referred to as "They") at Bali till about 10pm. I was actually starting to get annoyed because They were influencing me not to go to rehearsals anymore at sumama na lang daw kami ni A sa bahay nina D for a round of karaoke. Ako ang kinukulit kasi ako daw ang susi sa pagsama ni A. Haha! Well, to cut a long story short, I didn't say YES nor did I say NO. Si A ang nagsabi na uuwi na kami dahil nga may practice ako.

Kasama namin sa kotse si El (who went down at Guadalupe) and J (who went down in Zapote). I was silent all throughout the trip because I was annoyed and was wishing that I had commuted home earlier. To top it off, the guys from the choir have been texting na nagalit daw yung choirmaster namin kasi hindi ako nagpaalam na ma-late ako or that hindi pala ako darating. Then A said that samahan daw nya ako sa rehearsals at kausapin daw nya ang choirmaster namin at sabihin na sya ang dahilan kaya ako late. Sabi ko, wag naman ganun. Ok na kako kasi maaga pina-dismiss yung rehearsals kasi medyo bad mood na ang choirmaster. When we reached the church at around 11:15, wala na nga tao. Then A asked if we could have coffee and talk, I guess to make up for what happened. I said ok.

We went to a Caltex station in front of Robinson's Imus kasi wala naman coffee shop sa Imus na open hanggang madaling araw. Maski yung Dunkin Donuts ay hindi na 24 hours. We got drinks from the convenience store and sat down. As usual, he paid for everything.

Ayun, we talked, and talked, and talked, and talked. Till about 2:30am. We jumped from a variety of topics such as badminton, tournaments, plans in life, past relationships, views on relationships, family, friends. I won't go into details na lang kasi some of the topics were really very personal. Suffice to say that we discovered a lot about each other last night. He showed a serious and pensive side that I thought was quite the opposite of the happy-go-lucky, makulit and maloko image he projects at Platinum. There were things about him that I liked, and things that I didn't like. But bottom line, A is a good person. Simpleng tao lang sya. Mabait, and hindi mayabang. And so unsure of himself. It was a far cry from the first impression that I had about him.

Do I like him? Yes, I do. I like being with him. And I guess it was obvious to P from the start kaya P voiced it out during our recent coffee session at Megamall.

Possibility na maging "kami"? Maybe. It's too early to tell. Complications about his present relationship status is making me doubt whether I want to jump into the foray or not. But on the other hand, he had relationship views that was very appealing to me. For now, I am enjoying the moment. Kasi it is also possible that he is just looking for someone to have a serious talk with. Someone who will relate to him on an intelligent level. No pretentions, no bullshit.

GYM-kata

Today was my first day at the gym...again.

After months of coming up with every conceivable excuse (real and fabricated), I decided that it was time to go and once more try to achieve the body that I have been dreaming of.

My love affair with the gym was an on-and-off relationship. But more of the "off"...

This love-hate relationship began roughly 2 years ago. It was a result of a not-so-good employee annual physical exam. Years of inactivity (I was--am--lousy at sports) and a semi-sedentary lifestyle resulted in cholesterol levels that were above the norm for someone my age. I felt like I was doused with a bucket of iced water. And so, armed with my credit card, I ventured into uncharted territories and enrolled at Slimmer's World Megamall (how's that for plugging?). I got the whole nine yards. Personal Training sessions, skin clinic programs, nutritionist, I had it all. (To this day, my credit card bears the mark of that "kaskas" spree)

My first day at the gym was frightening, to say the least. I felt like a schoolboy on his first day at a new school. I felt as if everyone was staring at the newbie being oriented on the do's and don'ts. Everyone knew and were "buddy-buddies" with each other. I felt left out. So, in order to blend into the background, I kept mostly to myself and followed my personal trainer around like a puppy dog.

The first time I laid eyes on the machines, I got the impression that they were actually machines for inhuman torture cleverly disguised to look like gym equipment. This impression was reinforced when I actually started using the machines. I huffed, and I puffed, and I blew my lungs out. And that was only the first 15 minutes. But Alan, my instructor, was patient and determined. Despite my numerous complaints and the faces that I made, he encouraged me and gave me that extra push to finish that first workout.

The day after, there was hell to pay. I felt pain in areas that I didn't think could be capable of experiencing pain. As I struggled to get out of bed, I silently cursed my trainer for putting me through torture. I felt stiff and limped my way through most of the day. Just the slightest touch and I would squeal in pain. But beyond the aches, I felt something unexpected--exhiliration. I felt a "high" knowing that I took that first step towards a healthier lifestyle. That is why, two days -- and a few Alaxans -- later, I found myself trudging back to the dungeon to face the machines of torture. Another two days later, I was making my way back. And so on and so forth. I was becoming a masochist.

This went on for another two years. But there were numerous periods that I found excuses not to show up. Work, helter-skelter schedules, flu, colds, trips to the province, break-ups. I wanted quick results, but I wasn't putting in enough commitment and discipline for me to achieve the results that I so wanted.

The last time that I seriously went to the gym was last December. I stopped because my long time instructor decided to leave for Dubai in search of greener pastures. He took along with him my drive to workout since he had inspired me, not just to get a better body, but to be a better person as whole. He made me realize that I can be more that who I am now if I just try and persevere. He was my instructor and my mentor. When he left, I felt I had lost a very good friend.

Flash forward to February of this year. I had received my physical exam results and it was deja vu. I had drilled in my mind that I would return to the gym in March. Unfortunately, I slipped and fell while cave exploring in Sagada, resulting in an injured wrist. Another perfect excuse. Haha. Then there were earth shattering discoveries about the guys I was dating that made me even more depressed. And then there was the recent break-up. In all of these, I found the perfect excuse not to pump iron. I slid back to the sedentary lifestyle that I had wallowed in more than 2 years ago.

But I was in for a rude awakening. Last week, out of the blue, my staff commented that I was getting pudgy around the midsection. I knew she meant well. And then 3 days ago, I overheard my contractual employees say that they thought I was quite good-looking save for the fact that I had a beer belly. I froze because I don't drink beer. I felt insulted. But I knew that this was true. I had let myself go.

It made me think and reflect. In the two years that I have been a gym member, have I achieved my objective? A resounding NO. While it is true that there were improvements in energy levels, I felt less lethargic, and there was a slight improvement in my general appearance, I have yet to see that 30" waist and 35 - 40" chest that I had set out to achieve. In the heels of a recent break-up, I thought that maybe this was the reason why I haven't been successful in my most recent attempts at a relationship?

And so, for the nth time, I found myself walking the familiar halls that I used to view as a dungeon. But I realize that things are different now. The gym has become my solace when I feel depressed. I pour out my frustrations into my workouts, I channel my anger towards lifting weights. The place has become my refuge. The people have become pillars from whom I draw strength, inspiration, and humor. I have shared in their triumphs and struggles. Their stories have become mine.

Like the prodigal son, my return was welcomed with cheers and greetings. It's as if I have never gone at all. I was home, at last.

I come back with a firm resolve to be a better, more confident, more disciplined, and more committed person. Hopefully, this time, I will be successful.

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It's amazing what a break-up can do. Aside from the usual heartache and nights crying yourself to sleep, a firm resolve to make yourself more palatable to the human eye is formed. Of course, there is also an underlying purpose. To make the guy rue and regret the day that he broke up with you. And what better way to do that than to get a body to die for? Haha. But that's another story...

Freedom

Dear L****,

This is very difficult for me and I don't know how to begin but I know that this is something that I have to do.

I have been thinking about things ever since our talk nung Monday. I have replayed our conversation over and over in my mind. Admittedly, I was hurt. I cried myself to sleep every night since then. I don't want to dwell on who is at fault but I think this is the best thing for the both of us.

Let's take time off from each other. Wag muna tayo magkita, wag muna tayo mag-communicate. Let's take this time apart as an opportunity to REALLY think and decide kung ano ba talaga ang gusto natin mangyari. Let's reflect and take stock of what do we really want. This will be the "freedom" that you asked for. Mahal kita, pero as of now, I do not know if I want to be with someone who changes his mind about a relationship so quickly. Kalalabasan niyan, lagi akong nasa "limbo", neither here nor there. Nakakapagod din.

You said na masyado ka na nasaktan sa akin. Well, masyado rin ako nasaktan sa iyo. Kaya, sasarhan ko na muna ang puso ko. Closed for repairs and renovation until further notice. Masyado na kasi sya nabugbog for the past few months. Bigyan ko sya ng break at time to heal. For how long? Only time will tell...

Take care, L****. God bless.

Alone Again, Naturally

Reunion Theme - Windstruck ost - kwak yong jin

Today I find myself alone once more.

As we sat down this afternoon at a fastfood chain near his office, he said that he loved me but he wasn't ready for a relationship and the responsibilities that come with it. He said that a relationship was not his priority at the moment. He wanted more freedom. He wanted to be able to do the things that he used to do, like go out with his friends anytime he wanted. It didn't necessarily mean that we would be seeing less of each other because we would still be "dating" exlusively, he said. He wanted things to be the same as before. But in my mind, I knew that things will never be the same.

I stared at him blankly as he said these things. My stoic face belied the pain and the hurt that my heart felt. I held back the tears that wanted to well up and overflow from my eyes and said nothing.

That was our talk this afternoon. And now as I look at the screen, my eyes blinded by my tears, I think: Am I destined to be alone forever?

For now, my heart is closed for repairs and renovation. It has been mercilessly battered and bruised for the past few months. It needs time to heal.

I am tired.

I Just Had to Hear Your Voice*

by JOHN TRONES

I Just Had To Hear Your Voice - John Trones

I know you thought it best
That we spend a little time apart.
But one night without you
Is too much for my heart.
I know I promised not to call
Sorry, but I didn't have a choice
I just had to hear your voice.

Please don't be mad at me
'Cause I really did the best I could
Not to dial your number
But it didn't do much good.
Hung up the phone so many times
'Til I didn't have a choice
I just had to hear your voice.

I had to know that you're okay
I couldn't get to sleep feeling this way.
And I had to hear you say hello
I had to because I love you so...

I know you thought it best
That we spend a little time apart.
But I had to hear your voice
Though I know it wasn't right
I just had to hear your voice... good night...

====================

* Personally, think that this is one of the saddest songs I have ever heard

The Phoenix

I don't have much to do at work. I am killing time. I have read all newspapers, arranged my files and planned for the next two weeks. And here I am, trying to keep myself busy, abnormally watching time slowly tick away.

I would rather spend time meaningfully and so I just decided to let my fingers do the talking in my PC.

About what? For whom?

I have thought about this for a few seconds and I thought of writing here. For no particular reason. For no one in particular. I just want to write here. For someone to catch another glimpse into my heart and soul.

Funny how at this age I have decided to sign up at a site that caters to one of man's basic human needs. I would be hypocritical if I say I did not expect any message from anyone. In fact, mine was "guarded expectation" primarily because of the site nature stated previously. At 33, I am past that stage. Even as I have always reasoned that there is supposed to be something beyond the groin, it would be very naïve to assume that people would be motivated simply to find friendship there. But still I believe that there are reasonable and decent people out there.

I have delayed for more than a year signing up, because I know that I would be the "odd man out". But I risked joining because I wanted to confirm for myself how far I can take the "market place" or allow myself to be "sold" there. Pero wala akong baon e. No glossy pix. No hunky beefy poses. No flirtatious profile or messages.

Just an old soul who perhaps at the end of a tiring day values good souls out there, too.

At 33 I am tired of pleasing people to like me. At 33 I have begun to embrace who I am and to celebrate my imperfections. At 33 I see people in their full value, including their shortcomings. At 33 I realized life is too short to be robbed of friendships, affection, expression, care and reinforcement. At 33 I am prudent enough to know how my immediate environment would react to who I really am, but I no longer allow that environment to box me in an insignificant corner in this world.

At 33 I surge with self-confidence and independence, defining my personality and sexuality not as an aberration but a unique evolution of my personhood.

At 33 I hold on to my core values. No sexual orientation has the monopoly of truth, honesty, integrity, spirituality, courage and decency. Morality is not to be confined within the borders of what is acceptable or imposed by others, but within the empathy and understanding of wanting to be humane----for yourself and for others, regardless of class, race and sexual orientation.

At 33, I am too old not to tolerate the pain of rejection. At 33 I realize there will always be others who will not share the same pathos, principles, points of view. But at the same time I am not about to force them to accept my personhood in the same way that I may not be persuaded to embrace theirs.

At 33 I am willing to define my place in this universe. More forgiving of my own inadequacies, but keeping apace with the ever increasing demands of integrity, kindness, love and optimism. More accepting of the shortcomings of others and sensitive of their own processes of self-determination, of self-worth.

At 33 I am grateful of past mistakes. I hike to the highest of personal mountains to see the whole view. I refuse to see in the myopia of my own views. I am more aware of my "blind spots" .

At 33 I celebrate small, insignificant triumphs. I value smiles of affirmation. I keep messages of reinforcement. I collect in my memory bank every single thought and deed that make my day bright, as well as delete permanently from my memory space those that encourage returns of rancor, bias and intolerance against people, former liaisons, former partners and others who might have wronged me (or so I thought).

At 33 I am more forgiving.

At 33 I am reclaiming my life again. New start. New leaps of faith. New journeys to wherever life brings me.

That journey is to be shared with my family. With my town in Cavite. With my community of friends. With whomever is willing to walk with me.

Episode III - Ang Mga Lalaki Sa Buhay ni Rico Miguel

And the list goes on and on and on...

Wahahahahaha

EPISODE II - Ang Pagdadalaga ni Rico Miguel

WARNING: Some words or language may not be suitable for young readers. Parental guidance is advised

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Looking back, the first indication that I was gay manifested itself when I was just five years old. I distinctly remember watching a movie being shown on television. One of the scenes had the young male lead walking along the beach topless. I remember having an erection, and playing with myself after as I took a bath. Although of course, at that time I didn't know what an erection was or that what I was doing was masturbation, for that matter. From that point, I would regularly 'play' in the shower while fantasizing about some male actor I had seen on television. And all of this happened before I even went to prep school.

Grade school was pretty normal for me. All the unique urges that I experienced prior to it seem to have disappeared altogether. It all became a dim memory. I even remember having a long time crush on two female schoolmates, Margarita and Leslie. It was the usual puppy love that most of us have experienced. Would you believe that I even felt extreme admiration for some of our female teachers (usually math teachers -- ha ha!)?

But things changed when I stepped onto the hallowed halls of our high school. It must have been the raging hormones that peak during the teen years. I began to have this unbelievable infatuation for a PBA basketball player when I was in 4th year high. He had nice eyes, and huge, strong looking legs that held up a body to die for. He was one of the poster boys of his basketball generation (alongside two of his team mates). In interviews, he would come across as articulate and smart. I never failed to watch every single game that he played. I would cut out photos and articles about him. My parents and classmates all thought it was a regular 'fan' thing.

Alongside my basketball idol, I began cutting out photos of men whom I found attractive and hide them in a brown manila envelope (which I still have to this day, empty, the paper brittle and full of creases).

In college, I still did not grasp the concept of being gay. But the signs were already there. Everyday, I would make it a point to pass through the men's gym and locker room to discreetly ogle at the guys taking a shower or using the exercise equipment. I would go out of my way to be with this good looking member of our barkada. Even to the extent of helping him with his assignments, exams and other schoolwork, all in the guise of barkadahan.

But behind all that, I began to question myself. Studying in an exclusive Catholic school all my life, where I was bombarded with doctrines and teachings contrary to what I felt, did not help allay my fears and the feeling of disgust and self hatred that began to consume me. I was confused. I began to question the very God that made me. I tried to correct what I was feeling by courting girls. Obviously, none of my attempts were successful (I guess women feel whether a guy was really serious with them or not)

The feeling of guilt and loathing intensified and I started to withdraw into myself. I never let anyone get too close to me for fear of discovery. I rejected who I was. And this continued even onto my professional life.

Until I met Kevin...

EPISODE I - Rico Miguel ang Itawag Mo sa Akin

I am gay. Bading, jokla, syoke. Call it what you may. Bottom line is, I like guys. I dream of having a long lasting relationship with one.

Suffice to say that I was a late bloomer in that I started accepted being gay when I was 26 or 27. Even as we speak, I am not completely out of the closet.

Prior to that, I was just like a lot of people who just realized that they had different tastes, I though of myself as abnormal and freakish. I was so afraid of who I really was that I hid inside myself and never got close to anyone. Sure, I had friends, but I never really TALKED to them about personal things, much less my sexual orientation. I became so paranoid that others would discover the real me and reject me. That was my number one fear, being rejected by my friends and family. I even came to the point of questioning God for making me what I am. I was (and still am) a good son to my parents, very religious ( I sang in a church choir), honest, and smart. So, WHY ME??? It was then that I started to reject myself and who I was. I really hated myself.

Then I discovered this wonderful world called the Internet. It was very instrumental in my road to self acceptance. I decided to post messages in a gay oriented site. I found a friend who was very comfortable with who he was, and he helped me accept myself. I woke up one day and said to myself, THIS IS WHO I AM, AND THERE MUST BE A PURPOSE TO THIS, TO HELL WITH WHAT OTHERS MIGHT SAY. From that moment on, I felt better about myself. I was AT PEACE with myself. I started to reach out more to others like myself and realized that there wasn't anything wrong with me.

I was not different, I was merely unique... (to be continued)

Walk By

Song from a secret garden - secret garden

We stroll along the beach,
As the sun sets in the sky.
I walk towards you and you towards me.
I stop, but you walk by...

He joins you in a second,
And puts his hand in yours.
I see you plant your lips on his,
As the seas upon the shores.

As nightfall comes, he turns away,
And tears come to your eyes.
He's left you for another love,
You've failed, you realize.

You trace your steps along the sand,
To where you were before.
You find a man who loved you once,
But now loves you no more.

We stroll along the beach,
As the sun sets in the sky.
I walk towards you, and you towards me,
You stop, but I walk by...

On the Wings of Music

Ever since I was in grade school, I have always loved music. I took pride in the fact that I was the only student in class who took our Music subject seriously. For me, it was a passion. Composers, instruments, and singing fascinated me. While most of my peers directed their efforts into sports, I devoted my activities to improving my musical ability.

During music class, I would sit closest to the piano so that I could hear every single note that the teacher played. I would sing the songs the loudest. I would enter each class enthusiastically, eagerly awaiting new melodies that would be taught to us.

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In high school, we didn't have any more music classes, much to my disappointment. But we did have the Wednesday Clubs, where we could choose any extra curricular activity that we wanted. I naturally chose to join a club related to music. Three of my four years in high school were spent playing with a Rondalla* 'band'. In those three years, I mastered the art of playing with the different sections of the band (banduria 1 and 2, Octavina, and Bass), although I was really assigned to playing the section that does the counter-melody, the Octavina group. Towards the end, I was given an award for my untiring efforts and dedication to learning to play and mastering all the instruments.

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In college, I did not get much chance to continue with my music although I was invited every now and then to play as a guest performer for my high school alma mater. Hence, in order to make music still a part of my life, I joined my hometown Church choir. It was hard work. In addition to my academic schedule, I had to rigorously study the rudiments of music like note reading and solfeggios. I also attended rehearsals four times a week at two and a half hours per session. And, we had to be at the church one hour before the beginning of the Sunday mass to perform physical and vocal exercises. Our mass started at 7am.

The banner year for the group was in 1996, when we ventured out into our world concert tour and pilgrimage. The choir sang and won awards and accolade in different competitions, festivals, and events in over 10 countries in Europe, four states in the United States of America, and two countries in Asia. It was a rewarding experience for me as I got to visit and see the places that I only knew of through photographs.

The choir did not limit itself to singing in church. We conducted regular outreach programs and organized free medical and dental missions for the less fortunate people of our province.

All the hard work proved stimulating, motivating, and extremely rewarding. I never felt tired at all, instead, I found my body and mind relaxing, and I felt my soul being uplifted. Was it because we render service to the church and the community without expecting anything in return? Or because of the 'good feeling' I get when helping someone and seeing the gratitude in that person's eyes? Or because of the tears of joy that we bring to different people in different countries when we begin to sing? Or is it because other youths have come to look at us as a role model to emulate?

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Music has helped me develop mentally and socially. I believe that music training has given me a high level of self-discipline and has instilled in me positive values such as punctuality.

During the years of singing, I have met and interacted with different peoples of different countries and cultures. I have come to realize that music truly bridges gaps and breaks down barriers brought about by language, culture, and religion. More importantly, I have gained a broader understanding and perspective of other's beliefs and way of life.

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*Rondalla is a general term for a group of string instruments similar to that of the American banjo, only these instruments have 14 strings to be played*

Haiku

If I were the wind
I'd cool you with my breeze and
whisper, "I love you"

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HAIKU is one of the most important form of traditional Japanese poetry. It is a 17-syllable verse form consisting of three metrical units of 5, 7, and 5 syllables.

In Remembrance - Anonymous

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle morning rain.

And when you wake in the morning's hush.
I am the sweet uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die...