Tuesday, May 23, 2006

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.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

Episode III - Ang Mga Lalaki Sa Buhay ni Rico Miguel

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

Wahahahahaha

Friday, May 12, 2006

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...

Friday, May 05, 2006

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)

Thursday, May 04, 2006

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...

Monday, May 01, 2006

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*