Monday, February 28, 2011

earthen vessels

i closed my eyes to see it more clearly. i closed my eyes to make things disappear, maybe robbing myself of other stimulations, concentrating the focus even more to that singular point wherein everything mattered and all things else became unimportant. it was the heart beat. it was the pulse throbbing in my jaw, my shoulder, my throat, in my head. it was being lost in the thick darkness of not seeing and yet seeing splashes of acid yellow and toxic green, of bubbles floating about as my eyes saccaded under my eyelids, my brain hallucinating now. it was my muscles slowly growing limp, its tonicity wasting,  my body eventually slacking, visualizing atrophy. it was hearing that honest speaking again, as i surrendered myself, defenseless, and had finally allowed the world to take down veils and walls and layers of thick covering, revealing my frail nakedness, exposing my thin, sullen skin, barely clinging onto my small brittle bones, holding on to keep my broken, broken soul.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

my triumvirate

february 25, 2011

it was secretly supposed to be just about Dodong, but not too long after he came out to greet the hungry eyes and fantasies of the audience did things quickly turn into something else.

he must have been the personification of the ideal, the projection of the secret wishes and hopes of perfect, blissful existence that many members of the audience that night had. it was, in a way, fun to wish that ideal for myself as well. so i laughed, i smiled, i smirked in my glee, tickled by the prospects and the scenarios this bit of fiction is creating in my brain, but the joy was hollow. none of it felt real. none of the feeling lasted.

there was another production playing that night and despite the lights, the effects, the loudness of the music and the pathetic audio of the performance happening in front of me, my attention was elsewhere.something far more interesting, intriguing, captivating, was happening and it took my undivided attention. unfortunately though, this show, too, gave me no joy.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

peeling an orange

not a lot of people would suggest peeling an orange. more often than not, they would prefer having or serving oranges sliced, neatly cut into perfect wedges, shaped just right to fit in their mouths and give them a seamless, orange-peel smile. but i like peeling my orange. i always have. it may be messier than, say, peeling a tangerine, but i peel them nonetheless. it's all about connecting with my food, something slicing with a knife can never seem to provide. i like how my fingers would run over an orange's dimpled skin, searching for that perfect spot where i can dig my thumb in. i like how my thumb, big and blunt as it is, would carefully wedge itself under the thick skin, easing away the white, fibrous flesh, unraveling the juicy underlying meat. i like how the meat would feel, how the temperature changes from the warmth of the outside air to the cold interior of the fruit's core. i love how, as my fingers manage its way around undressing the fruit, that it sprays me with a citrus bouquet, its juices running down into my scooped palm.

not a lot of people would prefer peeling an orange. they find it messy and too cumbersome as opposed to, say, slicing it with a knife. but as i eat the succulent portions of the fruit i had so lovingly peeled, and smell the sweet scent it had left on my sticky fingers as they come near my mouth, i think about those people who like having their oranges perfectly sliced and wonder, if only they knew what i know, then maybe their experiences wouldn't just be about a neat, orange-peel smile.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Philippians 4: 10 to 13

Paul, the apostle, once said...

10 But I arejoiced in the Lord greatly because now at length you have caused your thinking for me to 1blossom anew; for which matter you had indeed taken thought, but lacked opportunity.
11 Not that I speak according to alack, for I have learned, in whatever circumstances I am, to be 1bcontent.
12 I know also how to be 1abased, and I know how to 2abound; 3in everything and in all things 4I have learned the secret both to be 5filled and to ahunger, both to 6abound and to 7black.
13 I am able to do all things 1in Him who 2aempowers me. 

i pray earnestly to also learn how to rejoice in my lack, in my insufficiency, in my weakness, in my failures, in my defeats. i hope that in so doing, i too, if my Lord wills it, will be able to experience in the most practical sense how it is to be filled, to be sustained, to be strengthened, to be uplifted, to be made victorious by the unlimited, inexhaustible, omnipotent God that made His dwelling in me.

Monday, February 14, 2011

a curious incident in the evening while in the bus on the way back to manila

i was seated on the second row from the back. it was tight and uncomfortable. the bus was new but the spaces between seats was cramped. i didnt understand why they had to make the spaces smaller. i don't think shorter people would prefer newer buses while the taller ones go for the older. despite the discomfort, the bus was at least clean and devoid of any moldy smell. i disliked moldy smells. it reminds me of decaying matter under my butt, probably eating away onto my flesh on some microscopic level. thankfully, i was too tired to be bothered. not long after i sat in my seat, i soon found myself dozing in and out of sleep. everytime my eyes would open, i would be in another part of pangasinan.

maybe it did not attract short people, but the new bus attracted many passengers since we kept stopping at almost every few meters the bus would move. this was my first time to be in a bus wherein all the seats became packed in just a span of a few minutes, none of the passengers, i found, were short enough to fit comfortably in the spaces provided between rows. i did however notice the guy sitting in front of me. it wasnt hard not too since he was maybe one of the best dressed in the bus. i took special notice of him since he got up to wave at his friends before the bus departed from the station, and because he sat uncomfortable close in front of me, just because the seat rows were close to each other. i dozed off soon after again.

i woke up a few minutes later since i felt i fell asleep with my mouth slightly agape. i felt embarrassed because it is a funny sight to sleep with your mouth open. i was also afraid i might drool. i had a friend who drooled. it was not very funny, especially if he drooled on you, his saliva probably feeding further the mold already feeding on your flesh from the seats. i also woke up because i felt more cramped than before, surprised that it was even possible despite the sardine-line condition of the bus. the guy seated in front of me had reclined his back, far enough that i could see his head and count his hair and surmise how cheap his greasy hair wax was. i had my bag on my lap and it was the only thing that was keeping him from further reclining and squash my balls. i was slightly irritated, but again, maybe it was the sleepiness, decided not to react. he tried to further recline his seat, but my bag was too bulky to give in. he took a glance back at me, i stared back at him. he did not stay long with my eye contact. i fell asleep again.

when i woke up much later, it was already becoming dusk outside and my seatmate, i found had already alighted from the bus. quickly moved to that seat and was thus able to stretch my cramped legs a bit. the guy seated in front of me also now could recline his seat further, to which he did. he looked at me again, this time, almost inquisitively. i looked back and thought, maybe hes never seen a chinese guy before. it's a possibility. i once met an african zulu who seriously thought i could do karate because of what he saw in the movies. i told him i cant, because karate is japanese while i am chinese. the guy kept glancing back at me many more times after that, until, i guess after my brain started to function properly, that i realized, this guy was checking me out. it also helped that i saw him groping himself while looking at me. like with all things related to the improper and obscene, i often go into a cold, frigid blank, a severe state of indifference. he could have moaned and groaned and all i would be able to do was stare at him blankly and blink... which i did. he tried to get me aroused i think by fidgeting in his seat and showing that he's touching himself but all that i could think of was how uncomfortable it must be for you to slide up and down the bus' seat. like all public buses, the seats were laminated in plastic wherein shear pressure was your main enemy, especially in long trips. not only did he looked uncomfortable and raunchy, i could also imagine the friction burns he could be inducing to himself from constantly rubbing his unnecessarily tight jeans. he was not the slimmest of subjects since i could see a chunk of his flesh pressing against his also unnecessarily tight shirt. probably realizing he was not getting anything from me, he turned around and faced the other way. thus ended his show, thus also ended my frigid spell. i then fell asleep again.

when i woke up, his seat was now up and it seems he found for himself a new point of interest... the guy seated in front of him. i have to say, he is awfully persistent, more so, i found it amusing how coincidental it was that you have three guys, seated one row after another, all of which were gay. there was some transaction happening between the two of them, exchanged thru stares and some other body language. not long later, the guy moved beside to the seat in front of him and thats when things started to REALLY happen.

i was reporting to Irog blow by blow accounts of what i was seeing since it does not take a genius to interpret sucking sounds, head disappearing behind seatbacks, unusual vibrations and the faint, but still audible escape of a moan. i didnt understand why again i was not offended with what was happening, maybe again because i found it utterly laughable what i was witnessing. three rounds later and the two of them were done. i heard whisperings and kissings and the other person even going further of taking a picture of the two of them hugging together with his blackberry. it seems that they are now in a relationship. i guess some people just dont like wasting time. the new guy eventually had to go since we arrived at his stop. he had an almost spud-like shaped face and head, not really helped by his crew-cut hair and his geeky glasses. he was taller than the other guy, longer limb but a doughy torso. he gave an ok sign to his boy who was left behind and disappeared as he got down. the guy who sat in front of me never looked back at where i was, all the way until we got to the station.

this is my second time to be a voyeur.

im heading back to the province again this weekend.

i dont think there is anything charming with a third time.