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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!

Showing posts with label Luneta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luneta. Show all posts

2. The Cruisin' Domain

The book is now available, in hardcover,  paperback & ebook formats from my online storeAmazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.comPowell's Books, and other online stores. 




courtesy of Facebook's OLD MANILAcourtesy of Facebook's OLD MANILA

"Victoria Kapauan-Gaerlan photos"

“But walls do not make for good neighbors, for whom we wall in, we also wall out. We therefore create a dialectical even, even an antagonistic relation between those inside and those outside. And that is exactly what happened, the Spaniards created more enemies. In the 16th and 17th centuries that were the indigenous Philippine population Spain sought to sublime, and the Dutch who courted Spain and Portugal’s monopoly of trade in the Far East; in the 18th the British; and in the 19th other European powers, and throughout all the centuries of colonial rule, the Islamic communities of the South.”
Rene B. Javellana

(Hmmmmm……In describing the Walls, I am generally reminded of the wafting light, pure smoke from that hot thick chocolate freshly served in most breakfast mornings in Southern Luzon provinces. These wafts of smoke generate dreamy yet snatches of gray-dominated blue hues of landscapes at the recesses of my mind where I presumed the images of those people I encountered have forever been etched , deposited in memory, and ready to be recalled in garish, incomplete sketches)

The cruising area actually runs the whole walking areas of Lawton, the Main Post Office Building, the Mehan Garden (now developed as a quite fitting garden by FVR’s unusually common yet always politically correct wife, Ming Ramos, has since then continued, by the current Administration) as well the dank, filthy, feces-filled Quiapo Bridge. The area likewise includes the area beside the former Finance Building, which has now been converted as part of the National Museum Complex. At times, as the need calls for it, just like those nights when I made it with some physically interesting individuals, this extends up to the other side of the foot of Jones Bridge beside Feati University. In fact, the peripheral area of the Luneta forms part of the whole open cruising area in Manila. What principally separates the area is the presence of pimps and hookers who cover the Luneta belt. In the Chocolate Hills, you may actually laugh aloud at someone who will try to solicit for money for casual sex. Practically, it’s a “free for all” as they say.

Of course, there have been other cruising fields nationwide. For the more familiar samplers, these fields cover where I have encountered people actively on the look-out for prospects. These places are found in metropolitan areas where most people would consider others who are milling in the area to be people who wander in and out in guise of pursuing their personal businesses seemingly on the surface: the Ugarte Field in Makati, the CCP reclamation area going towards Baclaran, the Forbes-Espana portion just outside the walls of the UST (Southeast Asia’s oldest university), the Quezon Memorial Circle, Burnham Park in Baguio City, Puerto Galera’s silvery yet more white than gray-colored beaches in northern Mindoro, the fringes of Boracay’s mile-long White Beach as well as the Plaza and nearby areas along the Osmena Circle, and the Cebu City Cathedral. Notably, these spaces provide expansive views that may not be literally but at least figuratively, for pleasure, or mere companion seekers, at least furtively even for a few hours of solace from dissonant voices heard from all others who are apparently non-accepting of this lifestyle we lead.

These days, most malls nationwide serve as cruising arenas, to include as well most theatres, particularly those inside the malls. There has to be something common among these places. I have actually read how the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism come up with the prostitution among the unguided, lost youth being preyed on by flesh-eating moneyed, disturbed folks who seek them out all these time practically in all malls. The scene is rather, familiar, as the literary sophisticate gets to read a familiar account in one of the books of Jean Genet. Yet, a distinguished place is seemingly given, reserved to a certain extent to the cruising area in Manila. We just distinguish it somehow, as Manila has remained to be culturally engaging location that's found in a highly urbanized metropolis. Some senior cruisers have remarked that prior to seeing those earlier cited areas burgeoned to becoming principal cruising fields themselves, the Walls along the Chocolate Hills have been there way, way much ahead.

Practically, generations of cruisers have paraded and sashayed along this field one way or another - cruisers who have remained silent to others on the Walls’ known notoriety, but not exactly dubious existence. This cruising scene takes place even now, yet admittedly, the quality has diminished to a great degree. Why, perhaps, and can we ever get to know what happened then?

Yet, these areas expand to what used to be conveniently known as the Chocolate Hills. They, who have come and gone a lot, lot earlier fondly, referred to this cruising area as such. The whole cruising scene at the Intramuros walls remains to be an interesting study, even todate - inspite of the developments lately, and despite the absence of past cruising evenings when I saw swarms of cruisers, just like myself.

To start, I like to propose that Intramuros actually remains to be a special place in Manila. Both administratively due to the government as well as due to legendary notions we loftily have about things of old. Among the Philippines’ National Artists, esteemed writer Nick Joaquin, by way of his books and other writings, have continued raving on its preeminence as a cultural spot in Manila. One can get around the walls in three hours of leisurely walk with full attention to what can be sensed along the way. Or one may opt to just cover the Walls by walking on top of its remaining and restored portions.

This cultural section is actually one of the remaining areas in Manila where there is still the presence of much open space needed in doing reflections, whenever one’s life have gone awry or another. Suddenly, one gets to ask why the whole of Manila has gone so polluted, densely populated, maddeningly violent, and yet, we have recently begun appreciating and correcting the value of managing the rate of development in this side of the Philippines. All these different experiences take place in this tract of the old Manila while meditating on the scenes below and beyond the peripherals of the Walls.

Being cumulatively developed as a physical place of our heritage and cultural past for over three hundred years, we have been drawn one way or another to these walls. The Intramuros Walls actually stand on the same site of Rajah Soliman’s old palisaded fort. Pondering on the indicated dates of red bricks on the Walls, some of which are dated from 1987, or at times mistakenly looking like 1897, I have attempted to continue collecting my thoughts. Somehow, I like to believe that the Intramuros Administration (the official government office tasked to oversee the general maintenance and development of the specially designated district) has done its job well inspite of the usual lack of funds and the apparent absence of general interest in things cultural by the typical fellow just beside you in a jeepney ride.

Still, some may have found Intramuros to be unappealing, particularly those with ideas of a designated tourist spot where people actually live is typically Disneyland. The younger generation may find it boring and uninteresting. This may be largely due to poor marketing approaches in coming up with the proper advertising and promotions to make Intramuros brightly and vibrantly appealing to the majority market sector. The design and implementation of programs to highlight the strengths of Intramuros, call for a leadership style with flair, even in a symbolic manner.

Other than those well-preserved commercial-cum-residential heritage locations mostly in Luzon like Vigan (in Ilocos Sur), and Taal (in Batangas), Intramuros remains a central vestige of the Philippines’ Hispanic heritage, being located in the country’s capital city. So as to put a stop to the slow degeneration of the Walls due to inability to sustain the interests of the majority of our youth, we need a different framework in our approaches in updating Intramuros.

Some cheeky suggestions to boot, that I hope can be put in place, by the community at large, in one variant or another, come into mind. More than just making the Walls a periodic topic in travelogues, we need to make it more relevant to the majority. Though this may call for more political decisiveness, we can make the sector more liveable and vibrant by targetting the young from 18 to 40 years old, those with the gung-ho attitidue in life, into developing their affordable homes in the historic vicinity (if this may not be considered sacrilegious enough by most purists). Schools and universities are within the Walls are okay, as they make Intramuros look uptodate and populous at least in the morning, but we normally look for other places of interests in spots like Intramuros. We look forward to seeing more activity laden spots inside Intramuros, more than beyond museums, libraries, small parks, and food booths. A tram service can be ideally put in place, at least one electrically run system that will pass by all major encircling paths with designated stops in (or outside, as the case maybe) the Walls. A palengke, on a smaller scale, say two blocks though as it may lead to dirt collection related problems, may yet turn Intramuros to be more livelier and economically active. Or we can select and put in place the state-of-the-art facilities and infrastructure to have Intramuros become the hub of internet service providers, where cybercafes may also proliferate at rates affordable to the studentry.

We can help evolve Intramuros into a more unique heritage location that will be a major benchmark that has been well preserved, and notably well restored among the rest of Hispanic cities in the world. But as we proceed with this, we get the feel that everything in Intramuros is dated, even the very act of thinking of refurbishing the image of Intramuros.

But there are those who have found Intramuros to be a place beyond their wildest night dreams. My share of these stories continue, but we need to put the Walls first in their more proper perspective in a kaleidoscopic, whirlwind approach in the next few chapters of this writing endeavor.

You get to discover many interesting facts about Intramuros, if you decide to cruise there yourself. Also, there are the surviving churches namely San Agustin Church and the Manila Cathedral – structures which have stood despite the Great War, fires and earthquakes. The former being the only edifice among twelve churches in the pre war Intramuros to have remained relatively unscathed by the massive bombing of Manila during the Great War. It actually forms part of the list of cultural heritage structures, which the United Nations has lately been developing and preserving, especially the San Agustin Church that repainted itself in its claimed-original cream, colored hues, very similar to the hues found in century-old churches in Southern Iloilo. We note as well that the tomb of one of the colonizing founders of Manila, has been laid in crypt inside the San Agustin Church.

While the relatively newer Manila Cathedral, with its great cupola, being a reconstructed concrete Gothic inspired structure based on the surviving pre-war plans, has actually evolved from the blueprints of earlier versions. The Cathedral has undergone a number of reconstruction and restorations in the past due also to quite a number of fires, earthquakes and human whims. It seems to signal that life indeed in Manila is jutted with one or more of those natural calamities that strike people out of their deadening, slow paced, insecure lives in the Capital. For starters, they might have wanted to find time in pondering on its modern and quaint series of glass stained windows depicting varied religious events and personalities.

There are still the ruins near the Arzobispo St of the former San Ignacio Church whose Doric design can still be figured out. Also, several appealing monuments can be found littered in the vicinity of the Walls. These have been mainly done in the classical mode. Some have stood for a time; some have been more recent for the memory of those souls who have gone before us. Among which include the classically rendered Legazpi and Urdaneta Monument on the corner of Burgos St and Bonifacio Drive with the one side of the Manila Hotel fronting it. Recently, Ninoy Aquino’s statue has started standing there. Also, the Isabel II monument, the stamp of which says it has been transferred from one site to another, after it had languished for long period of time in a warehouse somewhere during the Spanish period. Of more recent vintage is the very classical monument of the esteemed painter Juan Luna very near the Puerta Real. Yes, the Fort Santiago which contains the Rizal Shrine, with the ever changing skyline of Binondo across the Pasig River as one looks over at the horizon, remains interesting enough, inspite of some questionable markers, plus the dubious efforts to mine supposedly buried treasure in the site. PETA’s plays are also still being performed in a uniquely designed open theatre inside the Fort. Some of these stageplays on alternative relationships and lifestyles have interestingly provided a deeper context of what takes in the wider expanse of the Intramuros. If only those who have watched these plays have known, they would have appreciated all those scenes in a more, spirited manner. To move forward along the remaining Walls of the Intramuros, we find some aberrations to cater to certain needs of the business sector. To account for this in particular, the golf course has sprouted and has been recently improved to cater to particular well paying sector.

There are also the other structures that have sprouted recently in the grand Castillian design of architecture, without any note from any particular period. The more notable among these are the reconstructed Palacio del Gobernador, the Casa Manila Museum, and the San Luis Complex. These buildings are actually being lived in and used by a variety of hosts and organizations. They include office workers, restaurants, trading houses, government offices, colleges, museums, manning offices, shipping lines, publishing houses, and, of course, as residential houses. Of course, the squatters are still there (although their numbers have diminished somewhat or they must have been better organized lately). Yet, nothing beats the Walls that cover the peripherals of Intramuros itself. I have yet to overcome this sense of intrigue whenever I recall memories that took place in these Walls (as well as nearly outside its peripherals).

The Walls fronting the Manila Hotel have been restored in the mid 80’s. We now see remnants of the very old Bastion de San Diego. Curiously, this site never fails to put forward all kinds of interesting imaginations as I gaze before circular formations of granites and slabs of stone that used to be fortifications against the dreaded enemies of the Spaniards then. Even the top couple among the royalty of Spain, that used to colonize the Philippines for nearly four hundred years, took time out to visit this set of ruins. I’ve felt odd looking at their published photos as they gawked on the circular concrete remains of structures where the Spanish military before used to keep materials for use against attacks and monumental events. The installed marker says the circular formations also used to serve as warehouses for canonpowder, and other armaments, and the whole place itself is one of the oldest sections of the Intramuros Walls. From time to time, golfballs get to accidentally drop from their intended trajectories and coming down to earth instead on top of these Walls where there are sections ready to catch these balls which people living in the area collect for resale later at very cheap prices.

A walking tour which I may usually start from atop any of the nearby gates always leads my feet in routing towards an impressive view of the golf course, and the structures enclosed by the Walls, including ruins of Fr Blanco’s Garden, the unmarked government warehouse where COMELEC garbage ballot boxes are stocked, among others. On certain days, particularly on weekends, men gather to engage in fishing using a hook or a rod for the catch swimming in one of the manmade ponds in the golf course. One never get to ignore the presence of a giant machine gun, which we hope is no longer functional, installed along a yawning gap of the section of the Wall fronting Burgos St. leading towards the Manila Hotel on the perpendicular side. This huge machine gun, a very rare WW II relic that is ominously pointed towards the direction of the Luneta, has survived the Great War, and I guess, it will serve as a reminder to those in the present generation, until another War comes again for more irreparable devastation.

I once had the chance to take a stroll inside the small separate fort of San Pedro, one rainy morning. I recall having seen inside the enclosed Walls some huge bottled containers with unmistakable long human bones inside, crudely exhibited to make a statement about the destruction of the Walls. Just like one of the smaller forts (now still closed) inside Fort Santiago, these bones were collected from the diggings made in the area. I remember having read somewhere that the place was one of the bloody sites of the Siege of Manila in the last moments of WWII. I just wonder why this small Fort has remained closed todate. Also, the authorities have now removed some of the “professional” squatters who used to occupy this side of the Walls. Their former presence gives a different flavor of backdrop that are familiarly felt and seen in some Lino Brocka films showing contrasts of poor squatters’ areas set against solid, high Walls from another milleau.

Among other experiences, I’ve seen some vagabond breed of fellows catching low flying quail birds in the area where some small trees are now struggling to grow. Perhaps, the catch would serve as the day’s meal. As usual, heady events take place in the whole length of this Section, mainly in the evening, even with all the security guards roaming around. From one of the jutting outposts atop the Walls fronting the Manila Hotel, which we usually see in most advertisements on the Intramuros Walls, I saw some emerging bodies. One by one, the three fellows walked passed by me. We gave each other due recognition. All three had the look of having just made it, I felt envious, I thought I needed to proceed myself.

I also remember having been to the old Manila Aquarium in Puerta Real when I was still in grade school. I recall having been given the tour, together with my classmates, inside the Walls one very late afternoon. After our class had just been finished touring some other spots in Manila (including that Martial-Law Era cultural exhibit put in place at the Central Post Office in Lawton on the excavated life-size army of sculptures to guard the tomb of a very important ancient Chinese Emperor). As far as I could recall from some extant memory pieces, the Aquarium was pretty unique. I remember, the Aquarium had had many big size fish glass tanks where we could gaze innocently at those interesting and pretty colored fishes. I was pretty much in a daze while looking at those fishes in the Aquarium, underneath the mossy and dark colored concrete ceiling from wall to wall. We emerged from the Walls already in the very early evening. My teacher must have thought of sharing us the experience of seeing the district as she must have thought that it looks better in the evening as its brightly lighted. But then, I remember our bus going through some dark and deserted side streets in Intramuros as our bus proceeded to the Fort Santiago. Even then, my main recollection of Intramuros has been that of “covering darkness that envelops ourselves.” In any case, I never heard of that old Manila Aquarium for a long time again in the papers until only lately in 1998 when it was reopened again by another enterprising group.

During one of my visits to the Geronimo Berenguer De Los Reyes Museum inside the Gateway Business Park in General Trias, Cavite, I chanced upon old photos of Intramuros. I just couldn’t fathom the process as to how this whole area, I call the Walls, have turned into a cruising ground. Perhaps, there has simply been the need to come up with a place where many men in a particular need may get to encounter some others who can provide for the absolution of their urgent need, even for quite a short passing few minutes, come rain or shine. The photos shown in the Museum looked like they were very comfortable and languid, though, the houses are definitely looking rather stylized European set of architecture in a warm, Southeast Asian country. Even the interior of the houses looked European, coyly copying anything from that Continent which people then thought to be superior than what the locals had then outside Intramuros and, practically the whole country. Everything about the photos showed people who lived in a slow and relaxed pace, except perhaps those in Chinatown, across the Pasig River, where even then quite a number of shops were already recognizable. From the faces of the those people pictured and posing gamely in the photos, I could feel the kind of laidback lifestyle that the people then pursued almost daily, until all the Wars that took place permanently vanished any vestige of this lifestyle nowadays.

People living in the Walls seemingly had that strong sense of seclusion inside the Walls. Moats protected the Walls from intrusions from all its side, except perhaps the area near the Intendencia. I was pretty curious about this old photo showing the Ateneo de Manila’s bridge structure connecting two buildings across streets, looking so Venetian without the murky water that flows underneath. All the other photos showing Intramuros, reveal fascinating intricate and intrusive details. It seemed to me that even during those times, people went on cruising the Walls to get into the other aspects of their lives. The Walls had the feel of an aged elevated promenading area, with tall, old trees, excepting those portions in the Walls where the military had lodged themselves to cast out the ordinary mortals. Would these people had they lived their lives now, allow all these ongoing heady events taking place in the Walls? Practically all these went up the smoke and massive artillery bombings particularly during the time when General McArthur’s forces were retrieving Manila from the crazy-stricken Japanese.

- “The move by certain sectors to cheapen the Intramuros Wall should be met with angry protests by us, the ROTC cadets of the Adamson University in December 1941. We consider the Intramuros Wall hallowed ground. On dec. 8, 1941, the day after Pearl Harbor was bombed, we had our baptism of fire there.

At 9 a.m. , a Japanese Zero (as the enemy plane was called) strafed the machine gun emplacement on top of the Intramuros Wall beside the Adamson University. The two cadets operating the machine gun were protected only by a small steel plate. They bravely returned fire.

Inside the university, cadet officers armed with automatic rifles lay prone and looked up to the open skylight of the atrium, waiting for the Japanese Zero in case it would come back to strafe again.

When a Filipino looks at the Intramuros Wall, he should observe a moment of silence for the Adamson University cadets who were among the first to fight so that Filipinos might live in freedom.” -
Isagani G. Bautista Sr
(Letters of the Editor, Philipine Daily Inquirer August 29, 2000)

It dawned on me that even during the Spanish Period, the Walls of Intramuros already looked aged. It’s as if they’re standing there for quite a long while. It’s as if these Walls have been standing all there along even before the other structures have been put in place. There was one photo which shows the remains of concrete structure after a major earthquake, and it seems only the Walls had endured the earthshaking intensity that shook down to their foundations the other structures. This is the same look, same feel even these days for the ruins, which I have discovered during my motions of my concerns. Looking as ancient as they were even in those old photos, these Walls must have undergone so much, more than the kind of exposure that they have day in and day out all these hundreds of years.

Creative Commons License
Angels in Disguise (Leavings & Goings at the Chocolate Hills) by Jerome Baladad is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at dyerohmebmovingon.wordpress.com.

9. Some Unfinished Ventures

The book is now available, in hardcover,  paperback & ebook formats, from my online storeAmazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.comPowell's Books, and other online stores. 
Index:
a personal discourse to help myself explain poverty in the Philippine setting
the Intramuros viewpoint of Mr Behn Cervantes
a classic encounter with a fellow whose predicament is his size
a seemingly empty cruising night
A Pangasinan fellow who works with the Manila Bulletin
A Bicolano fellow who works in Cavite
A version of Julie Andrews’ My Favorite Things


Just how do I explain streetchildren who dominate the night population in the Walls lately - their presence I do not recall to have been around when I had cruised in the area in the beginning years of my “cruising life.” They seek alms, your pity, your attention as they cover the dark, faceless inroads of the City. Some even behave very awkward and aloof yet at the same longing for some piece of attention from onlookers and other creatures at the Walls. Some look thin, some dirty, some untidy, yet some are really just tired with their presence in this side of the City. Some smell real bad, some smell like burnt skin, some like cheap and over the counter medicines, some reek with lead pollution that emanates from all vehicles that pass at this side of the City. Some are really desirable.

But then again, I like to question “who’s to blame?” We do not expect the government, particularly the respective social work departments of the local government units to file charges to their parents. Will these charges ever prosper, if ever the local social work honchos decide to become severe with the parents? I suppose, the parents must have been one way or another, been “lost” themselves, thus they have no qualms on their children’s “lost” presence in the Walls. God forbid, but these children easily turn out to be pawns in the continuing search for the ideal “partner” for a while by those who gather in the Walls. Some cruisers have grown a taste for them. They look very desirable, and pliable, in a manner that’s is as ghastly as most of us may look at such sexual desires for children by some adults amidst our kind.

“Streetchildren” is a developing phenomenon. It’s everything but a constant element in any major city like Manila - an expansive urban location that has grown beyond its means and borders, of being unable to confront its present status, and just letting the course of the future take assembly and presentation without much required and well thought response, even in a respectable semblance. But then again, London has been described by Charles Dickens in the 19th century of possessing “streechildren” of some other kind, in a few of his novels. I told myself, I must have been seeing beyond the dirty skin surface of these streechildren what others may have been seeing but I have been refusing to see reflective images within myself. In this lifestyle, I realize almost all grow “skin flakes” to help cover up something that is disgusting on the surface. Yet, this attitude is rather very presumptuous. I seem to have been trying to know everything, which is an improbability. I have been trying, all along, to make sense about the whole dynamic scenario of what exists and takes place in the Walls.

Economic indicators point out how bad living conditions have turned out progressively, despite of analysts who point out the otherwise, particularly for the “poorest of the poor.” But who (really) cares? I see them everywhere, not only here at the Walls. They have remained constant reminders of how badly things have turned out in our economic lives, at least.

Surely, I remain unconvinced and pessimistic about the whole show of efforts to help provide bridging facilities to the most poverty stricken among us. Material poverty continues to exist, mainly due to greed, of the extreme kind, that permeates every level of our collective selves. I never fail to see a reflection of myself from the languishing looks of streetchildren that I get to “encounter” in the Walls nowadays. Yet, probing more closely, they are not far different from my kind, as well as the rest of the more, materially wealthy. I can’t help but recognize the utter absence of spirit, that loving kind of spirit, amongst most of those in the privileged sections of our community, even at least, among the local ones in Manila.

How do get to shed myself of the guilt that I had, when I made it with at least, three of these streetchildren, whom prior to the encounter, looked as physically mature as the rest of the others in cruise. We don’t normally announce our age to strangers, unless this is a specification for an invitation to be extended by a prospective partner. I am even quite unsure as to these numbers I have in mind this time. I simply couldn’t discern that I was actually making it with these children. Looking back, I’m bothered about how debased I’ve become when I got to realize this.

Actually, do I even have to consider them as streetchildren, or something else? After my coming, I couldn’t help hold myself in disbelief in engaging it out with these poor fellows, like myself. One even asked for some amount to complement his daily school allowance (At least, I told myself, I was able to help, to remove guilt feelings for even for awhile), as we were putting our clothes on inside that motel along Sta Cruz.

Consistently wearing that dirty, raggedy image that makes me ponder on the meaning of my Christian beliefs.

“Who is clean?” (them or myself?), as I murmured to myself as most of them congregate in the Walls just as to have some kind of a spot to sleep on for the night, particularly during warm summer nights. I get to meet a bunch of them nowadays. They look confused, yet they appear cheerful. Definitely, they possessed that different kind of hungry look, unlike the type that I see from those who wander around the Walls for sex.

I’ve seen the Police patrol cars swiftly passing by the area, and they seem to have ignored the presence of these roaming streetchildren. In the process, the Police fail to see these streetchildren into this bad habit of sniffing rugby, the chemical that I think can help them calm their tired nerves, and forget about life’s cares (and develop drug dependency in the process). Do I still expect myself to report to the Police that I’ve seen these young people attempt to destroy themselves? I guess, I must have grown insensitive from engaging in activities deemed to be out of the law. I see most of them in their pre adolescent years. Yet I’ve seen some young looking, reed-thin girls who are already heavily pregnant. And I take a second look at the other young boys who are with them. They must have been friends. They must have copulated in a convenient space that they have discovered in their forays in the Walls. I get the feel that these misplaced youths likewise find time to study the presence of other cruisers like myself. They must have been wondering as well why men frequently walk to and fro in the spot, and like to lurk in dark and leafy areas.

Yet they’re never disdainful. We co-exist, peacefully, somehow. Until perhaps, come another evening, when the Police will hound us out of the area.

I have, nevertheless, observed that they must have thought of me as someone who happened to be passing by. And there were even batches before who have thought of me as the Police, who have come to gather them all to jail or somewhere else. Some even have gone to approach me to ask for some change, which I almost always refuse.

I’ve seen most of these streetchildren along Burgos St just after the passing the National Museum. Some passengers in the jeepneys find time to gawk at them, and I could see the flinching feelings like startled surprises, and boredom, at an instant from their faces.

I’ve thought of them as prospects as well, at one point, yet just how do I make myself think of the erotic, the minute I take a long serious look at them. They actually mirror the kind of countenance that I must have possessed when I was engaged in my first few cruises in the Walls.

In the earlier periods of my cruising activities, I’ve seen a singular young man, every now and then, who is out to sell a piece of himself to any takers. The type has the same studied approach towards his clients. He would be demanding cash immediately in exchange for his body, any which way you may desire him to reach you physically, if you can endure being physically attracted to children in their awkward innocence. What’s bothersome is you have a feeling that these children are already very sophisticated in all practical matters related to sex. They could have learned their first few lessons via the ever present TV, or some abusive adult in the family. They must have been exposed for a long time to pornographic materials we normally see in certain magazines, newspapers, comics, and other free printed materials. They abound our whole growing up environment, it seem. You can, nevertheless, be reassured that there might be poor chances of you being the first initiator of actual sex in their lives. You seldom meet the kind here at the Walls.

I recall one very young teenager whom I’ve seen at least more than 10 times in the area. He doesn’t even recognize that I’ve refused him in the past, yet he persists on having me bite his bait.
* * * * * * *

But of course, as sages before of us have said repeatedly, change do happen all the time. The Walls have been transformed into some kind of a place where other kinds of people now go and congregate for some other reasons, other than to cruise and be cruised. We've gone very far from how people with different sexual orientations have been regarded by polite society. There's still no same-sex marriage recognition, which may happen in time. This will just happen when the common folk become more open minded to other people's way of living. This continues to be a dream. As long as there are no brave human beings out there willing to take the risk to show and be more normal about leading their lives the way they want them led, nothing much will happen on these desired changes. Besides, there will always be the lack for leaders, particularly among those who are in positions of power and authority, who would show and lead the way to make the majority realize "it's great to be different in one's sexual orientation, of being wired-up as such, and over-all make-up." This will always work against efforts to make members of polite society be more accepting, or be more Christian that talks about love, being loved, and loving (to say the least, in a country that prides itself as being one in Asia).

I can see that this place will become a centerpiece attraction in the future to capture the fancies of those who dream of a better Intramuros for everyone. I've ventured this far to share and describe the events and people that I've encountered in my innumerable trips to the Walls. I'll continue filling in pages of my experiences in succeeding books to my memoirs. To provide a contrasting context to my views as described in the earlier chapters of this book, I share here in full the wishful dream I read of Mr. Behn Cervantes’ column from the BusinessWorld Internet Edition in its URL: http://www.bworld.com.ph/current/A&L/artcol3.html
[Image] MANILA, PHILIPPINES Monday,
February 12, 2001
[Take Ten]
Intramuros dream

When I graduated from UP in 1963, I worked
as a local tours coordinator for Your
Travel Guide, a travel agency on Padre
Faura in front of the Filipinas Hotel owned
by an old family friend, Mila de la Rama.
I thoroughly enjoyed the work and the
opportunity to put our best Filipino foot
forward. I conceived of a plan to rebuild
Intramuros, our famed and historic walled
city, into a combined Williamsburg and
Greenwich Village except more colorful and
multi-ethnic, too.

I have always dreamt that the proposal
could come to pass. In 1978, I wrote about
it again, hoping it would catch the eye of
"Imeldific" Marcos, the grandest builder in
Philippine history, who was also then the
powerful governor of Greater Manila. With
her vast reach she could force its
enforcement.

Sometime in 1987, I wrote about it once
more. Now, I am doing the same thing
because I really believe the project is
great and now a real possibility with the
likes of Richard Gordon as the new
Secretary of Tourism.

My dream?

Turn (as much of) Intramuros, the Walled
City, into the city as it was in 1850, or
any given period that is most feasible to
work on. Everything in Intramuros must be
Filipino and/or demonstrate the foreign
influences of that era. Work with the
historians and cultural archeologists to
ensure the needed authenticity.

The designed plan should cater to the
foreign tourists' expectation, but also
become an educational experience for the
domestic tourists who, while learning of
our glorious past, will develop a deep love
for our country and, therefore, acquire
better self-esteem in the process.
As much of the Intramuros streets should be
given back to pedestrians with only
good-looking calesas and carromatas
(horse-drawn carriages) plying the cobbled
streets. As much of the area should be made
cobble stone streets again. Electrical
wires must be buried underground. A street
or two should be dedicated to ancient
street oil lamps which will be functional
at night.

The facade of buildings must follow a
certain architectural plan, although the
interiors and designs of those edifices are
left to the entrepreneurs. Fire trees and
Golden Showers as well as Banaba trees will
be planted around the city for a colorful
summer when these trees bloom.

When they do, the occasion can be a version
of the cherry blossom festivals in Japan
and Washington D.C., thus providing photo
ops for tourists. Signs of stores,
restaurants and other establishments must
give added touches of history as well as
ambience.

Those modern designs now dominating the
area do little for the historic walled
city.

The city will be a microcosm of Manila
during the early 19th century. No big
hotels will be erected. Instead, they
should be Vigan-type houses or 19th-century
edifices that provide maximum ambience and
a feeling of history.

Hotel as well as store and restaurant
employees must dress in period costumes to
provide ambience and color.

Little chapels will be decorated with as
much church antiquity as possible,
eliminating electric fans and other modern
tools that are out of place. Bookstores and
other stores sell only Philippine products.
Demonstrations of weaving and other native
skills are given at definite hours. An
atmospheric and period theater that seats
about 200 people will be dedicated to
performing zarzuelas, comedies and other
Philippine dramatic works.

The theater will answer the needs of
Manila's students as well as tourists'
desire to see something uniquely Filipino.
The different drama organizations dedicated
to the propagation of Philippine theater
can take turns in staging performances.
Philippine Theater authorities give
pertinent lectures on the genre and
literature after the performances thus
answering the academic needs of the
students, as well. A given area can be
allotted for artists' abodes whose
residence in the walled City will provide
it added dynamism and excitement. Thus, the
city will indeed have the Williamsburg in
Virginia flavor as well as the vitality of
Greenwich Village in Manhattan.

A 200-seat movie house erected as a
historic study will be dedicated to
Philippine classics. A room can be
dedicated to lectures and up-dates on
contemporary cinema. Both theaters can have
bookstores pertinent to its arts.
A beautiful outdoor gazebo presents
different high schools whose students
perform bandurias and other local
instruments as well as demonstrations of
balagtasan (elocution) and tula (poems). A
sports arena has regular displays of arnis,
sipa and other Philippine sports. A kakanin
(native cakes) center will sell our
favorite goodies cooked the traditional
manner. The motif will be provincial. Local
coffee and other drinks will be presented
as interestingly as possible for tourists
to discover Philippine cuisine and
delicacies.

The city can have its European section
where different restaurants specializing
in, e.g. French, English and Italian,
Middle Eastern cuisine can answer
cosmopolitan demands. A section can be made
the Parian where Chinese cuisine and stalls
can be found. An Indian section can be a
colorful spot, too. In effect, we allot
spaces to the early influences to
Philippine culture.

There can also be demonstrations of
indigenous handicrafts as well as
mini-museums of how calesas were made,
print shops, needle factories, blacksmiths'
works and the like. These will have the
appropriate educational literature for
tourists' information as well as the
education of the Philippine students that
will be a major component of the visitors
who come to Intramuros to learn of their
past and, therefore appreciate their
heritage much more. In effect, these will
be mini-museums that will be visual and
intellectual experiences.

The river outside the walls and the water
spots in the Intramuros can be given to
Muslim vinta vendors and the like.
Itinerant vendors of "dirty ice cream,"
balut, puto, pan de sal
and other goods will be allowed to ply the
streets for greater color.

The performances are scheduled throughout
the day at different hours to allow
tourists (foreign and domestic) maximum
enjoyment of the day.

At 5 p.m., the sereno starts to light the
street lamps, done with pomp and
circumstance for fine photo ops.

At 6 p.m., the church bells ring to signal
the angelus. After that, groups go from one
inn to another singing kundimans (Filipino
ballads) as serenades to fair damsels in
various windows with the whole tradition of
the serenade performed for photo ops.
After that, a procession can be held to
commemorate the patron saint of the day
thus providing the religious flavor to the
city and its events.

Intramuros can be a complete tourist spot
unto itself. It will have all the
Philippine activities and items tourists
hope to avail of while in the metropolis.
It will be different from the modern look,
feel, and activities of the rest of Manila
that, after all, differ little from what
they have in the more advanced cities in
Europe and the USA.

Instead, the new Intramuros will provide
tourists with a unique experience during
their visit in Manila. More importantly, it
will likewise answer the needs of the local
tourists who will embrace the area as very
much their own because of its historic,
relevant and "fun" components.

Furthermore, the historic facades and
streets will provide the local film
industry with the period sets and locations
they need to make important historic films.
Filming there will provide extra income and
give tourists extra excitement.

© BusinessWorld Publishing Corporation. ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED.
* * * * * * *
Some personalities hound you from time to time. I have had a good share of the kind, some which I get to encounter and recall every time I pursue efforts in meeting the men who cover the Walls at the same time that I am around the area. Yet, there were instances when I got to meet some few individuals from some spots, and we ended up being together somewhere in the Walls.

A fellow from the Antique crossed my path as I was going out of a theatre in Quiapo. Earlier, I was with some other friends, who were then taking the jeepney ride back home as I was at the other side, right in front of the Quiapo Church facade. A hunk of a man, whose face looks like that of a typical winning boxer, came into the scene. I gave him the look, as I could see everything’s big on him. He was talking in Tagalog with a heavy Southern Philippine accent, which made him looked very vulnerable. Some other friends of mine could have been turned off by this trait yet I felt like doing everything to him, there and then. Everything seems to be physical about him. I even got the temerity to ask him if he’s really big all throughout - he confidently answered me that everything in him is big. Then came a fat woman in dusters and rubbers slippers, walking fast towards us out of the distance, who looked like she was angry at my find. He motioned us to move on, as he told me, the woman’s his aunt, who earlier was telling him to immediately go home. In the jeep, he told me, he just came from the province, and that he opted to give the city a chance, in his efforts to land a job. I could just imagine the kind of jobs that he could land. As a callboy, a security guard, a construction worker, or a driver (if he’s got license to drive), a movie bit player as a stunt man, or perhaps, as a market vendor. I just figured he will eventually go home to the province soon, as I noticed the kind of physical assets that he got.

We alighted at the Round Table, and proceeded to walk to Luna Street. He lived among the squatters, somewhere near the San Agustin Church. It’s been past twelve midnight as I noticed on my watch. At the wooden gate entrance, he pulled down his crotch’s zipper, and, immediately, I saw a reddish cock with such a hefty size that I’ve seen so far. I just had a hard time working on it, while I soon realized we could easily get caught by anyone who could be passing by anytime.

We moved on to his house, which he shares with some other relatives, who were then already fast asleep. We entered the room in complete silence, as he signaled me to hush up with my barrage of questions. There were about five small children in the same room upstairs that serves as their sleeping room as well. He just got something, and then led me to downstairs. We proceeded to the bathroom that was stocked with barrels full of water. In all the heat that room emits, we progressed with all the works we both had in mind, as he related to me just how he got to be recently accepted as a dancer trainee in a gay bar somewhere in Recto, prior to our meeting. I could see he was being happy for having recently landed a job, which I was quite unsure to remark back that he easily fits the job to a T. Along with, I could see that the ceiling had many holes, from which sparks of light pass through. I remember having promised to meet him again, the next week, yet I failed to recall that I had to join my company’s summer outing. He’s actually one of the few ones whom I actually want to meet again, if given the same chance.
* * * * * * *

One long evening, I decided I should be trying it out again in the Walls after a long absence, in the period of which I felt like being completely clean again. This particular night was quite like the past nights that were dotted by rejections, refusals and tireless walkthroughs to and fro the whole vicinity.

Earlier I saw a desirable fellow sitting in one of the concrete benches fronting the National Museum, where the Gomburza Monument stands. In combined black tees and denims, he has this boyish looks with short curly hair that instantly caught my attention yet I thought I should still proceed with my efforts to cruise for far more interesting types. He was predictably good-looking and clean as he sat anxiously and staring at me as gave me a cute smile. I just took mental note of him, just in case, I end up the evening feeling lost and out later in the period.
I had then completed the usual tour of the Walls, where I got walk from area near the Manila City Hall, until I came full circle again at the same point where I begun my walk. Usually, I end up frustrated and tired. I felt like taking some snacks at a foodstall near the buses that are waiting for passengers bound for Batangas. There might be good chances for me to make it with someone who might come along anytime time, while I was having my coffee and sandwich, or a piece of hardboiled egg. Then, something in me prodded my feet to proceed, and repeat the whole walk. I could sense, I could very well meet someone along Bonifacio Drive.

Along Burgos Street, the usual darkness has crept in the whole scene. I just don’t know exactly if I’d be scared of the whole idea of cruising in this place. I just felt, I have always known what I wanted. In the dark, I could see three men grouped closely together. A short guy was then being sucked by someone, while the third guy was beating himself while watching the whole scene. I’ve seen the short guy several times before and there were instances before when he tried to approach me in order to make it with him. Also, I’ve seen similar scenes before and I felt disinterest in participating in the whole scene whatsoever. I was simply bored by the whole scene, so I felt like moving on. Yet, I saw on closer look that the guy who was seated and doing the sucking was the boyish-looking guy whom I’ve seen a lot earlier that evening. I felt enraged by the sight of him working on that short guy who looked ridiculously out of place in the Walls. I thought, I was just being very envious since I could have been his partner if I decided on go after him the minute I saw him. I decided to proceed with my pursuit as the whole has turned to be quite enraging to me.

Soon, the short guy who was earlier being sucked was following me. He invited me to freely join them, which idea wasn’t really an interesting one yet I followed him. He thought I might get excited watching him receiving the works. I got introduced to the boyish-looking fellow who then continued sucking the small guy. I could very well see how well hung the short guy has been, yet I noticed that they seem to have known each other for long. I sat down and just watched them. I didn’t want to be joining them, I just want to be merely a spectator in the silently ongoing event in the darkness of the space. I soon saw the small guy coming, as he cupped both his hands on the boyish-looking guy’s head towards him more closely. The boyish-looking guy appeared so businesslike by the whole thing. He was handed a fifty peso bill by the short guy who was then asking me, if I’d like myself to be worked on as well, as he noted to me how good the boyish guy’s service could get. He then added, that they’ve known each other way back before. And that, actually, the boyish-looking guy wanted actually to suck me, which fact I just ignored and motioned to the boyish-looking guy for us to walk away from the scene.

We walked in order to run away from the short guy. The boyish-looking guy seemed to recognize how much I desire him actually, as we continued walking. This boyish-looking guy was a definitely taller than myself, with a wide, well-built chest, a pair of large long legs, and I could see his being quite new in the Walls. He actually looked very desirable and sprightly as we went about holding our hands together. I found this unusual as I get clammy hands almost everytime I do get into the holding hands scene already. I just get so pretty excited that I wanted to get over the whole fiery state. Then I cooled down just as to make myself relax. I figured out that he must have heard about the Walls from some other people through the word of mouth. We sat on a bench by a lighted portion of the Walls, I could see the National Museum at a distance. We just continued talking and soon, we have covered the usual exchange of basic data about our respective selves. I grew somewhat weary. I soon learned that he wanted to find for someplace to sleep in for the night, a reason which I believed was truthful that night, yet in the past, I simply ignored from some other guys whom I got to meet in the place, who were telling me a similar defense of their innocence (of showing the effect that they just happened to be there without any plausible reason whatsoever). He also explained that he to meet the short guy in a theater in Recto, where he complained about the short guy’s stinginess in doling out more money on those who got the guts to work on him. This boyish-looking guy was indirectly explaining to me that he needed the dough, just as to keep on going with his studies and other expenses. I could see through the whole façade, yet I could sense that he was just being convenient with his reasons. I just figured out that he’d like to be enjoying himself while earning somehow in the process, a typical behavior among some men who thought they could get away with such a dubious approach on events taking place in this side of the Walls. He was hustling his way through his life, and I wonder how far can he get. I pity him in making a fool out of himself in situations like this. In principle, I believe I wanted to engage in these activities because I want them. Period. No other excuses, unless perhaps if it’s my profession. I just wanted to kiss him nevertheless, yet I felt like a prospective customer to him. He showed me his openness for us to get into the act, yet something lighted in my mind. I didn’t long to get involved in an opportunistic commercial transaction for the night. I stood up and decided to give him a 20-peso bill, at least to provide for his cigarettes for the night.
* * * * * * *

I reckon I must have repeatedly come full circle on certain stages of my cruising life in the Walls. Once, I just came out from a theatre when I decided I’d like to take a cruise for the night. Crossing the McArthur Bridge, I stationed myself along the steps of the Main Post Office. Soon, I got tired of waiting for someone to come along, I grew impatient from psyching myself, that tonight’s going to be one of those earlier nights, at least in the quality of those whom I’d encounter in the Walls. I stood up, and walked down, to fix myself for while along the street at the level where the jeepneys get to pass by, and tried to act as if I was waiting for my ride home. It’s turning 11 PM in a few minutes, as the Manila City Hall clock tower showed. I saw someone approaching. I didn’t recognize him at once. Coming more closely to where I was standing, I saw a very familiar figure. He was one of those who interviewed me, probed into the other usual details of my life, who’s working in one of those companies that have seriously considered me for a job, yet refused in the end. He never smiled. I guess, we soon were wearing poker faces towards each other at that instant. I didn’t really need to explain. Actually, I saw him much, much earlier inside the theatre where I knew, some similar activities are engaged. He actually saw me as well, and we actually talked for a while. This time, we decided, perhaps, that there’s no point in continuing our talk. There’s no point in explaining. Suffice it to say that we’ve seen each other in the Walls.
* * * * * * *

After I quit from almost making it with a another fellow one early late, hot Saturday afternoon, I sought out to walk idly on top of the Walls fronting the Bonifacio Drive and Burgos St. Earlier that morning, I was among those hopeful individuals who went showed up early in the morning in the Walls. I had a fleeting encounter inside one of the corner brick-made posts of the Walls, where I gave a blow job to a tall law student, who was then panting in his athletic gear that time. He was just visiting for a chance encounter as he went on his regular jog every weekend morning. He knew about these things that have been taking place in the Walls, and simply shows up when the urgent need calls for it. The chance encounter lasted for a few minutes that were brought forth after he naughtily glanced at me while I was actively cruising for a fix.

Later, I spent some few hours lying on one shaded portion of the Walls, while I pondered on the events that have just taken place in my life, in general. I simply couldn’t help but to engage in pondering about events that have been taking place in my life. Such a variety of questions came forward that afternoon, yet todate, most of them remain unanswered. Before long, I was even able to enjoy a short nap, as I continued pondering on the kind of solitude that has enveloped me while I kept on being alone in this private section that I have all by myself. I should have brought a book, to while away the time here. But this accouterment would have simply lost its purpose in a cruising adventure this weekend. I would be deemed too intelligent looking in a place as sexual as this one.

I woke up from my dreamy state as I soon realized that it was turning late in the afternoon after I have observed the sun has slowly but surely set along the horizon. I have noticed that layer of dust that has accumulated on my skin while I lied serenely a few hours earlier. I thought I should get some food but I felt no hunger at all. I was hungry for something else. Soon I met someone who has that certain animal look, yet when we were almost engaged into it with all our clothes still on, a guard popped out from out of nowhere. I then lost all interest, even if I had a cool conversation earlier with that fellow. He actually belonged to a family who had recently encountered a tragic event, a massacre, that was given full blown reportage in the papers lately. There were other interesting facts about his life that we talked about, particularly that of his elder sister’s lover, a prominent Policeman, whose name I get to read or hear from the news. I continued my idle walk. I had a few other memorable events that I want to rehash every now and then. There was the particular encounter one lunch time with a worker from the Bulletin Publishing firm.

I particularly remember having been stared at enviously by the other cruisers in the Walls after they saw me walking intently with that fellow. He looked thin, and was just wearing the usual gear in the Walls, plain shirt and denims. His family is based in Pangasinan, where he used to be a mere farmer with three small children. Looking neat and tidy, he was rather so casual about everything sexual that’s taking place very near his workplace. I was soon engorging the whole of him, in a few minutes, in a secluded open space on the upper landing of the Walls. I recall how bright the whole blinding and roundly shape of the sun that was gleaming above us. I knew and understood then why those other cruisers were at awe towards me. He was really that big underneath. I simply couldn’t take him all in. Thinking that there would be limited chances to meet someone who’s as big as this one, I worked all the way in the best manner that I could. I couldn’t help but be pornographic about it - as his size amazed me. They say size doesn’t matter, but at that particular time, I knew I felt otherwise. While his naked body gyrated continuously in full ecstatic passionate speed, he was shoving harder everything deep into my throat, as I was amazed the whole length was soon inside for quite awhile in my salivating mouth.

Just then, a small child appeared swiftly, as if being chased upon by a playmate, from the solid concrete stairs around the corner that leads to where we were busy with our stint. The child was clearly stunned as he saw me flat perched while the fellow was shoving himself aggressively towards me with his pants down to his knees and his white buns gleaming towards the child.

I met him again, yet nothing happened next time. I knew I made a promise to him yet I failed to deliver my promise. I have always remembered having this fantasy of making it with him again in a wide open rice field in his Pangasinan farm, the whole expanse of which he once lovingly related to me the first time we met. We even had the time to plan somewhere that we would visit his wife and children in Pangasinan, and we could pretend that we were just friends. There are indeed guys like him, amidst all these fellows whom we encounter every now and then. Though, I never thought well of the role of a charitable lover to the type. I clearly saw myself in a role like that essayed by Ricky Davao in that well crafted Carlos Siguion Reyna’s film, Ang Lalaki sa Buhay ni Selya, only that time, I felt rather awkward and funny, and thought I would not bother to be a crafty lover of a very much married well hung male.
* * * * * * *

Recently, I met a small young fellow, the type of whom you get to see in those cigarette vendors you usually meet as they approach jeepneys and private cars particularly in traffic hours. He was just having fun by being around the area along Bonifacio Drive one dark night I was around the vicinity. He told me that he recently experienced being held up in the Quiapo underpass by three burly fellows. His whole yearend bonus was gone in a few seconds. He described that he had to ran away from them as fast as he could as he took a taxi going towards Baclaran where he thought he won’t be seeing any of those holduppers. I advised him that he should have gone instead to the Police Station to report the crime. This will help him get all the necessary documents that will enable him to get back faster the other documents that he lost to the holduppers. All this time, I took a close look at him and realized that he is actually the type of fellow whom holduppers actually look for, as he is rather small in built yet he’s attired to the hilt, and has this proud gait. I soon got to know that he left Bicol and then started working in a factory located in one of those one of those export processing zones in Cavite, where his uncle is also working. He loudly complained about his companions in the house who must have been envious of him, as he once went home to discover that his other personal things, i.e. TV, VHS, clothes, have been stolen.

Two weeks earlier, I got to meet someone riding a bike as he followed me while walking towards the Manila Hotel. I soon got to know that he was one of those who work in the port area as I noticed that he was wearing the prescribed shirt. As we were finished with each other, I got to know that he had a policeman for a lover. He complained about this lover who was then in their house that night. The policeman lover has been a shabu user for some time already, and he has always insisted that both of them engage in a shabu session which usually ends up in endless sexual sessions that last for two nights in a row. He didn’t relish this idea that night as he opted actually to cruise for some prospective fellow (who was actually me, perhaps, if he didn’t happen to make it with another fellow earlier that night).

These two fellows ended up making it up with me almost in the same room in a motel nearby the Luneta. Strangely, I remember certain details now. Whereas with the first one, I got fucked quite well, I got to fuck quite as well with the second one. Nevertheless, I looked forward to meeting just one of them again, and I wish, he will go out of his way to call me, as I remember having given him our house number.

These two actually were built almost the same way as they stood at the same height. We were passionate as we were into these sexually engaging activities. Meanwhile, I kept on getting images that eventually, I will have to confront myself on the consequences of these encounters. There are actually nights like this which happen every now and then.
* * * * * * *

From a forwarded email:
Subject: Fwd: [Fwd: Natural Highs]
Date: Mon, 02 Oct 2000 03:52:00 GMT
“……….This is one of the best emails that I have received in a long
time.
Take a few minutes and read these. Think about them one at a time
>> > > > >BEFORE going on to the next one.........IT DOES MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD
>> > > > >especially the thought at the end…………..” (a note from the source).
Falling in love.
Laughing so hard your face hurts.
>> > > > > A hot shower.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > No lines at the Super Wal-Mart.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > A special glance.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Getting mail. (or) Email
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Taking a drive on a pretty road.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Hot towels out of the dryer.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Finding the sweater you want is on sale for half
>>price.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Chocolate milkshake. (or vanilla!)
>> > > > >
>> > > > > A long distance phone call.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > A bubble bath.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Giggling.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > A good conversation.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > The beach.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Finding a $20 bill in your coat from last winter.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Laughing at yourself.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Midnight phone calls that last for hours.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Running through sprinklers.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Laughing at an inside joke.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Friends.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice
>>about
>> > >you.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours
>>left to
>> > > > >sleep.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Your first kiss.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Making new friends or spending time with old ones.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Playing with a new puppy.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Having someone play with your hair.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Sweet dreams.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Hot chocolate.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Road trips with friends.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Swinging on swings.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Wrapping presents under the Christmas tree while
>>eating
>> > > > cookies
>> > > >
>> > > > > and drinking eggnog.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Song lyrics printed inside your new CD so you can
>>sing along
>> > > > > without feeling stupid.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Going to a really good concert.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Making eye contact with a cute stranger.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Winning a really competitive game.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Making chocolate chip cookies.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Having your friends send you homemade cookies.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Spending time with close friends.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Seeing smiles and hearing laughter from your friends.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Holding hands with someone you care about.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Running into an old friend and realizing that some
>>things
>> > > > > (good or bad) never change.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Riding the best roller coasters over and over.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Watching the expression on someone's face as they
open a much desired present from you.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > Getting out of bed every morning and thanking God for
>> > > > another beautiful day.
>> > > > >
>> > > > >I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet
>> > > > >when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.

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.

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