My first book is now available in hardcover, paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
Having been away from the Philippines for over 6 years now, I don't know if this particular movie theater still exists somewhere in Manila as of this writing. It's standing right in front of this well known old restaurant called 'Ambos Mundos' in Sta Cruz, Manila, which I believe is along an old street called Oroquieta that runs parallel to Rizal Avenue where the LRT passes by before it crosses over the Pasig Rvier. Based on the details I would notice inside, the movie theater must have been one of the best looking theatres on its heydays but it has been in its rundown state by the time I discovered it in one of my innumerable sojourns in Manila and had since then started watching so many Tagalog movies inside, which were billed as double so you get to watch 2 movies at a price of one. Not a bad deal for someone with so little spare money for entertainment, and the deal becomes better as you get the chance to cruise around and play with fellows who may get attracted to you or those you would find interesting and attractive. Couples would make it while seated, or even in the bathroom. In the darkness inside the theater that was just lighted by the shadows cast off by the huge and already dust-covered screen, I saw all imaginable positions being performed by those who willingly played before my eyes; I remember seeing straight couples as well every now and then. And I also knew some families, most probably those of the workers in the theatre, live in one or two of the small rooms built-in into the theater.
This is not the same theater many of us regular patrons would call 'Perlas' or the Tagalog translation of the word 'pearl,' which was grittier and easier to find as the building stands on the main road, Rizal Avenue. This is another of those run down theatres where I would see more flagrant and more shocking activities done among men who would get together to enjoy and have fun in each other's lovingly extended arms and playful hands.
Why I remember this theater, despite its physical ugliness, is mainly because of the many encounters I had here with different men who would seek out the company of other men to relieve whatever ails them sexually or probably emotionally. And one time, I met someone here who would become a lover for some time, and whom I would meet many years after in a different run-down movie theater in another part of Sta Cruz, Manila, but had since then been looking disheveled, older, and with one or two of his front teeth gone and not yet replaced. He would still recognize me but I would barely recognize him, which was unusual of me as I would always remember those who have been involved with me, one way or another. I heard his voice as he approached me while I was seated on the bench with faux leather in the dirty lobby of the balcony of that other theater.
We met in the first theater where I remember seeing him in his tucked-in shirt in denim pants and looking neat, cute and sexy. He's small in stature but you'd notice right away his bright, almond shaped eyes with long lashes and lips covered with light mustache. I never realized how hairy he was until we were together in a room that we hired for our first intimate encounter. We didn't stay much longer in the theater as soon as we met each other as the place was scalding hot and a lot of people were milling around us, probably hoping they could play with us, too.
I was soon penetrating him, which I continued as I stood over the bed and walked around the room, with him in his position where his legs were wrapped around my buttocks. I continued thrusting. And we continued kissing so longingly and warmly. Those were memorable kisses.
Afterwhich event, we hastily moved out of that rented space, which was around 3 blocks away from the theater. It's another very cheap looking motel, which the owners make money from, largely by renting the dirty looking rooms to people like us who need to keep what is left of our privacy while we're engaged in intimate acts we normally can't show to others. We would walk to Quezon Boulevard in Quiapo, the neighborhood next to Sta Cruz, where we took a jeep going to the Welcome Rotunda that stands along the border of Quezon City and Manila. I encouraged him to have a very tasty meat-based meal in a favorite foodstand where jeepney and taxi drivers would quickly have their meals. I totally enjoyed it, myself, as I had in the many previous times I was there.
The next time we were talking on the phone, he said he had a bad stomach from having that meal; I promised not to bring him there anymore. A few days after, he had to go back to the Middle East where he was then working. He would tell me of the many times that he almost got raped by Middle Eastern men who thought Filipino men are actually women in men's clothes. He came back again after a few months and we would meet and get to know each other better and become closer to each other's hearts. Soon, we became lovers and we would send each other snail mail for at least two or three years.
And he would proceed to marry a woman with whom during his honeymoon period, he would be calling me on the phone long distance. I wanted him to enjoy his honeymoon. And I couldn't believe it that he'd call me while being with his new bride. Another friend would tease me when I told him about it---it meant I was the one in mind of this fellow all along even if he was already married. I didn't really understand nor appreciate the meaning, for whatever reason it was that motivated him to call me while he's on his honeymoon.
His family, particularly his ageing mother, was happy to see him getting married. I know I heard from him one time that his mom knew about his previous long term relationship with someone who was a college teacher in one of the public universities along Taft Avenue, near the City Hall. But for some reason, they parted ways after some time. I would become his next long term lover, and we shared memories, mostly of the sexual variety to my recollection. I also knew that he contacted my Mom while they were both working in Saudi Arabia; my Mom was curious who he was in my life. I won't be able to explain myself to her, I would recall. How do you explain to your Mom that the one who called her from nowhere in a strange, middle eastern country, was actually her son's current lover (and who could have been her son-in-law if marriages among those of the same sex had been legal in the Philippines).
But he's a warm, loving in his own ways, thoughtful, sweet person who taught himself to love someone like me who's adventurous, bullheaded, arrogant, and temperamental. I was still in the process of discovering myself along these encounters. Those intimate encounters we had were tempestuous yet we complemented each other's bodies; he's among those few I met who I deeply really cared about and actually enjoyed having me inside of him. Being abroad and most probably lonely most times, he's the one who would often write me handwritten letters with his latest photos attached, some of which had been very revealing. I would imagine him making it up with a lot of lusty-looking Middle Eastern men, but I didn't have the gall to ask and confront him about the truth being previewed in my youthful and jealousy-wrought imagination. I just didn't know how to cope with the long distance relationship then in place between us, and we were then both young, goodlooking and proud, which probably gave us so many other opportunities to date and hang-out with other people in and out our respective networks.
Somehow, his marriage floundered. His wife would be the one to stay and work in the Middle East. He would soon be tasked to take care of their son, so he stayed in the Philippines. Domestic issues in their marriage crept in. I saw the toll on his face. But he then had a new lover and they even brought me to the place where they live. It's in the middle of a squatters community somewhere in Manila. A lot of the houses are in concrete, and they show the growing affluence of their owners who have relatives abroad who would send money back to the Philippines and gradually improve their respective economic standing in the local neighborhood. They've got very similar narratives with other families I know personally. But in contrast, my friend and his lover live in a very humble, pock-marked house where they would work together to build a cooked food retailing business, sold on cash basis. Somehow, the earnings had been sustaining them, it seemed to me as I continued observing their situation as we got drunk and shared merriment among ourselves.
Nowadays, I would see him on Facebook often. His memory has been etched in my mind now, most particularly the time when he showed up in the funeral of my late father, whom he knew personally. I was then already involved seriously with another partner. I think I managed to introduce them together. I just don't know what my partner then was thinking after the introduction I made. I guess, I could not guess that correctly anymore.
Showing posts with label sex in the theatre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex in the theatre. Show all posts
I'm Wondering If Cruising Still Takes Place in those Baguio City Cinemas
My first book is now available, in hardcover, paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
Years ago, I made a trip to Baguio City from where I used to live in Quezon City. Alone, I found myself checking out and researching on the cruising scene inside Baguio City's moviehouses. I started my cruise in a theatre on Session Road, where I went one time in a previous trip on my birthday to watch and weep over 'Good Will Hunting.' Finding nothing was happening there, I decided to check out and move to some other place. Actually, these movie houses are really cheap places offering 2 movies at the ticket price of one and where you can while your time away before going to your real, official destination in this city known as the 'Summer Capital of the Philippines.' Inside the theater, I noticed people would actually watch the movies being shown on screen. I was actively cruising inside one of those theaters whose name eludes me now; I heard about it from another good friend who already passed away at least 2 years ago as of this writing.
This movie theatre wasn't along Burnham Park, and if my memory serves me right, it's located somewhere near the Baguio Public Market. Getting a ticket for a seat in the balcony section, I would notice that the seats were all made of wood. The floor was also wooden and I realized that the whole place is made up of wood, except for its roof. I would soon find myself inside one of the bathroom stalls in the male bathroom (called 'CR,' as in 'comfort room' in Philippine local parlance). I would notice other guys staying longer than necessary in the urinals where they happened to be waiting for something more to happen. I positioned myself and would soon be exchanging meaningful glances with a light skinned, chink-y eyed youthful looking fellow with rosy cheeks. His medium built has made me think that he could be descended from among the local tribes. And he behaved like he knew what he wanted. After paying attention to each other, we would soon move inside one of the stalls and were talking to each other.
We agreed to move out of the smelly bathroom as soon as he agreed to join me in my rented room in a pre-war hotel, reputably haunted by ghosts as claimed by its customers, and built along the highway that I believe leads to the SM Baguio Shopping Mall. In my room, we were soon kissing, hugging, exploring each other's bodies. My good friend, who also told me about that theater where I met my companion right that moment, reminded me also of how he dislikes guys from the Mountain Provinces. Now, I would understand why. This guy's legs were speckled with scars from then healed small wounds; I suspect it's from certain unhygienic practices. They look clean from the outside as they're noticeably light-skinned (at least those whom I've dealt with). But I just kept my eyes closed and used my imagination more extensively to enjoy his company.
We would both come and would learn more about each other. As this experience happened so many years ago, I barely remember anything about the fellow, except that I was certain he was goodlooking and with a nice, bright smile. I was elated to have made it with him but I was troubled by the scars he had on his legs, which I didn't really have the heart to mention to him. Of course, he knew about them. I made sure I got into the shower as soon as we were done. I allowed the heat of the water to wash away whatever dirt I felt I got from him.
And I would remember we had a nice dinner together in one of those restaurants along Session Road. What happened between him and myself was not considered a commercial transaction, of which I was grateful. I won't still be able to remember more about him. I would say I enjoyed his company, and I think we exchanged contact numbers. I would never know if we actually contacted each other again. But I've grown more aware of the sexuality of men who are from Baguio City and the nearby communities.
I know from experience that men from the region are generally aware and open to the concept of men having sex with other men. They're among the sexiest fellows I've seen, especially when they're outfitted in their traditional garb that covers only their groin but has their butt cheeks exposed. I don't really care about their moral opinions about these behaviors. I would recall a news report about a man who filed a case against another man who sodomized him while both of them were drunk; I would never know whatever happened to that case. And I'm just aware, much more than I would even dare to share here, that men up there engage in intimate acts with other men. It's not only those who are considered natives; I recall having made it in a bathroom stall in a famous restaurant in Baguio City with a scion of a well-to-do family who have large swaths of real estate properties in the city. The last time I heard about him was that he got married and moved to Canada. But I would soon learn he's been divorced and has since been living in with a man.
Years ago, I made a trip to Baguio City from where I used to live in Quezon City. Alone, I found myself checking out and researching on the cruising scene inside Baguio City's moviehouses. I started my cruise in a theatre on Session Road, where I went one time in a previous trip on my birthday to watch and weep over 'Good Will Hunting.' Finding nothing was happening there, I decided to check out and move to some other place. Actually, these movie houses are really cheap places offering 2 movies at the ticket price of one and where you can while your time away before going to your real, official destination in this city known as the 'Summer Capital of the Philippines.' Inside the theater, I noticed people would actually watch the movies being shown on screen. I was actively cruising inside one of those theaters whose name eludes me now; I heard about it from another good friend who already passed away at least 2 years ago as of this writing.
This movie theatre wasn't along Burnham Park, and if my memory serves me right, it's located somewhere near the Baguio Public Market. Getting a ticket for a seat in the balcony section, I would notice that the seats were all made of wood. The floor was also wooden and I realized that the whole place is made up of wood, except for its roof. I would soon find myself inside one of the bathroom stalls in the male bathroom (called 'CR,' as in 'comfort room' in Philippine local parlance). I would notice other guys staying longer than necessary in the urinals where they happened to be waiting for something more to happen. I positioned myself and would soon be exchanging meaningful glances with a light skinned, chink-y eyed youthful looking fellow with rosy cheeks. His medium built has made me think that he could be descended from among the local tribes. And he behaved like he knew what he wanted. After paying attention to each other, we would soon move inside one of the stalls and were talking to each other.
We agreed to move out of the smelly bathroom as soon as he agreed to join me in my rented room in a pre-war hotel, reputably haunted by ghosts as claimed by its customers, and built along the highway that I believe leads to the SM Baguio Shopping Mall. In my room, we were soon kissing, hugging, exploring each other's bodies. My good friend, who also told me about that theater where I met my companion right that moment, reminded me also of how he dislikes guys from the Mountain Provinces. Now, I would understand why. This guy's legs were speckled with scars from then healed small wounds; I suspect it's from certain unhygienic practices. They look clean from the outside as they're noticeably light-skinned (at least those whom I've dealt with). But I just kept my eyes closed and used my imagination more extensively to enjoy his company.
We would both come and would learn more about each other. As this experience happened so many years ago, I barely remember anything about the fellow, except that I was certain he was goodlooking and with a nice, bright smile. I was elated to have made it with him but I was troubled by the scars he had on his legs, which I didn't really have the heart to mention to him. Of course, he knew about them. I made sure I got into the shower as soon as we were done. I allowed the heat of the water to wash away whatever dirt I felt I got from him.
And I would remember we had a nice dinner together in one of those restaurants along Session Road. What happened between him and myself was not considered a commercial transaction, of which I was grateful. I won't still be able to remember more about him. I would say I enjoyed his company, and I think we exchanged contact numbers. I would never know if we actually contacted each other again. But I've grown more aware of the sexuality of men who are from Baguio City and the nearby communities.
I know from experience that men from the region are generally aware and open to the concept of men having sex with other men. They're among the sexiest fellows I've seen, especially when they're outfitted in their traditional garb that covers only their groin but has their butt cheeks exposed. I don't really care about their moral opinions about these behaviors. I would recall a news report about a man who filed a case against another man who sodomized him while both of them were drunk; I would never know whatever happened to that case. And I'm just aware, much more than I would even dare to share here, that men up there engage in intimate acts with other men. It's not only those who are considered natives; I recall having made it in a bathroom stall in a famous restaurant in Baguio City with a scion of a well-to-do family who have large swaths of real estate properties in the city. The last time I heard about him was that he got married and moved to Canada. But I would soon learn he's been divorced and has since been living in with a man.
3. The Beginning Encounters
The book is now available, in hardcover, paperback & ebook formats from my online store, Amazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
I fail to recall whoever might have been the first person I casually had sex with at the Walls. Whoever he was, he certainly might have relieved himself, illicitly, with much hurried yet strange sense of physical pleasure. The same experience happened with me.
Index:
A guy in fresh denims
A former college athletic (soccer) scholar
An uptight and not-so-truthful fellow
A guy in fresh denims
A former college athletic (soccer) scholar
An uptight and not-so-truthful fellow
“…there are places we all come from – deep-rooty-common places – that make us who we are. And we disdain them or treat them lightly at our peril. We turn our bakcs on them at the risk of self-contempt. There is a sense in which we need to go home again – and can go home again. Not to recover home, no. But to sanctify memory.”
Robert Fulghum
Robert Fulghum
I fail to recall whoever might have been the first person I casually had sex with at the Walls. Whoever he was, he certainly might have relieved himself, illicitly, with much hurried yet strange sense of physical pleasure. The same experience happened with me.
I remember someone wearing brand new denims I met just outside the Walls facing Lyceum near the underpass, very near the Revellin del Parian. It was past 11 PM and there were many others cruising. Also, there were many who were just passing by, I guess. I felt the urge to really be able to make it soon, as I needed to be home soon. This one just jutted out of nowhere while I was studying the numerous vehicles passing by where I positioned myself. The streetlights beyond somehow supported to cast an eerie combination of dirt, bodily longing, and darkness. Streetlights were off then that night, particularly in that circle where I placed myself.
The Walls stood at the distance. I happened to pass by this friendly stranger. I saw an athletic man with a fresh short haircut wearing a clean white round neck shirt. Looking more like a college student than myself who was then in college, I realize I was meeting someone very relishing that night. The urge surged itself - rushing like very strong waterfalls - beyond proportions in my mind. Knowingly, I acknowledged my attraction to this man who sent the proper signals.
“Dito tayo, gawin mo sa akin, gagawin ko rin sa ‘yo! (We're safe here...do it to me,.....and i'll do it you after you're done with me!)” as he approached me after we studied each other in barely three minutes.
I understood soon that we had to do it beside the dark portion of the underpass, near the bushes where curious passersby could easily see us. Cars continue passing by from Divisoria and Binondo. The man looked like he has just bought a fresh pair of denims, which fitted his size proportionately well. The smell of fresh, new denims just couldn’t get over me – such that I recall the night as well as the person todate with the same urgent desire to relieve myself. I zippered down his pants and proceeded to partake of the flesh before me, which looked meaty enough. His warm body just couldn’t cope with my hands as I submitted myself to his yearnings. Suddenly, the smell of the whole place brought forth memories of those whom I have met earlier. Tensely, I worked on whatever I could handle until he was over. I remember I was glad he did reciprocate my act. He did particularly well as I guided him to what really excited me then. Soon, we were both finished in 12 minutes. I never had the chance to ask anything of his identity. I just recall the freshness of it all, which todate I particularly remember. I have never met him again.
I knew I wanted more yet I couldn’t recall if I still went on cruising that night. Yet evenings like these became common for the past years. Such past evenings – the mixed pungent, salty and musky smell of which repeated even after our family has overcome the collective weariness of the thought of Mother’s near-total disability in Jordan – continue to unfold everytime I decide I have to get over myself. Mother and I have recently been able to talk on the near traumatic family event. I was just prayerful with many thanks most times. She has yet to be informed on the indirect result that her near death abroad has brought to me.
These days, there are nights when I have felt I needed divine intervention just as to be able to make it through the night. Nights when my longings just get as confused as my imaginings. Stoically, I have braved it out there in the Walls, or at times, just about anywhere. Nevertheless, I have realized that in the Walls, as in the other cruising grounds, there, indeed, are really many numbers of men who have been also in search just like me. We collectively search continuously for relatively freer grounds to just be ourselves, without the cloth of deception, practically to anyone. We search for the need to be accepted in our own terms, without the dangers and annoyances of disbelief, disgust, and bigotry, both on the surface and underneath the various levels in our society.
In retrospect, I have never been able to completely identify what I really wanted in the first place. Nor even come up with a fragment of the definitive meaning on what I have been doing. Nevertheless, I have partaken much, for which I have been thankful of what has been presented to me in return. I just want to tell my “stories” in their integral chapters that may at times will have no endings, just those others out there whose stories beg to be narrated (so to say), and be affirmed as good, honest persons with integrity in the process. Though, of course, this wanting “to tell stories” will have consequences forthcoming as well in the process.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Another among my earliest encounters has been this one with a former college athletic (soccer) scholar of Adamson University. Given my efforts in recollecting details about this guy, I guess, he must have asked me to do things on him, which I thought to be rather puking then.
I remember this guy, who must have been in his early thirties’ then, have been working in the warehouse section of a multinational pharmaceutical firm in Makati. He thought of cruising near along Manila Hotel one of those earliest evenings that I decided to cruise in the Walls. Very much naïve then, I realized I must have shown him signals that he thought could be very well be the hallmarks of someone in cruising. He was married with a child, and his wife then was visiting her parents in the province. He must have had felt the urge so much so that instead of proceeding to go to their house in Pasay City, he thought of cruising it actively out in the Walls.
He must have been one of the first of batches of men whom I have agreed to spend a night with in a motel somewhere in Sta Cruz. He got pretty disappointed, actually, when we were already in bed. I never wanted, then, to work on him orally. He kept on pleading on me to work on him practically the whole night.
I remember this guy, who must have been in his early thirties’ then, have been working in the warehouse section of a multinational pharmaceutical firm in Makati. He thought of cruising near along Manila Hotel one of those earliest evenings that I decided to cruise in the Walls. Very much naïve then, I realized I must have shown him signals that he thought could be very well be the hallmarks of someone in cruising. He was married with a child, and his wife then was visiting her parents in the province. He must have had felt the urge so much so that instead of proceeding to go to their house in Pasay City, he thought of cruising it actively out in the Walls.
He must have been one of the first of batches of men whom I have agreed to spend a night with in a motel somewhere in Sta Cruz. He got pretty disappointed, actually, when we were already in bed. I never wanted, then, to work on him orally. He kept on pleading on me to work on him practically the whole night.
“Yun dati kong roommate, minsan pinakelaman nya ako. Mula sa kama nya, ginapang nya ako, eh, marami kami sa kwarto noon. Natuwa yata sa nangyari sa amin. Nasarapan naman ako. Naulit pa iyon, hanggang sa naging madalas. Natapos lang nung grumaduate na kami (I had a former roommate who once fondled me one night. From his bed, he crawled slowly to get into mine, which was very daring of him, as there were others who were soundly sleeping that night in that same room. He must have extremely enjoyed himself that first night. I actually relish the experience myself, just like very good food. We did it again, until it became routine. We just parted ways when we graduated from college)” as he related one of his more significant physical and erotic encounters with men.
Back then, I was pretty much disgusted by engaging in such acts, although he was very much pretty well hung with a muscular body to boot, given that he’s only in his mid early 30s then. Just like the rest of us, I have had my share of sexual hang-ups, and quite unsure of what I like to engage and share in bed. I remember the two of us in that motel room just having our naked bodies pressed tightly together while in bed – the whole night. I remember him walking in the room naked, to show me his disappointment, while the lights were on, I saw how well built his body has been.
“Kung yung iba ang nandito ngayon, kanina pa ako nakaraos (If there was someone else with me here in this bed, I would have come by now)” I recall him remarking at me.
I remember having taken much rein in my urges then to simply do to him those activities from which I have gained much confidence to engage much, much graphically, sexually later on. I guess, we need to be guided step by step just as to fully enable ourselves to confidently engage in these sexual acts. These sets of behavior apparently do not come automatic especially when needed.
* * * * * * *
I remember having taken much rein in my urges then to simply do to him those activities from which I have gained much confidence to engage much, much graphically, sexually later on. I guess, we need to be guided step by step just as to fully enable ourselves to confidently engage in these sexual acts. These sets of behavior apparently do not come automatic especially when needed.
* * * * * * *
I met one certain fellow who could have easily turned out to be personification of dishonesty to one’s self. He was pretty confusing as soon as we got to agree that we were doing it that night.
Or I must have been very hard on him, as I try to comprehend his inconsistent behavior towards me. Although on second thought, admittedly, each one of us, in the whole place, has our individual bag of dishonesties, in trying to prevent others to see us in our bare, vulnerable selves, warts and all.
I made it with this man that night, thinking that I could have made it out with someone worthy, at the least, and gratifying at the most. A professional auditor, who works with Commission on Audit, he was rather edgy that night yet I could see through his eagerness, as he went out of his way to approach me at my seat at one of those concrete benches in the Walls.
Yet at the same time, he was rather uptight, like he couldn’t show his real self correctly to me. I just took everything as a learning process. He was rather tender and soft, and was rather uninhibited about kissing, hugging and all the works, which I found rather pretty exciting. I particularly recall exchanging such heated kisses with him, as I wondered how I got to land here as I tried to be as expressive as I could. I longed to have both of our bodied be tightly connected, at least physically for a few hours. Yet right after coming, I saw his face looking like in total disbelief and sorrow over what he had recently done, of the utter sinfulness of the whole act. His eyes showed the cowed displeasure he had after we come. Looking back, I realized I could see guilt-personified on his bright face. I remember his cute face, plus a nice naked, well-maintained body, as he shook me out the bed. I wondered why we weren’t joyously celebrating at all the blessing that we may have admitted, which normally we have, at least, after each coming. I couldn’t believe him as he showed me that face, with changing “characters” in a matter of second.
He made some sarcastic remarks, as were rushing to put on our clothes, like everything about our bodies are totally filthy beyond repair. I felt instantly like moving out as fast as I could, even like running the fastest run I could give away from the nightmare inside that cheap motel room. I thought I would be seeing no more of him, as I thought he was having grave difficulties accepting the other aspects of himself.
Yet, I saw this same guy again somewhere in a second run theatre, somewhere in Meycauayan, Bulacan. I saw him again in the deep recesses of another cheap theatre in Cubao. Both theatres are known todate to be cruising grounds for people like us, and those prostitutes hounding all of us, if given the chance. He still looks stoically cold, yet physically interesting person that challenges other cruisers. I supposed he must have been married by this time (I remember he told me his plans of getting married).
Soon, I’ve grown to realize I should be developing the expertise in recognizing the type. This type should be refused, at all costs, as he makes you go down the lower depths of possessing the ill traits a poorly developed self-confidence level. Negative vibes hound you after you have realized you have met the “type.”
Actually, every now and then, I particularly remember having met another similar fellow, of the similar variety, although belonging to the same species, who seems to merely finds enjoyments in the details of seducing guys who would get to think of him as someone with such a superb body, as he actually is physically……….yet there is the persistent disdain in his face, as one goes about working in him. The type simply makes me shake my head in disbelief.
Actually, every now and then, I particularly remember having met another similar fellow, of the similar variety, although belonging to the same species, who seems to merely finds enjoyments in the details of seducing guys who would get to think of him as someone with such a superb body, as he actually is physically……….yet there is the persistent disdain in his face, as one goes about working in him. The type simply makes me shake my head in disbelief.
7. On the Confines of the Past and Present
The book is now available, in hardcover, paperback & ebook formats from my online store, Amazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
"Curt Urbanozo pictures"
Index:
An American with a PhD
Bastion de San Andres
A bunch of four
A Roving Salesman
An Architecture graduate who works as a druggist
A guy from Cebu
He makes Senator Enrile laugh
A male hairdresser
Until now, I still summon the memory of a certain outsider in the midst of strangers. Someone who was from the USA got somehow involved with me after we met in this section where provincial buses used to pull over almost all days then. Lanky and somewhat noticeable as he was a foreigner, he began our conversation right away after we recognized each other’s presence. Somehow uncertain with myself whether to proceed with the conversation, I felt the attraction was mainly due to a certain kind of outstanding difference that I was always yearning for from those I get to encounter in the area. I’ve read somewhere these people just get to hang you down for fun purposes. Still, I attempted to overcome the stereotype, an idea, which I didn’t, really understand completely before.
"Curt Urbanozo pictures"
Index:
An American with a PhD
Bastion de San Andres
A bunch of four
A Roving Salesman
An Architecture graduate who works as a druggist
A guy from Cebu
He makes Senator Enrile laugh
A male hairdresser
Until now, I still summon the memory of a certain outsider in the midst of strangers. Someone who was from the USA got somehow involved with me after we met in this section where provincial buses used to pull over almost all days then. Lanky and somewhat noticeable as he was a foreigner, he began our conversation right away after we recognized each other’s presence. Somehow uncertain with myself whether to proceed with the conversation, I felt the attraction was mainly due to a certain kind of outstanding difference that I was always yearning for from those I get to encounter in the area. I’ve read somewhere these people just get to hang you down for fun purposes. Still, I attempted to overcome the stereotype, an idea, which I didn’t, really understand completely before.
“How do I get in touch with you?” as he asked me in order for us to focus more with the then ongoing conversation.
He was particularly charming that evening. I remember we eventually settled down in his unit at one of those apartment buildings in Remedios where we did virtually all at the balcony with the CCP as a lucid backdrop. A performance had then been ongoing, as the CCP fountains were on and lighted brightly enough from that distance. Roxas Boulevard looked very cosmopolitan, with the volume of vehicles passing, and the big yet dark expanse of water at the other side. The apartment unit was tastefully designed, sparsely decorated, with much available space for someone who is solo-living, and with us naked outside with Ms Dietrich singing a strange German song in the background.
I later learned he was from the US Navy. I asked if he was a writer, but he replied that only got to write for his dissertation material. With a Ph.D. in Literature from a university in the US (he taught in De La Salle University, but he found his students to be “generally below average”), he had lived for a long while in Morocco, where he had quite a collection of art objects that he sold when he decided to leave and go someplace to proceed with his lifestyle. He mentioned that he often goes back and forth from Hongkong and the Philippines mainly to check on his stockmarket investments. I didn’t know how exactly to deal with him, as he was rather unassuming. Looking back, he could have provided me the means to get away from my limiting background. Among several possibilities, I could have gone out of my way to simply make good use of myself in taking advantage of his wealth. But of course, he was far more wiser than myself. He mentioned about his recent past lover whom he thought was merely taking advantage of his “wealth” - this could be easily relative, though.
I recall that we never really got far with whatever we have attempted to work on due mainly to personal differences in beliefs towards our respective families, handling my own money, political outlook, places to visit as well as general lifestyle. More meetings between us followed. I dreaded about him picking me up from my work in Makati, but he still insisted. My lady officemate, who was rather sophisticated herself on worldly setups like this (I later learned from another source that she had gone of her way, more than once, to pick up from the road her type-of-a guy using her personal car, if she had strongly felt the urge to engage in casual sex), acted somewhat suspicious about my ongoing meetings with him. Of all places, we even had to be meeting somewhere in Greenbelt, just in front of National Bookstore. I recall that he wanted us to be going out on dates. Yet, I simply didn’t have that much drive nor interest in pursuing something far more long term.
Somehow I felt the presence of the soul yet I was in disbelief that he would fall seriously for me, considering that we just met each other in the Walls (a notion which even todate has prevented me from considering serious options from certainly interesting and startling individuals).
The times then were heating on the issue whether the Americans should be kicked out of the Bases in Central Luzon or just maintain the status quo then (I agree with the earlier choice). We had arguments on these related matters while we were in bed. In essence, I just couldn’t contend with (I was younger then) a foreigner who was subtlety mercurial in his views to whatever stand I had then on life in general. He was even nudging me to keep myself away from financially supporting my family, an unusual idea in the usual Philippine extended family support system which, by the way, is one reason why our social system is still intact todate, inspite of the intrusions through the decades. I felt he just couldn’t even stand someone who kept on arguing against his beliefs, particularly someone imposing like me who hails from the Third World.
The times then were heating on the issue whether the Americans should be kicked out of the Bases in Central Luzon or just maintain the status quo then (I agree with the earlier choice). We had arguments on these related matters while we were in bed. In essence, I just couldn’t contend with (I was younger then) a foreigner who was subtlety mercurial in his views to whatever stand I had then on life in general. He was even nudging me to keep myself away from financially supporting my family, an unusual idea in the usual Philippine extended family support system which, by the way, is one reason why our social system is still intact todate, inspite of the intrusions through the decades. I felt he just couldn’t even stand someone who kept on arguing against his beliefs, particularly someone imposing like me who hails from the Third World.
In the end, he got extremely disappointed with me. He disliked the fact that I had to entice him into seriously getting again in another relationship, which I never thought of telling him anyway. He was far, far older than me and he despised my playing naïve yet I felt sophisticated enough in dealing with him. Remarkably, I remember that we practically had the same size - it actually felt weird holding him, I thought I was holding mine - yet I never told him about this fact.
He shut the door strongly at the last time I went to his apartment. Acting rather cold and indifferent, he got extremely mad at me, for I had to courage to dump him, when I felt like doing it the previous night. Today, I was thinking if I could still take my chances again (he must have thought it over). Well, obviously, I was wrong.
“Why do you have to come back? I should have not allowed myself to open up again, you simply hurt me,” as I remember him blurting hurt emotions in one of our last meets. By this time, I have learned to be more guarded with my emotions. Much as I’d like to pursue something long term with him, I felt, I won’t be able to stand the whole thing out, I have not been that prepared yet (so I believe).
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Recently, the walking areas on top of the Walls facing the Manila Bulletin’s Offices along Muralla St served as backdrop to an array of adventures whenever three or more men get bodily together. I had been tired by then due to walking back and forth on the Walls as I had been out since the last evening from a drinking session with some fellows. This was simply one of those nights when there were not that many options moving around. That portion of the Walls renders a vast stage for anything that can be executed with practically the wide horizon of playful clouds above anyone else. From where one stands, one can see the Puerta Real at a very near distance. I guess they call the place Bastion de San Andres. There stands an unusual arsenal like building built in the space hidden by the Walls, with complete tiled roofing, wooden heavy doors, with deep crevices on its three sides that cautiously give one an eerie plunging feeling. It could actually be developed into a very lovely garden if vines, blooming wild flowers, scented blossoms are placed according to a peculiar pattern among those rocky walls.
Recently, some small minded developer has started building some structures in this area near the Puerta Real and the Bastion de San Andres, the portion of the Walls fronting Manila Bulletin Publishing Offices. The Philippine Daily Inquirer has reported that these are supposed to be used as low cost housing projects, if I recall it correctly. Should we be bothered by such recent developments? Yet, I just couldn’t figure out how these can even meet the needs of those poverty stricken families? I mean, perhaps, they wanted to make more appropriate use of available space for the poverty alleviation programs of the Estrada Administration. I guess, they’re thinking of making the whole place more livable as it used to be during the Spanish times. Or perhaps, they’re making the housing spaces for the squatters who are still living in some streets inside Intramuros. I can just imagine how this can even provide for at least a semblance of normalcy in the Walls. Recently, I went in the area one rainy afternoon. Practically nobody was in the area, except for some uninteresting fellows who might just be around in the area to ponder on some past moments in their respective lives. Some have taken the task to do some fishing at the ponds below the Walls. I could see that they were harvesting some quite number of kilos of fishes, mostly tilapia. The greens are in such terrific hues, and the soft rain has started to drizzle. I can see the mountains from Rizal province from the distance. I was delighted to have seen so many swiftlets hovering in a corner of the Walls along Burgos Street leading towards the Manila Hotel. I thought, I couldn’t be able to make it with someone, as I thought no one was particularly interesting. I told myself, days like this happen, as I proceeded to walk. Until I reached Bastion de San Andres, where I saw some enclosures signaling “no trespassing allowed” to any intruders. I saw the state of construction that was taking place and I attempted to cross over. A guard stopped from continuing to do so, as he used his whistle at me. I decided this was not a good day, indeed to proceed with what I have in mind. As I persisted to cruise by walking along the path below the Walls inside, I met someone. He was just taking his chances as he sighted me from a distance. I thought he was okay, but he wanted something more swiftly, just like me doing it with him there and then, in full view of those construction men in a site near Letran. I just smiled and moved on.
* * * * * * *
Recently, some small minded developer has started building some structures in this area near the Puerta Real and the Bastion de San Andres, the portion of the Walls fronting Manila Bulletin Publishing Offices. The Philippine Daily Inquirer has reported that these are supposed to be used as low cost housing projects, if I recall it correctly. Should we be bothered by such recent developments? Yet, I just couldn’t figure out how these can even meet the needs of those poverty stricken families? I mean, perhaps, they wanted to make more appropriate use of available space for the poverty alleviation programs of the Estrada Administration. I guess, they’re thinking of making the whole place more livable as it used to be during the Spanish times. Or perhaps, they’re making the housing spaces for the squatters who are still living in some streets inside Intramuros. I can just imagine how this can even provide for at least a semblance of normalcy in the Walls. Recently, I went in the area one rainy afternoon. Practically nobody was in the area, except for some uninteresting fellows who might just be around in the area to ponder on some past moments in their respective lives. Some have taken the task to do some fishing at the ponds below the Walls. I could see that they were harvesting some quite number of kilos of fishes, mostly tilapia. The greens are in such terrific hues, and the soft rain has started to drizzle. I can see the mountains from Rizal province from the distance. I was delighted to have seen so many swiftlets hovering in a corner of the Walls along Burgos Street leading towards the Manila Hotel. I thought, I couldn’t be able to make it with someone, as I thought no one was particularly interesting. I told myself, days like this happen, as I proceeded to walk. Until I reached Bastion de San Andres, where I saw some enclosures signaling “no trespassing allowed” to any intruders. I saw the state of construction that was taking place and I attempted to cross over. A guard stopped from continuing to do so, as he used his whistle at me. I decided this was not a good day, indeed to proceed with what I have in mind. As I persisted to cruise by walking along the path below the Walls inside, I met someone. He was just taking his chances as he sighted me from a distance. I thought he was okay, but he wanted something more swiftly, just like me doing it with him there and then, in full view of those construction men in a site near Letran. I just smiled and moved on.
* * * * * * *
I heard mass one Sunday morning in the Cathedral. This time, I couldn’t recall if this has been one of those Sunday mornings when I found myself cruising in the Walls. Perhaps, I must have decided to start cruising at the Walls at an early morning hour, just like the rest in the pack.
At this point in time, I have garnered many similar experiences when I found myself hearing the mass, either in San Agustin, or at the Manila Cathedral. I must have gone out of a cheap motel recently. I must have spent some few hours with someone who just wanted himself to be fucked as I reminded him of his former lover who worked in Pizza Hut in Baclaran. I felt amused by it all. Or this Sunday could have been one of those in the past when I just have spent the previous night without sleeping. I felt ridiculous and I thought of myself evolving into the imagined sick person that I could easily be, without being completely aware of the situation. Yet, I seek more engagements after this mass, as I promised myself, I’d be in search for more.
At this point in time, I have garnered many similar experiences when I found myself hearing the mass, either in San Agustin, or at the Manila Cathedral. I must have gone out of a cheap motel recently. I must have spent some few hours with someone who just wanted himself to be fucked as I reminded him of his former lover who worked in Pizza Hut in Baclaran. I felt amused by it all. Or this Sunday could have been one of those in the past when I just have spent the previous night without sleeping. I felt ridiculous and I thought of myself evolving into the imagined sick person that I could easily be, without being completely aware of the situation. Yet, I seek more engagements after this mass, as I promised myself, I’d be in search for more.
The mass in the Church has been always one of the simplest celebrations I’ve attended so far in memory. Yet, there was something about its stark simplicity that easily has caught me offguard away from my usual defenses. Guilt feelings slowly crept into being. I saw the poor children in rags offering flowers that they could have gathered in the Walls, themselves. San Agustin’s altar, with its pure red velvety cloth as a background of the Crucified Christ on the Cross, somehow has always made me nudge a bit from the center of my own self. I needed to confront myself, and work on seething conscience that hounds me every now and then. Some of the masses I’ve attended here in Intramuros featured some variety of a wedding in combination with the mass. I felt angry, at my failure to get into a marriage myself. But straights themselves feel apprehensive about the prospects of their own respective marriages, as well. I have my own set of style of departure from this usual setup, as I view the wedding ceremony. At the end, I felt happier, I have watched another wedding. I don’t want to engage myself in empty intellectual discussions of the same sort that attempts to explain why I am into these types of activities. Indeed, my attendance in the Church almost always makes me get into this type of brooding. There were times, I just simply have observed myself weeping, just alone by myself amidst the small crowd that characterize Sunday masses in Intramuros churches.
It was daybreak then, a Sunday actually when many usually decide to take a walk along the Walls. Most have reasons other than to cruise, I suppose. Some just get there to be with others who have similar interests and longings. Some go there merely to watch. The rest may just get there to toil with their bodies by just walking, running, or perhaps angling for fishes that live in the man made lagoons dotting the golf course down the Walls. In fact, there are those who are just around to gather their friends to get into a funny version of a beauty contest – where one gets to see beautiful looking adolescent men participate in a spoof of the typical variety.
I was amidst these individuals who were into a variety of reasons why they were around the area. Up until I met two couples who were largely bounded with each other because of their strong looking and domineering presence, when I finally realized I was already becoming deficient in action. I instantly got attracted to the bunch. Praise God, someone from the group talked to me immediately after I approached them to take a better look on what’s happening. The others in the area were rather making curious glances at what they’re doing. They just couldn’t help but touch each other without restraint whatsoever. I felt, however, like a violating outsider. The ongoing free wheeling conversation dealt on how they behave when they’re within the usual borders of their daily respective lives. I soon realized they must have met each other a few hours earlier. And then, one even pointed out the prevalence of the stereotype from a certain province in the South. He, then shifted, to his unexpressed fear which his colleagues may have eventually affirmed by the way they treat him on how he was handling his fear of his inner desires. He’s into public engineering works, as he shyly informed us then. Someone commented a stupid remark for all to hear; not exactly to express any similarity of a sympathetic concerns whatsoever. He then pointed out that there are really many like us around. Too many, they abound the perimeters and beyond the Walls. When pressed for some details, he nonchalantly told us about his previous work as a callboy. Spending more than two years as a commercial sex worker to the clients of Club 690 (he told us, the place used to be the place to be when one’s looking for fun and service way back in the mid 70s up to the late 80s then), he easily had interesting partners. There was even one Major from the military with whom he had spent more than three years in a relationship.
“Gusto ko yung hindi maarte. Basta ba nagkakaintindihan kami ng gusto namin sa isa’t isa, tuloy tuloy na kami. Yun bang hawakan ko lang ang braso, alam na nya. Wala nga kaming pinaguusapan tungkol sa kabadingan. Ewan ko nga ba? Basta ba, okay sa kanya, okay rin sa akin. Nagtagal kami nang isang iyon, ibinahay nya ako for more than two years, nagselos lang kasi dahil sa nadiskubre nyang mga tumatawag sa akin” ("I want someone who's got no qualms. As long as we know, and agree on what we want from each other, we'll pursue what's on hand. Example: I'll just his arms, he'll know what I want. We wouldn't talk about being gay. I don't know why? As long as it's OK with him, it's gonna be the same with me. We lasted as lovers for some time; he asked me to live with him for over two years...he just got so jealous when he discovered some guys had been calling me on the phone").
The succeeding details I heard sounded both hilarious and sad at the same time as they brought forward certain real concerns on the variations of the kind of lifestyle we similarly lead. Yet amidst all these, I sensed the kind of liberation from the repression they were enduring while in the middle of that entrapped period of time in the Walls. Soon, one couple was engaged in very wet kissing.
Nevertheless, the ensuing conversation continued to flow to all directions. I soon got to learn that the silent fellow is a Muslim, and that he works with a government agency that deals with the cultural minorities. He seemingly just didn’t want to talk. I just coached him to answer either in the affirmative or the negative. Initially, I just really wanted to know whether he was Muslim or not. I was aware I was threading on volatile grounds that time. The attraction I had towards this man who silently confirmed that he’s a Muslim became stronger as I saw him kissed his lover for the moment on the lips.
Nevertheless, the ensuing conversation continued to flow to all directions. I soon got to learn that the silent fellow is a Muslim, and that he works with a government agency that deals with the cultural minorities. He seemingly just didn’t want to talk. I just coached him to answer either in the affirmative or the negative. Initially, I just really wanted to know whether he was Muslim or not. I was aware I was threading on volatile grounds that time. The attraction I had towards this man who silently confirmed that he’s a Muslim became stronger as I saw him kissed his lover for the moment on the lips.
The other couple followed. Soon the first couple stopped for a while, and one of them motioned me to make it with one of those three or more who were hovering around them. I just resisted the idea, I never felt any attraction whatsoever towards any of those who were then around and just merely watching. He was then being fondled by one of those who were fluttering down us. One couldn’t help but be somewhat startled by the physical dimensions he possessed as he displayed himself amply to us, considering his small yet well framed built. Soon the scene become sweltering in the events that followed. They kept on kissing and the other couple before long followed – I was stuck into just viewing. I decided not to participate actually, I felt bad I couldn’t really engage as I just wanted to make it with the man who told me he’s a Muslim. Nevertheless, a chance soon showed up as his lover was then being worked on by one of those who persevered to participate in the whole scene. I got to talk for while with this Muslim as I caressed his nipples and we suddenly kissed each other. His mouth savored like healthy herbs and spices. Meanwhile, the other couple just followed what the first couple was accomplishing. Every now and then, we had to freeze the whole scene. Some cruisers still persevered in approaching our group. But soon they moved out after they recognized that they’re not invited in the inner circle, and we just carried through with the whole spectacle. They could view us from a safe distance, anyway. After a while we paused and decided we had to move to a more secure corner as I noticed all the bright white clouds hovering around us.
“May naninilip ("There's a peeping tom up there"),” as one pointed to the wide glass windows of the Manila Bulletin Offices at the other side of the section of the Walls. I actually couldn’t discern who were those keeping keen eyes on us from that distance. But I figured out that those construction workers, or some security personnel got interested at what we’re doing with our selves, physically.
“Nakikita mo yung bintanang iyon. Di ba may tao? ("Look at that window. I see someone in there.")” as I soon discerned a brown human face seemingly gazing at us.
“Nakikita mo yung bintanang iyon. Di ba may tao? ("Look at that window. I see someone in there.")” as I soon discerned a brown human face seemingly gazing at us.
Pausing for a while, we soon realized that nothing actually will stop these peeping toms from watching us. In addition, the sun by then got more scorching in its heat above our heads. Nevertheless, we had to make certain adjustments with the arrangements of our bodies every now and then.
The first couple then decided that they couldn’t control themselves anymore. Parting away with their pants to further provide space for each other’s closer examination, they continued to kiss and lick each other. With the sight on hand, I helped myself as well. One of them leaned over the side of the wall covering at least half his body, and he was as if discerning those figures who were watching from the windows of the building on the other side. Safely hidden from that side and directly seating down him was his partner, who was then busy in actively outfitting him what he sought for at the Walls. On the side, the other couple lied down in newspaper matting, as they provided each other full comforting hugs, kisses, and tight bodily search and hone outs. In a few moments, the five of us went on a binge of staving off our passionate cravings.
I recall meeting the same characters in the succeeding cruises that I did in the area. This process has been endlessly repeated practically everytime I am in the area. This never fails to amuse me to the extent that I realize that it’s actually a crowded place after all, even if there’s so much space surrounding us in the darkness. Basically, we just turn to each other to acknowledge each other’s presence in the darkness. A glance will actually do. Some smile back if I smile at first. Some are surprised. Most will try to ignore me. Some even will dare go towards different paths, as if they could actually go away. Anyway, everybody’s misguided in the area in the first place. At most instances, I was sure these were the same persons I’ve met in past evenings. We just tend to be less excited of each other as good prospective sex partners in the meantime of current evening. Simply, the excitement has been gone, and we move on to some new prospects that can meet those unidentifiable qualities we actually sought out.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
One recent encounter recalls of someone whom I have met earlier in another area in the Walls. I remember we even had some snacks together, but then, nothing exciting happened between us. I actually thought of him as a good prospect for a long-term partnership. I remember that we must have met each other at least three times. Once, he simply was avoiding my presence. There was even another chance that I noticed some others who were actively cruising after him, as he has this certain physical presence. I remember he told me of his girlfriend who knows his situation. This girlfriend even extends much of herself in implying that she understands him, by telling him she knows what he has been doing, without him admitting anything. I have also gathered that she even knows this guy has had encounters with some other men who live with him in the dormitory.
I recall, he even related to me that he’s an Elementary Education degree graduate and he’s in town doing saleswork for a consumer products retail company. He tells me he drives around sections of Metro Manila, selling various items to sari sari stores. Looking cute in his imposing built, with two rabbit like front teeth, he has remained to be a looker, particularly in that area. He refused my company, actually, then, for I supposed he could see much of himself in me. But this time, when we saw each other near in front of Andres Bonifacio monument, our recognition of each other had to go beyond the usual exchange of hellos. He was on the other side walking towards the short underpass towards Letran College, as he gave me that interesting look. He glanced back at me and I just thought we could get together even for a short while. I didn’t recognize him actually as I followed him in the underpass. We immediately did the works, with him wanting to penetrate me. I was thankful I bought some condoms, but we just failed in making much use of them. He just couldn’t get through me, so we just simulated the act, while he jacked me off. All the while our encounter was twice interrupted by passersby. He was looking at me intently, as I saw him give me the quizzical look of recognition, as he soon realized we have actually met before. I never talked to him about it, as I worked on him. I recall with thanks that I might have come, but sadly, I knew well that he never did. It must have been the alcohol in him, as both of us smelt of alcohol that early, early morning.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
I try to move on, and not be bothered anymore with these cruising evenings. Yet, after each periodic effort, my attempts fail. Perhaps, I need to be back every now and then, just as to be reaffirmed of my being. I now cover the grounds along the Manila Hotel, as the view along this section offers much more in many aspects.
One encounter refers to someone who sprouted out of the darkness, one late evening, as I was already preparing myself to wait for better prospects. Those who came earlier seemed to look quite uninteresting. I simply couldn’t get going until I saw this one who looked as if he was merely passing by. He appeared in his late twenties, quite big in his frame of 170 pounds, and very typical of those men I see in Cavite or in Batangas. There were many attempts for the two of us to finally get to talk with each other, but at the onset, we kept from talking by settling ourselves to study each other’s presence. He had this tabloid with him, as he tried to show to me that he was reading its contents. Somehow, we overcome the first thirty minutes. This procedure of merely studying each other closely continued until, I went out of myself to speak the first word. He simply couldn’t control himself from showing me what he has, as I noticed the bulge. He was then, very much willing, and we settled to look for a place outside the Puerta del Postigo. The ruins of Fr Blanco’s garden can be seen from a distance. He led me to a space behind some plants. He neatly laid down the pages of the tabloid to serve as our instant groundsheet. I thought we could easily be caught barefooted, in case, someone decides to be there that second just with a goal to catch men like us. He felt free in lying down on what he prepared. It looked so convenient. I felt panicky, as I was unwilling to engage with him at he guided me towards his body. He has then removed down his pants up to his feet, plus his shirt rolled up to his nipples. Soon, this shirt was removed completely as I groped with his body.
We thought we were not satisfied with what took place – he simply couldn’t believe himself doing those things there. I just wanted to believe him, anyway, as the prospect of something new rather excites me. This could easily be a repeat yet I recognize some obvious differences. We proceeded to get into a conversation. We were oblivious from the gazing and surprised presence of those who came passing by as we sat intimately on a bench. Among other information he shared and I got to learn was that he was soon to be married to his long time girlfriend (they were already planning the wedding details), who knows nothing, it seems, about his other activities. He just couldn’t offer any explanation why he is into cruising as well. He offered that it could have been to the extreme excitement that he gets into every time he engages in this. He continues to offer me some info: he’s a roving supervisor with a fairly stable, nationwide company; that he has helped himself get an architecture degree while working with the same firm; that he values his family so much so that he likes to build his own family as well. He told me he dislikes effeminate men. I realize that he is also challenged by the thought that he’s making it with another man who supposedly possesses the stereotype physical attributes. He told me about some men in his work that have accosted him with the prospect of becoming discreetly attached to any one of them. Soon I found out that he gave me a different name, as in the next meetings, he felt the need to protect his own identity from a complete stranger. That same night, we proceeded to engage again with each other in a more private room nearby.
He called me several times at work, as he must have wondered why I haven’t been calling his cell phone. He informed me of his longing at certain nights to receive a call from me. I tried to call, but simply, his cell phone was unreachable by our landline phone. Something was wrong with the connection. We met again and repeated what we did the first time. We could have progressed into something more concrete and stable. I figured this just couldn’t be so as it’s basically an illicit one (though very exciting). I thought I couldn’t be sharing someone very close to me with someone else.
* * * * * * *
We thought we were not satisfied with what took place – he simply couldn’t believe himself doing those things there. I just wanted to believe him, anyway, as the prospect of something new rather excites me. This could easily be a repeat yet I recognize some obvious differences. We proceeded to get into a conversation. We were oblivious from the gazing and surprised presence of those who came passing by as we sat intimately on a bench. Among other information he shared and I got to learn was that he was soon to be married to his long time girlfriend (they were already planning the wedding details), who knows nothing, it seems, about his other activities. He just couldn’t offer any explanation why he is into cruising as well. He offered that it could have been to the extreme excitement that he gets into every time he engages in this. He continues to offer me some info: he’s a roving supervisor with a fairly stable, nationwide company; that he has helped himself get an architecture degree while working with the same firm; that he values his family so much so that he likes to build his own family as well. He told me he dislikes effeminate men. I realize that he is also challenged by the thought that he’s making it with another man who supposedly possesses the stereotype physical attributes. He told me about some men in his work that have accosted him with the prospect of becoming discreetly attached to any one of them. Soon I found out that he gave me a different name, as in the next meetings, he felt the need to protect his own identity from a complete stranger. That same night, we proceeded to engage again with each other in a more private room nearby.
He called me several times at work, as he must have wondered why I haven’t been calling his cell phone. He informed me of his longing at certain nights to receive a call from me. I tried to call, but simply, his cell phone was unreachable by our landline phone. Something was wrong with the connection. We met again and repeated what we did the first time. We could have progressed into something more concrete and stable. I figured this just couldn’t be so as it’s basically an illicit one (though very exciting). I thought I couldn’t be sharing someone very close to me with someone else.
* * * * * * *
As I walked on one night, I got so tired with all the ensuing tiresome small talk and empty silences I got from some prospects. I decided to just allow myself to be cruised by hopefully some interesting fellows. I decided I would just sit for a while along the unlit pathway of Burgos Street. They have just turned off the lights inside the golf range, as it was way past midnight. It was pretty black all throughout except from lights coming from the vehicles and trucks moving towards South Pier. One lanky guy came by walking from the opposite direction of the lights coming from the road. I could see that he looked interesting, though not exactly good looking. Something was within the range of his looks that remind of some naughty events that may yet to come, if I allow myself to get his attention. Somebody was following him, as I get to see him more clearly in his youthful outfit. He sat beside me, I felt relieved. Soon, we were talking.
“Mukhang okay ka naman, sama ka sa akin? ("You seem to be OK....would you like to come with me?),” as I heard him invite me to his place.
I suggested that we just take the taxi, as I understood that he lived quite nearby, which apparently turned out to along the Remedios Circle in Malate. I saw a number of other men who were also in the lookout for some kind of a event, yet they were definitely in a different galaxy of a cruising area, where some different rules of the game are played. Things were turning okay, as I felt proud that I was in for a seemly different night. I almost chickened out when I saw an office colleague of mine standing in a sari sari store, where he was drinking gin with some other three fellows. They were a bit drunk. I felt paranoid. I could sense he knew what I was into, yet I felt, I had to proceed as normal as I could. I just introduced the lanky guy to my officemate, and I thought of buying Coke, just to create some kind of effect. So I just proceeded and followed my companion, just at least for the night, as I supposed.
I suggested that we just take the taxi, as I understood that he lived quite nearby, which apparently turned out to along the Remedios Circle in Malate. I saw a number of other men who were also in the lookout for some kind of a event, yet they were definitely in a different galaxy of a cruising area, where some different rules of the game are played. Things were turning okay, as I felt proud that I was in for a seemly different night. I almost chickened out when I saw an office colleague of mine standing in a sari sari store, where he was drinking gin with some other three fellows. They were a bit drunk. I felt paranoid. I could sense he knew what I was into, yet I felt, I had to proceed as normal as I could. I just introduced the lanky guy to my officemate, and I thought of buying Coke, just to create some kind of effect. So I just proceeded and followed my companion, just at least for the night, as I supposed.
He showed a cube of a room upstairs, where practically all our sound might get to be heard outside. He motioned me to just keep silent as he turned on the 50 watts bulb above our heads. He showed me some photos from a man to man magazine, which he must have thought could provoke something of the sexual in both of us. I told myself, I didn’t need any of these, as I felt aroused anyway, at any rate. He even showed my some fancy photos of himself, which I was sure was taken from the studio, to make him look good, at least the most correct manner possible that the photographer could create into the given limits.
He got a big cache of other photos from a big black portfolio, as were working on ourselves already, already lying naked in the small mat and two big pillows that smelled of big men’s perspiration. He soon revealed to me that he has a lover, who’s away for the next three nights, as he’s abroad, somewhere in Singapore, doing some manpower recruitment business. I soon got so eager to find out who his lover was. I got to befuddled by what he showed me in the photos – his lover possessed such angelic face in a hunk of a man. I took a long, serious at my partner tonight. His lover has one of the best looking faces I’ve seen in along while, as I saw his pictures depicting him almost naked, inside the same room where I lay naked for tonight. Moreso, he’s got such well-toned skin. I was tempted to ask for a copy that I’d like to keep myself. He just smiled and continued with the works that started with the usual tight hugs and kisses all over my face.
As we were working ourselves to eventually come, I kept thinking of his lover. I kept on asking about his partner. My partner told me they got to first meet each other in Cebu City, where they used to work together in SM Cebu, and where both had serious girlfriends. They eventually got to be closed buddies in a gym, where they got to assist each other in the weights, until my partner for the night went back to Manila. Two years ago, they got to bumped into each other in Robinsons Manila and my partner even failed to recognize his present lover. The friendship blossomed, until one night; my partner got himself enough courage to propose into something more serious. They have been lovers since then. One setback though, as my partner, moaned about his lover’s disinterest to explore other areas in their sex lives. My partner apparently wanted more. He could get himself satisfied enough with what his lover was able to provide him. He knew his lover was faithful to him, and he felt proud of their loving friendship. The night was over in a few hours. I felt like telling him to work on the aspect of faithfulness, as I got wake up beside him in preparation for my trip back home.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
One evening could have turned out to be among the ordinary ones had I not got the chance to meet one big fellow who’s also into drugs, particularly shabu. The minute I saw him along the dark pathway near the Manila City Hall, I realized that he was very much for the taking. Wearing a short polo shirts, he had this cute mustache, and sweet smile, and a slowly balding head. In a second, I actually got to fuck him among the bushes, while no one was coming from the visible distance. He was relieved but he wanted to fuck me as well. I thought against the idea, as we could easily be caught with our pants down. Barangay voluntary security personnel have been doing the rounds in the vicinity lately. He walked and we just talked. I asked how he has managed to keep away from getting caught. He smiled and showed me some money bills, and noted that “everything’s just a matter of money,” in his cute Ilonggo accent. We continued walking until we reached the space where an old white Toyota Corolla was parked. He showed me, and I noticed that the car’s back seat have been removed from its place. We could have easily made headway in this space actually.
He lived somewhere in San Antonio Village near Vito Cruz in Makati City. His bed is beside a wide mirror where we could practically watch ourselves while in the bedroom. With the cold blow of air coming from the airconditioner, I felt sexy and free as my mind went out of its own order. We started watching a number of man to man VHS tapes, that showed everything imaginable, without any recognizable stories at all. This was actually my first chance to watch these kinds of tapes in all their glory without fear of being caught by someone who would come out of nowhere. Looking more closely, the actors looked very mechanical in their approach in the given situation, yet the actors possessed such good and well toned bodies. Most didn’t possess that typical passionate outlook that we expect them to get into, at least, in their efforts to portray this whole business of pornographic sex. Soon as the night progressed into a lull, he eventually succeeded in fucking me in the bathroom as we started having sex again upon entering the house that smelled of a particular dried herb. He actually talked very well, even among other people whom I get to meet in my ordinary life. We were completely engaged in a conversation, about the costs of maintaining his lifestyle, as I went about fucking him again as he moaned and moaned up to coming. Very witty and sexual, he remarked that even Senator Juan Ponce Enrile laughs at his effortless witticisms. That evening ended the next day, when I woke up from the voice outside the window. I saw him got up to open the door from the other room. They were talking. I was soon introduced to another tall guy. They’re friends, and they were then involved in advertising needs of the Philippine Airlines (PAL). These were the ads of PAL which showed the “beauty of the Philippines is shining through,” at scenes after scenes of the exquisitely photographed Philippines are shown. We went out and ate in a Japanese restaurant nearby, as both of them continued talking about their meeting with another close friend, who’s a excellent middle aged, sexy actress who also sings well and whom you get to see performing in TV movies once in a while.
We met several times after that initial midnight to breakfast meeting. I soon found out that he possessed the same first and surname, with the Spanish connective “de” in between. He lived with his old mother on the other half of the house that is separated by an undetectable door smartly place among the décor. He also had a doberman dog, that stood almost as tall as myself, that’s quite friendly yet scary to be with, even if he is around. I simply fail to forget this fellow who told me startling things about this kind of lifestyle that we lead.
He told me about his previous job as a General Manager of an overseas recruitment agency that supplies Filipino workers for assignments abroad. He related to me how he had made it with many applicants who willingly have sex with him at any instance, even inside his office. He remarked about the number of good-looking Filipinos who were just very much willing to offer themselves just as to get employment abroad. I guess, this must have true as well in some other agencies.
Another of notable stories includes that of his encounters with some other young, cool and tall men whom he get to meet in the malls. They usually get enthralled by his smart talking approach, as each of them get to follow his usual details of his ritual. He smiles and appears ultra friendly. He appears helpless and longing. They talk. They drink. He brings the catch to his car. They may get into taking some drugs. And he usually ends up fucking each of them. It gives him extreme pleasure to get to fuck the type of man who has never even thought nor invited the idea of getting fucked in his whole life, earlier. This type usually ends up crying, after realizing the kind of experience he has gone through, as if losing his innocence.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
The first time I got to meet this chap, he was in complete black attire, from top to bottom, to include an expensive pair of black shoes. He wears the latest cut in hairstyle then, which helped make him looked considerably younger. I’ve noticed that his facial skin must have been treated regularly by a dermatologist, as it looked rosy and tender. He confirmed this to me later. There is an air of over confidence around him yet he was not at all condescending in attitude (unlike some typical fellows who carry that poor attitude on their sleeves when dealing with guys not of their social kind). That first time, he immediately dropped down his woolen pants, as he allowed me to fuck him, right there and then, among the bushes just after the Manila City Hall across the street. It took as a while to get over the act, as he wanted more and more of what I could provide him.
We were talking about his arrival from abroad a few hours earlier prior to his cruise in the Walls. Growing curious, I asked him about the kind of business that he has, but he refused to give me additional details. Yet he willingly volunteered to inform me that he lived somewhere in one of those townhouse units in Valle Verde. He was worried as his old, nagging mother, come breakfast time, would then be asking him again as to his whereabouts the night before. He needed again to work on the security guard of the association, just as to silence the guard from ever telling his mother as to what time he arrived the night before.
He gave me his number, which I actually used to get in touch with him. He was almost always panicky whenever he receives a call from me, typically unlike when he’s the one who gets in touch with me. In fact, we met several times. I even recall agreeing to meeting with him at an SM Cinema outlet in Quezon City, where he gave me a blow job, while I was intently watching a serious foreign film amidst the darkness of an almost empty theatre.
We saw each other somewhere near the Metropolitan Theatre, just across the flyover leading towards Quiapo. He was with another friend whom he introduced to me, as he was delighted to see me again. We had sex, right there and then, in front of his friend, as the strong rains were falling, as were doing out thing underneath a covered space in the space-for-rent of the Theatre.
9. Some Unfinished Ventures
The book is now available, in hardcover, paperback & ebook formats, from my online store, Amazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.com, Powell'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.
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.
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My "GoodReads" reviews
The Garden of Two Dragons Fucking by Jerusalino V. AraosMy review
rating: 5 of 5 starsremarkably 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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