Sep 2007

Brian: C'mon, Mikey, let's fly...like in all those comic books. I'm Superman. I'll show you the world!
Michael: Why am I always Lois Lane?

- Queer as Folk

Dear Mr. Kinney,

Forgive the intrusion. Just wanted to make sure everything's cool.

By the way, I didn't say "stay away from him". I would never say that, really.

I said, "Maghanap ka na lang ng iba". I have a photographic memory when it comes to the idiotic things that come out of my mouth, ahehehe.

It was not a threat nor a tease. It was more of a friendly advise. I guess I really have been a shitty friend if you can think that I would ever threaten you. Do you really think I can do such a thing?

It was just that... well, I really can't say what. Their secret is my secret, as is yours.

But believe me, I didn't have any bad intentions in saying that. Nor was I meddling. How can you even think that of me?

Come to think of it, it was an entirely stupid thing to say. You're a big boy. You can make your own decisions. Sorry about that.

Kasi, I was thinking of Paris. You know Paris, right? Paris was my friend waaay before you. And he kinda... well, I'm sure you know how he feels about your new guy.

Nevermind. Do you know that after our conversation, I slept for fifteen hours straight? I really didn't want to wake up and remember what we talked about. It kinda hurt. No. It really hurt.

If you like this new guy, then go for it.

I wish you luck and happiness.

You know that I only want you to be happy. Good luck, Mr. Kinney.

In fairness, bagay kayo. He's a nice guy. And so are you.

Hope we really are cool. Still can't believe we had that kind of conversation the other day. You didn't sound like you at all. For a minute there, I thought I was chatting with a perfect stranger.

Ingat ka, Mr. Kinney. Hope everything's okay with Ashley... I really do.

Sincerely,

M. Novotny

She-ra and I were in a club in Makati the other day.

"Ay ang saya! Eighties night! Purrrrr-fect!" She-ra shrieks as we entered the club. Ganado ang lola niyo, may na-idagdag na naman yata siya sa collection niya ng mga boylets.

"I love the eighties and all, pero di ba mahahalata na may idad na tayo dahil we like this kind of muzak?" I ask loudly, so I could be heard over the house mix of "I Touch Myself" by The Divinyls. I had no idea who the DJ was.

She-ra was dancing and pushing her way through the crowd straight to the bar, with me tagging along behind him.

"Honey, no one inside this place cares how old we are," She-ra says, ordering two Cosmopolitans, "What matters is that the music is good and so are the men!"

I surveyed the crowd and saw no one I knew. I gulped my drink and ordered another one.

She-ra looked at me and asked, "Uhaw?"

"Slight," I said, "Well, actually, nervous lang."

"Nervous?" She-ra asked, whilst dancing like a possessed blender, "Why in the world?"

"Eh kasi baka makita ko si Bleep at si Bleep," I said, looking around.

"Sooo? What can they do to you?" She-ra asked.

"They aren't going to do anything to me, of course. It's just that ayaw ko ng awkward moments," I said, lighting a cigarette, "this is more their place than mine."

She-ra snorted and proceeded to flirt with some guy in a black leather jacket with matching black leather pants.

I just enjoyed my drink and the music. By this time the song had changed to Sheena Easton's "Telefone".

After fifteen minutes or so, She-ra asked me my opinion, "Whaddyathink? Cute siya di ba?"

I gave Leather Guy a look-see, "Hmmm... he's okay. Pero leather all over? In this heat? Ambaho na niya sigurado."

"Huh... you have a point, bakla. Well," She-ra wipes his hands, "I guess I'll have a look at what else is on the menu."

With that, he proceeded to the comfort room.

Kaya niya akong iwan na mag-isa eh, I thought to myself.

I sat down next to a couple who seemed to be trying to eat each other's face.

Eto ang ayaw ko sa mga ganitong eksena eh. I often feel left out and out of place.

At least astig talaga ang sounds. "Take on Me" na ang tumutugtog.

And then, whilst I was drinking my Cosmo and smoking my lite, a God walked by...

He was as tall as I am, fair-skinned, medium-built, long-haired, and brooding. He was alone. He was smoking a cigarette. And he looked just as out-of-place as I was.

He ordered a beer and just stood in a corner, looking at the floor.

He was definitely a looker. The fags were already eyeing him, like a delectable piece of cake.

But he didn't seem interested in anyone.

She-ra chose this moment to come back from wherevere the fuck he went.

"Marseee! Parang may isang trak ng hotdog ang sumabog sa CR! Dyosko! Nagkalat ang schubligs!!!" She-ra whispered in my ear.

He noticed that I wasn't paying much attention to him and looked in the direction I was looking.

He spotted Brooding Guy in the corner.

"Just what the doctor ordered..." he murmured, and casually approached the guy before I could stop him.

He went up to Brooding Guy, whispered in his ear. Brooding Guy said something and She-ra laughed. And walked back to me.

She-ra sat next to me on the couch and lit a cigarette.

He didn't say anything.

"Well? What did you say to him? What did he say to you?" I prodded him.

She-ra looked at me and said innocently, "Sinoooo?"

"Argh! Ano ba? Yung cutie dun sa corner!" I poked his biceps.

"Aaaah," She-ra replied, " I asked him , are you alone or are you with somebody else?"

"Anong sabi?" I asked.

She-ra giggled, "Sabi niya, No, aym nat alown, my laber downstairs. Ume-ehe."

Pakshit. Turn-off.

There I was, lying on my bed on a Saturday night, crying my eyes out, when suddenly...

POOF!!!

My Fairy Godmother, Carrie Bradshaw, appears out of thin air in a cloud of pink dust!

"Hey hey mga marseeeh!!!" she shouts, smiling that million-dollar smile of hers, and twirling in her fabulous haute couture fluffy gown.

I wipe my eyes and squint at her, "Ate Carrie, is that you?"

"Why, of course, honey, it's me! I heard from the fashion grapevine that you were having trouble down here," she says plopping herself next to me on my futon, "so I just poofed myself here to make sure you're ok."

I was touched, "Oh Ate Carrie, I'm just so depressed all the time!"

Ate Carrie was fixing the straps of her Manolo Blahnik's, whilst listening to my plea, "Honey, I hear you. But I don't understand you. Why art thou so sad?"

"I have too many issues with my friends. I'm fat. I'm single. And my career is going nowhere!!! Waaaah!" I whimper and cry.

"Not to mention, you complain and whine a lot, I see," she quips, which makes me cry harder.

"Honey, the thing is, nobody likes a whiner, so first things first! Stop all that racket you're making," she tells me sternly, wiping my tears with an Hermes scarf.

"Second, you say you have issues with your friends? Who fuckin' doesn't?" she says, while lighting a cigarette, "The degree of love you have for a friend is shown by how badly you feel when you have a fight with them. You feel pretty bad right? Then that means you must really love them."

"I'm just scared I might lose them forever," I sniff.

Ate Carrie laughs at this, while spraying the stale air in my room with her signature perfume, "Lovely".

"Honey, if they are your friends, nothing would change. You may not talk all the time with each other, you may not look as if you care for each other, but deep inside, you know everything's ok and that you'd still do everything for them, just to make them happy, right?" Ate Carrie says to me softly.

"Now, the thing about you being fat. Get over it. If you want to be slim, go on a diet. But honestly, I think you look fine as it is, although you do need a shave," she quips, "Being slim doesn't make someone better, you know. And people like you not for your looks but for who you are. Forgive me for sounding like a Hallmark Card."

"Hokay," I reply, feeling better already.

"What was the other thing you were bleating about? Oh, right, you being single," she lights another cigarette, "well, honey, I can't help you there. I'm just a figment of your imagination; I'm not God."

"But I know that you know deep in your heart that there is someone out there for you," she says softly, "just be patient. And by the way, don't raise your standards too much. Di ka ganooon ka-ganda, kaya wag kang mag-feeling!"

"Now, last one, your career. Sad to say but, I think it's about time you moved on from that call center you work for," she says, shaking her abundant golden hair, "Let's admit it, at this point, you're just waiting for your 13th month pay and 5th year batch-anniversary, ain't yah?"

I smile. She's right, I think to myself.

"So, enough with the blues! Go out, get drunk, or better yet: get laid!" Ate Carrie pulls me up and spritzes my face with Evian, "You're still young! Life has so much to offer you still!"

"And don't forget! You may be fat! You may be single! But you're definitely smarter than the average faggot!" she says kindly.

And with those final words, she twirls, disappears, and leaves behind a faint smell of cigarettes and perfume...

I found out something today that made me very very very sad. As in.

I can't tell you what it is. It hurts to even think about it, not to mention it's very embarrassing and truly humbling.

I realized that people around me, especially my friends, think of me differently than before.

I guess I have changed. Done a lot of stupid mistakes. Had one quarrel too many.

I've always said, "You'll like me better if you don't know who I really am."

I'm sorry, okay?

Believe it or not, I've never spoken ill of any of my closest friends. Not intentionally anyway.

I hope the same goes for them.

I may not be okay with most of them but I do miss them. I really really do.

Even though I don't think I could ever talk to them again.

Both parties would agree things have gone way past the fixing and making up stage.

Sad, no?

Sorry sa drama.

Coming soon to a blog near you...

"Callboi goes to Bacolod!"

Abangan ang susunod na kabanata...