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Angels in Disguise: Leavings and Goings at the Chocolate Hills of Manila

Check the drafts of a memoir (available in leading online stores) in long blog posting-format that account on how I coped with youthful urges with having no positive role models and growing up under restrictive social conditions, in Manila, Philippines, circa 1980s way much until after I moved to NYC. Drafts of my other book projects are here, too. God be praised!

On Lyric and Capitol Movie Theaters in the Escolta in Manila

During one lunch time with friends on a weekday somewhere in Roosevelt Island in NYC, I heard with extreme curiosity for the first time the confessional sharing made by one of my friends who were around that time. I am not going to describe him more here so I can help protect his identity for now. Suffice it to say that those who were with me during that lunch are good friends of mine.

He narrated how at age 14 (or so), he was approached by a Chinese older guy who was probably in his 30s and married while they were walking on the sidewalk of Sta Cruz, Manila. The man invited him to watch a movie in one of those movie theatres found in Escolta. I have been to two of these theatres, namely 'Lyric' and 'Capitol' (there probably were other theatres found on that street but I have to verify this). Although built with good materials, these theatres look old and passe by the time I started watching movies there, and they're mainly used by patrons who'd like to have fun with similarly thinking other patrons from all walks of life in this part of Manila and its nearby environs. I'm not sure if I wrote about those encounters I've had in those theatres in my first book....if not, then I should find time to write about them one of these days.

Going back to my friend's story, he shared how he was led by the older guy into the bathroom in the loge section of the movie house, and he was soon being orally accosted by the man whom he just met on the street one time he was enjoying himself away from the concerns his family and his small world then had.

He shared how he was given PhP100 by the man, and they were soon having a meal in one of those restaurants in the area. I am sure I had been in that restaurant that my friend mentioned, but I can't recall its name now. That PhP100 given to my friend in the early 1960s is probably equivalent to PhP1000 as of this writing. That also started a brief relationship of my good friend with that man who turned out to be a textile dealer with a store located in Binondo, the important commercial section where numerous businesses of Chinese-Filipinos started, flourished, and went on to bring about more money into the Philippine economic system. My friend shared how the man started giving him textiles that he was also instructed to sell by the businessman when my friend goes back to his province during weekdays.

My friend did start having his selling business of textiles soon, but he was not right away paid by customers. They had to wait for cash from their agricultural products, e.g., rice, so they can get what they need and want, and in turn pay their bills, including those with my friend. My friend would soon find himself being teased endlessly by his 2 half brothers after they started wondering how he's able to buy really expensive stuff for himself. That probably got him to eventually decide to stop seeing the man with whom he probably had an ongoing relationship for at least a year. 

What Do You Do When Someone You're Making Out With Tell You Later He's HIV+?

One of my regular fuck buddies has told me that it's confirmed he's HIV+. Latino, a US citizen born and raised in the USA, middle-aged, an enterprising fellow who seems to be tired from being taken advantaged of by the production system that makes use of skills and abilities to continue enriching the pockets of those who don't want to hear about such abusive systems especially because they're on top of the structure, my friend is a loving, bilingual, sensitive fellow. He did prepare me for the news as he would tell me at least 2 months before that he's been waiting for results of his health tests, which results came some time. I guess it's because he's got no health insurance so he has to wait for his turn at the publicly funded health system for him to get checked up, get results, and be shown his prognosis by license health practitioners. Was I scared about the results? Honestly, I wasn't, and I wasn't being stupid. But what do you expect me to do when a fuck buddy who's now become a good friend tells me he's HIV+? I think the least I can do for him is to be empathetic with his situation --- it's some kind of thing that could happen to any one of us or to our loved ones.

I continue to meet him, and we make it a point these days to follow safe sex practices. And I've been sharing him supplements I've been taking, which I believe helps me make my body systems working well and fighting all these viruses in and around us. You really never know how they are out there to quickly exterminate each one of us, even before we realize it. Look at the ebola virus scare, which is ongoing in certain places in Africa. In the meantime, I continue to use consistently my supplements. It's one part of the strategy to keep a healthy life. I have been using them for over a year now. They include: Daily Essentials , Bromelain Plus , Ultimate Aloe , ORACI also continue being physically active, even if I feel tired at the end of the day. So far, we are learning that my friend and my own body systems, specifically our respective immune systems are successfully fighting all these viruses. We're limiting the damage so far. And I'm thankful for that.

Sunbathing at the Gunnison Beach, NJ on a Weekday

My friend and I were talking while in bed about going to the beach on a weekday. And before we knew it, we agreed to meet in that coming Friday. I was grateful that we had that talk on a Monday, which meant I still had all the time to prepare for what was needed to be done before I could head off to the beach. Thankfully, I even managed to get a second hand bike from someone in the North Shore of Staten Island. On the day itself, the trip to the Gunnison Beach started in a ferry boat from the East River in Manhattan, which I reached after biking all the way from my place in Stapleton, Staten Island. My friend made all the arrangements, and bought the tickets for ourselves, as well as for our bikes. 

I've read about this nude beach somewhere in New Jersey, and even joined a group going in that part of New Jersey years ago but we didn't really go to the designated nude beach. We were in Sandy Hook but in another part of it, and we took the car in going there. But in this trip, I saw the grand-ness and the beauty of New York Harbor on a sunny summer day. Our ferry passed under the Verrazano Bridge that spans the distance between Staten Island and Brooklyn. Sandy Hook lies almost just across the tip of Staten Island. From it, you'll see Manhattan skyline, and you could even identify iconic buildings from among the silhouettes shown from that distance. We biked from the pier to Gunnison Beach, which was about 15 minutes in travel time, if I estimated it right. Approaching the beach, I soon sensed it was scorching hot, and I was soon burning my big toes after walking on the sand as I excitedly cast away my shoes and socks to my bag, and never bothered to put on flipflops. Oh, well, I have to learn something critical each day.

We were soon naked, which we did right there and then (just like in other nude beach areas). And a lot of naked people has been there way ahead of us. But each one of us had enough space for ourselves. 

Check out the pictures below.

Almost Scared Shit of Getting HIV Infected

I found myself chatting with a roommate one afternoon at home about exciting encounters we've had recently. I immediately opened up about sharing what I did with someone who lives in a 100+-year old mansion on Richmond Road in Staten Island that was converted into several apartments, one of which is being rented out to a recently-found bed mate. His unit looks so lived in and with fascinating furnishings and glass windows that open to a view of tall trees. I added that I felt being in between being scared and being fascinated while I was in that apartment that late weekday evening.

As soon as he was hearing me describe more closely what I experienced during the scene with my new found friend, my roommate was immediately giving me almost accurate descriptions of the place. Looking worried, he was soon telling me that I should keep away from ever making it out again with that guy who he said is a criminal, as in someone who would go to expensive Manhattan restaurants to have dinner and not ever paying them. My friend added that this guy would have to hide himself among the thick foliage of mature trees that surround the said mansion one time the cops came trying to catch him. He also added that the place is known to have a few drug dealers living in some of the units. He soon followed it up by saying that the guy's HIV positive and that he gets financial assistance because of his health situation. I asked him how sure he was about his information, and he replied that he knew a personal friend who used to live with the said fellow.

Then I furtively stopped doing all the cleaning that I was engaged then while I was chatting with my roommate. I recall that I engaged in safe practices when I made it with that guy that particular night. I quickly had a barrage in mind of a long list of reminders so as to convince myself that it is not that bad as it seems to be from what I was just hearing from my well-intentioned roommate. Soon, my roommate had to chat on the phone with someone whose call came right there and then.

I was left to myself and was justifying what I've just done that particular night. I could not believe I was being so stupid. I was secretly shaking my head. And I proceeded to tell my landlord on what I just heard, thinking that it would help me get relieved somewhat. He was soon telling me about what happens to those who are promiscuous, indirectly describing me in the process. After a while, my other roommate showed up in the room and started sharing what he heard from me with our landlord. But he asked for my permission first, to which I agreed, to share it. The 3 of us were then having a heated discussion about the needs we have to fulfill to be happier in our lives, which desire does not mean endangering ourselves in the process. I convinced myself that I could barely detect a hint of hypocrisy from both of them, which I guess was due to the fact that I had been very open to them about things I do in bed whenever they ask me what I've been into lately. You know how most people are, they ask "How have you been doing these days?" There's a prime value on being honest with your roommates, being my personal policy when living with people I've not known before I came in this dwelling we all now share.

But it also occurred to me to ask my roommate to look into my new found friend's pictures online where I first saw him. My roommate agreed, and we were soon finding out that we were talking about the wrong person. My new found friend's a different one from the one my roommate had in mind. I felt instant relief. My roommate soon shared the information, too, to our landlord. My roommate proceeded to get to know more about the online site that I use for meet up purposes, among other, practical reasons why I get online to link up with people. I doubt if he'd use it as well; I know we've got different tastes when it comes to the type of people we prefer to meet up and have intimate relations with.

Talking About A Male Rape Experience During Intimate Moments

It's very strange to start talking about the topic of rape when you are engaged with someone in very intimate acts. Recently, in a meet up with a Puerto Rican friend with whom I go to bed with after we've discovered a lot of similarities in our tastes for food and having fun, and with whom I agree to being 'friends with benefits, he was asking me if I was ready to come. We were doing it for some time then, and I could see that he's got other things in mind to do before finally ending his evening. He would still be having to get up early the next morning. And he wanted to finish making the cake that one of his clients ordered. He knew that he had to do something more so I could come, if I really wanted to come, which is not normal in my case (coming is not the end-goal of this activity for me). 

I then asked him about his first fuck, as in "Who fucked you the first time?" Then his reply was totally unexpected.

"I was raped."

"By whom?," I took the chance to inquire, as if such details have to be known right away after getting myself shocked.

"Oh, there were 4 of them," he casually blurted out the number.

"When?," I asked as I grew more curious.

"I was 11 years old then. I didn't even know I would turn out to be gay," he added more details for my surprised ears to hear and analyze. And as far as I could recall now, he went on to provide me with some more details about these men who raped him. I would learn that he had to bring himself to the hospital after the scene was over. The event happened somewhere in Puerto Rico.

"Are they still alive? Do you still see them?"

"No. They're all dead now," he answered in a matter-of-fact style. I could imagine he's relieved about the fact but I could be mistaken. Who would ever forgot such horrible moments in one's life? Already distracted, I gave him a long loving look as I continued to work on myself so that both of us could be finished with our act. But I knew I got deeply distracted, and I had to keep a mental note that I should be writing about this information from my friend.

Now, I would recall similar stories from other men with whom I've been to bed with. I recall someone back in the Philippines, with whom I had sex with in a dingy movie theater, and who mentioned about how he was raped by an older guy when they found themselves alone in a beach during a family outing (I suppose he personally knew his assailant). I recall, too, what another dear friend who now passed on, told me how he was raped after being seduced by a much older, bigger man when he was still a young boy.

Are rape scenes ever sexy? 

Yes, male rapes have been going on as far as we would bother to recall. These are horrifying acts of violence, which should be stopped right away. I just wonder why we're not talking more openly about these rapes, too. I guess, it's the desire to be respectable among many of us, which we think would help us to lead better lives collectively. And we're missing now the opportunity to correct these terrible misdeeds. Remember, those who have experienced unresolved ill emotions due to acts of violence inflicted on them will continue to inflict such acts as well to their children and those whom they think are inferior to them. That's how they have learned early on. And such lessons are very difficult to overcome.


On Making It With A Park Avenue Building Irish Doorman All These Years

I have just chatted briefly on the phone with this friend whom I've met through over 6 years ago, and has since then grown into a fragile friendship that's always on the verge of being severed due to a complex host of reasons. Oh, well, first off, he's really a problematic character I have been fortunate to meet with here in New York City (NYC). He's both a Park Avenue building doorman and a superintendent for a walk-up apartment building in the Upper East Side.

I've learned a lot from him, particularly about racism and racial discrimination here in NYC, the subtleties of which could have continued to be lost to me if I didn't meet him. For example, he once told me that no Filipino tenant occupies the exclusive Park Avenue building he works for all these many years. I mean he can't imagine Filipinos being so wealthy --- there are so many wealthy people in the Philippines such that they are insecure in keeping their wealth and would not think of sharing any part of it to most people. Just observe the contrast of the haves and the have not's when you find yourself in the Philippines. 

My friend also once said that he'd seen maids who are from the Philippines, and one of them works for the household of a tenant's family who live in his building. I mean, I would normally be horrified listening to him about such culturally insensitive remarks, but I know I can make my own share of biased remarks, without myself being aware of what I've been making. For example: I would tell some of those guys I meet about the other black guys I've met these past years. I simply couldn't get away from this reprehensible focus on highlighting skin color as if matters really at the very core of what connects us as humans, even if we're together making love or something sort of like it. 

I'm just annoyed from time to time whenever I meet up with my Irish friend. He's actually from Ireland, from Galway where one of my favorite writers, James Joyce, hails from. Imagine how he speaks, as he's got that particular accent. I guess he's simply amazed at how I go about speaking, reading, writing in English, which he claims, apparently, to being exclusively for people like himself. But that can't be practical as the English language for all these centuries has spread its usage worldwide, including those of us who come from the Philippines, originally. And I don't intend to apologize for my English; I'm very proud that I can speak, read, write most excellently in English. Whatever flaws you see are just 'flaws' and I can pinpoint to you purists SO MANY examples when the so-called "native English speakers" (btw, are there really such beings in a globalized environment, internet-crazy-linkages we have in our midst these days?) make terrible mistakes themselves so regularly (I don't even go out of my way to correct them --- a language like English is very dynamic, anyway, so what's the main point of being a language purist? Does it pay to be one, by the way?).

This Irish man looks like Richard Gere, even in his middle aged years, and stands tall like him. I appreciate him for who he is as a person. He loves nature and he's very nonchalant in his ways although I know he needs to show an image of formality when he does his work as a doorman. But I can imagine exactly what happens, especially when he tells me about his cruising activities, including one story I heard from him that dealt about his encounter with a Latino guy who gave him an awesome fucking experience.

Whatever we do whenever we meet depends really on the mood of the occasion. He loves to turn his fantasies into reality whenever we're together. But he also makes use of my help whenever it's convenient for him --- it's the hallmark of some people I've met here in NYC. And I'm just greatly amused by his behavior (no wonder he's decided to just stick to what he's conveniently been doing all these years of living in NYC). I guess he hates the image that he projects to me, so he can't help but to make very sarcastic, bordering-on-the-insulting remarks whenever we have a conversation. I just keep cool, remain quiet, and take my time for vengeance in small actions meant to make him see me as a person, and not someone like those typical characters he meets and who behave as if material wealth is only what matters in life and living. 

We need each other, somewhat, and hence we continue to meet. I keep very upfront in my dealings with him. I'm happy as I am, gratefully. I've grown to know that I have to keep a very diverse set of friends and acquaintances in my network, especially in a city as big as NYC. Failure to do so will get me to wearing invinsible blinders that make me not see and appreciate what's inherently beautiful and great with human beings.

Some Growlr Exchange With A 'Bottom Indian'

Hello! How r u today? Thanks for checking out my profile here... 
Fuck me 
I cant today...wednesday next week will for me...where do u live? Can u host? 
Can u host 
It is complicated. I have to introduce u 1st to my landlord & roommates, then we can do it in my room d next few times u visit d house
 The come pick me up
Sorry, i don't drive... 
Wow u suck
Ha ha ha u r really an Indian, nothing matters to u except material wealth.....good riddance! 
(I didn't edit the lines anymore even though you'd see errors there. Are Pakistani members of the LGBT community really like this one? I hope I'm just mistaken and it was just my fortune to meet someone like him that day online.)

Two in a Day, and It Could Have Been Three in 2 Succeeding Days

The first time meeting with dude #1 took place in the morning in Jersey City in New Jersey, just across my borough in Staten Island. I would hear his remark that he thought Staten Island is actually New Jersey in his mind, which was OK with me and I could understand from where he is saying such an observation. This happened after we've been done with steamy sex that included a hot tub bath together, which we took right in the backyard facing someone else's house and a blooming magnolia tree. In the midst of our activities together, I did business prospecting with him, and he was aware of me being engaged in my building my business such that he made sure I would listen as well to details on how he's happily and quietly leading his life with his husband. And we did everything in bed that imaginable during those 4 hours or so in that 3-story single family house that he shares with his husband with whom he has been involved with for at least 11 years. I would notice that he prepared so well for this meeting, which I believe is a reflection of his mental strength as shown, among so many things I saw while I was in that house, by the fact that he's a college math professor and does editing of academic journal articles as well.

Subsequently, later that night, I met for the first time with a prospect, dude # 2 who is Puerto Rican divorced from his wife and who had 2 children who are now dead, in West Brighton in Staten Island. His place is a few steps from a peaceful view afforded by its location on top of a hill that includes scenes of parks, houses, the water, and the foliage in that part of Staten Island facing New Jersey. He lives with his 2 tiny dogs, and explains that a good friend, whom I suspect is one of his former lovers, would show up early in the morning and stay for some hours during the day. He bakes cakes for a living, mainly, and receives disability of some sort from the federal government. 

I don't need to present more details and contrast their styles as they're 2 different individuals with very distinct life histories. I would emphasize that I totally enjoyed the pleasure of their company. Who knows if I'll meet with them again and again? I know I would still meet up with them sooner or later. The next day, I thought I would meet with a third one and engage again in intimate activities, even for brief moments. But this didn't happen. I was just too tired after doing all my activities that included a long meeting somewhere in Flushing, Queens.That prospective meeting would have been with a much younger guy who is black and does maintenance works for a living. I've written about him earlier in this blog site. He's sexy, desirable, and very versatile in his ways in bed with me. I thought that makes him very sexy, which has got me thinking of him even if I just did it twice in a row some hours past. But physical limits got me doing something else. I decided to go home, instead.

Making It With a Maintenance Fellow

In one those smartphone apps that allow you to connect and network with others, I got the chance to meet someone who looks far better in his pictures than in person. Well, that's unusual as it is. But what's more unusual was discovering that he lives with his friend, the details of which almost got me backing out of my first chance to meet with him. I was caught totally surprised by it. But my very strong sense of adventure would get the better of me so I took the chance that first time. He and I would soon be making it in bed even if I felt somewhat disappointed upon looking at his face. He's got really red pouting lips but he would give me that look like he's shy and his eyes would look starting from the bottom and directed to the top of his vision. It gives me the idea that he's really shy and ready to get whatever it is that the other person would give him in return. But it's a different experience altogether being in bed with him. 

While in bed, I would see his friend give us snatches of his own curiosity as he would come into the door and look at us, as if he's having a preview of a porn movie being made on that bed in their 1 bedroom apartment on that street that's a few blocks away from the real Chinatown of New York City (NYC). This guy's white and the one in bed with me is black. Needless to say, a lot of things would come into mind while making it with this guy, but these distractions would be gone soon as he and I click very well in bed.

He's a maintenance guy, someone who's doing custodian works in a federal government building in Manhattan, which gives me the idea that he's got a relatively stable job that he could keep until he's retired or until he's disabled. And he's still in his 30s, so I have a feeling he'll just stick it up with this full time, manual job unless he's got other desires in his life that he wants to work on and pursue. 

His friend, I would later come to know, works with another federal government office, and he's a psychologist. I would hear him complain about his co-workers who could probably be the most inept in his own view of the world, probably not realizing that such situation runs along similar lines in other organizations. I think I recognize the feeling he's got, including the frustration. I've been prospecting both of them for my franchise business, which I look forward to having good outcomes in due time. 

In the meantime, I continue meeting with my friend. I've been told that I could come anytime I want (I guess I would have to coordinate the schedules, of course). We would still make it in the same bed that he shares with his friend. I'd ask them if they're lovers, but they both denied it. Upon more queries I took the chance to get answers from them, I would learn they had met in a bathhouse in that section of Flushing, Queens in NYC that had since then been closed. What a convoluted but rather intriguing story, I noted to myself. 

Something Not To Be Missed When It Comes to the World of Dancing: Dominican stripper - XTube Porn Video - boricuarican

Dominican stripper - XTube Porn Video - boricuarican

Make sure you have watched the whole video before you started reading this. I'm excited by the video mostly because the performer was performing before a mixed crowd of Latinos and Latinas that are known to be ultra masculine and sexy, respectively, in the images they project to outsiders. You'd be hard pressed to identify the sexual preferences of any of those persons you'd see involved in the video. Nothing much is new about this, mainly because such events have happened in so many places before. In fact, I've seen a documentary on Oprah's Channel on couples who involve themselves most intimately with other partners. Some people like to call this polyamory, just to give it a convenient label. But what's really in a word? Behaviors that are covered by this label are found in many groups anywhere in the world. It won't even surprise me that such behaviors are more prevalent than what's imagined and would like to be talked about and covered in mainstream media. Some are just appalled by such practices, period.

I recall my exchanges online with a Filipino-American who was raised here in the West Coast of USA. He's now retired from his career as a military guy and a business person. He's retired with his current wife who was from the Philippines, too. And he confided to me how he despise his current existence there in the Philippine islands. The way he shared and described his situation there is that he can't just be himself. He had been a practicing bisexual, which aspect of him was brought about when he was still married to his other Asian wife with whom he had encounters making it with other guys in their bed. He would begin to understand why (some) women enjoy the mind-boggling pleasures of being fucked.

This acquaintance misses the days when he would make it with other guys. He simply couldn't risk anymore to be out to his wife and family, it seems to me. It's similar to those lines told to me by a former fuck buddy I had who's Irish, Catholic, from the upper middle class, a retired corporate guy, married with 3 lovely daughters. He simply loves Asians and anyone who's got darker skin. He told me that the minute his wife would find about his gay practices, the marriage would be over. I actually tried to send him an email but it would bounce back to me. This means he's been beyond my contact, unless he goes out of his way to contact me. I do hope he's still doing good; I recall he lives upstate and that he would get in touch with me one of these days.

I'm trying to understand how it is really to be in such states of sexuality. I like to be empathetic and become a better person from doing so. I don't want to even look at such situations as means for people to take advantages of others who lead secret lives, aspects of which are pretty obvious to some of us who have been there before. It's dangerous and personally draining of one's energies. I wonder if the performer, those who were watching him, and those who were participating in his performance were really having fun. It looks like a private party, anyway. I think they were enjoying themselves, more than anything else that I like to imagine. But I think things would be totally different if some of them would realize that their partners prefer partners of the same sex. Or am I just imagining situations here? Help me get enlightened.

My "GoodReads" reviews

The Garden of Two Dragons Fucking The Garden of Two Dragons Fucking by Jerusalino V. Araos

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
remarkably illustrated, concise, and irreverent (not a porno book, whatsoever)!!! an old friend lent me a copy years ago, and have found it very fascinating. of course, part of the excitement of reading this book is it's "curious" title. it's actually a children's book, (would you believe?), by araos, a respected artist in the philippines. the title may be offensive to most adults who have concerns about "fucking," but i'd believe parents would become more authentic as "persons" (who get hurt, need to be loved, need to love as well, etc.) to their children, if they get to have them read this book. you may not need to explain the title, as there's really no need for it. its being "irreverent" is mainly because of the use of the word 'fucking' & nothing else. it's all about discovering your being you as a person, pursuing your dreams, and not that one person others may have in mind when they see you. i could not get hard copies of this book myself, so i kept a xeroxed copy of it in my library back in the philippines.

View all my reviews.