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.
Even before I would care to recall some of the more interesting of my encounters, I've always preferred the company of older men. And some of them have been involved with me in more intimate ways than the usual. This, being another confessional posting again, will focus on one particular older guy who has been more of a real, good friend to me since we met each other over a year ago in a dance. I think it's the sexiness of the idea of making it with a conservative Jewish guy that has made me seriously pursue this friendship. I knew it from start that he was attracted to me but I was sending him a lot of confusing signals, so the seduction couldn't proceed until we were together in his old apartment in SoHo one time. And I was mesmerized by the connection we had the first time. We would then make use of a lot of reasons to be together, most especially those involving my efforts to build an online business. He's been supporting my efforts mainly by providing for items that would be included in my inventory, and which I've been marketing and selling successfully as I continue growing my online retail business.
In the meantime, we have planned to meet and engage in activities that were decidedly erotic, activities that only two like minded individuals would understand. Readers and viewers can only get glimpses on what exactly happens when two individuals who like each other decide to meet. again and again. We still continue to meet up even if we are not in touch for weeks. I would refer to this particular guy as one of those other parties one time when I had a spat with another really nice fellow with whom I keep an ongoing open relationship, when I said: "I would have you in mind even if I'm having sex with other guys, because I've been missing you." Such a statement sounds irresponsible and stupid but I was being honest and truthful. It also says that I'm grateful that I'm able to continue liking and loving several individuals practically all at the same time. Note, too, that this particular guy has his own long term partner, whom I know he loves dearly; I've heard him say many times that he loves his partner and which I like to believe. And I understand really what he has and able to share with other individuals who truly love him as to who he really is as a unique person.
And I would recall one time in a dance event how he said he loved me, which I heard him say in between certain dance steps we were making during that night. I knew he meant it and I have loved recalling the memory every chance I have. I knew he was being generous and I've been happy receiving the kind of great love he has for me.
I know we will still meet one of these days. We've grown to know each other that well, I like to believe. His generation is really more similar to those who grew up as adults in the 70s in New York City. He's among the pioneers who did a lot of work making sure the generation of men today would lead relatively manageable lifestyles especially when it comes to facing bravely their respective personas as being gay or bisexual individuals. I see from him how those guys before me have led their sexual lives with themselves and their varied partners; I get a taste of that whenever I'm with him.
I asked him if it's OK if I write about our meetings; he said the idea didn't really bother him as he knows I'm a writer. He would even want to offer and share more, the sense of such an idea I get from him when we're together. He's really a wellspring of grace and kindness, just like all the other individuals I've met and have had the honor to deal with in the many areas of my life. And we would talk about a lot of other topics, including religion, philosophy, art, business, music, human relationships, dance. And that's why probably I continue to get attracted to older men, which can be shocking to some readers and viewers as the world's basically focused on highlighting youthfulness and those related to the young.
In Memory of A Very Dear Friend Who Was Murdered in His Quezon City Apartment
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.
These days, whenever I recall the memory of a very dear friend who was murdered in his Quezon City apartment, I would say a brief prayer and proceed to utter some lines like I was talking to myself, but which are actually lines I imagine I would have told him if he was still around. I terribly miss this good man, and I think he knows that. He'd make his presence felt one way or another; I come into terms now that I won't be able to share him stories of my daily life here in New York City (NYC) where I've moved close to 7 years ago. I would have gone out of my way to persuade and convince him to take the leap by giving up his very comfortable lifestyle back in the Philippines but decided I won't do it. I did exactly what I would have dreamed of telling him on what to do with his life direction and I have been continuing with the moving on process. And this posting should have been in my 'Moving On' blogs but I would be sharing explicit details that may be too frank and offensive to certain readers. And I think some relatives of this very good friend of mine, if ever they get to read this, will also be offended, one way or another. I've no harm nor malice against them; I just like to get my good friend's murder mystery be solved now.
In the Philippines, we usually refrain from bringing up the memory of someone who's greatly beloved in less than hallowed terms whenever we recall them, as we believe they've become saints and have to be held in utmost respect (especially because they can't be able to defend themselves). But I'll be taking the risk of being damned for doing this. This is my way to take action over my prayers to have my good friend's murder be solved and those persons involved in his murder be hailed to court and meted the correct amount of justice in due time. My point really is continue creating and sustaining awareness about this murder, which I know will be repeated again and again unless the perpetrators or the actual murderers are hailed to court and be given justice.
My good friend was murdered by someone he knew personally. It's obvious that he won't have let him into his apartment if he didn't know him personally; they're not mere acquaintances and they had met many times before. I hope I'm wrong with this but he could have been one of my good friend's regular lovers, some of whom I never got to meet because I moved here in NYC. Just like myself, my good friend loved variety. And as for someone who would show up to my friend's apartment, he'd have to figure out how to get into that semi-fortress-like apartment as my good friend made sure he would have to follow a particular process to unlock his apartment's doors just to let someone in. Unwittingly, he decided to let his murderer in.
I like to believe there was just a single murderer. And the murderer was also a thief; he took my friend's celfone, a number of clothes and other stuff. As a sign that he's more smarter than the usual murderer, he didn't take my friend's car, which was parked in front of the apartment. After much thinking I did over possible scenarios, I would venture into some hits and misses here to pinpoint possible murderers still in the lurk out there and are preparing to make the next kill. I like to believe that the murderer's a manly kind of a man, most probably with brown skin and well proportioned physique.
As to figuring out the motivations, I like to believe the murderer is someone who is very angry, which emotions he couldn't voice out loudly often enough, at goodlooking gay people who have been leading very successful lives in the context of being in Philippine society where poverty remains to be a common factor being experienced by many. It seems like it's a huge jarring contradiction that such goodlooking, well-off men would have so much in life in a sea of people who may have been leading miserable, poverty stricken (which we can only observe on the surface) but not necessarily sad lives. And these men would still prefer to have sex with other men, whenever they want it and they have the means to pay just to make it with other men. It's almost an insult for someone who has grown up in the Philippines to see that some people would behave like they're just taking so many things for granted. And someone like him would be simple minded enough to be encouraged to murder men who have sex with other men. He may have grown to be guilt ridden for some time for allowing himself to be seduced, to have enjoyed the pleasure and to have sex with such types of men and be paid for it (one way or another). Given his value system, he has to take revenge in an opportune time, which soon came to my good friend. I like to believe what happened to my friend has been the outcome of getting someone so envious and be so enraged that he had to step out and eventually kill, and in this case, my good friend.
My good friend would fit those descriptions to a 'T.' We had known each other way back in high school years and he's one of the best looking guys I've met and known. We would always be thought as lovers by strangers and other acquaintances who would meet us the first time. We behaved like we're that intimate with each other, and I like to believe we really cared for each other. I don't wonder really as to why people think of us in that manner; even one of my former girlfriends thought we were lovers but she would find out that she was mistaken. And I know why we couldn't be lovers because we have very similar tastes when it comes to the type of men we would love to meet up, seek after and get intimate with. And I supposed we were doing very similar activities when in bed with these men; we were never in bed together. I think my friend's too goodlooking for my taste, honestly.
And the murderer made sure he would not leave until he killed my friend. My friend most probably died a slow painful death. His face was lacerated on many sides and mangled, and even his eyes were plucked out (based on what I heard from another friend who saw him the next day lying dead on the kitchen floor close to the bathroom). It was a good decision during the funeral to accede to my friend's wishes (mentioned many times while he was still alive) to have the casket remain closed so his corpse won't be gawked at by people.
A number of reports on similar deaths have been made in the Philippines, and I could relate to you the stories of other people I know who have died in similar circumstances like those surrounding the grim death of my good friend. As we loved to drink and get crazy together, my good friend and I would be at many bars where we would learn from other sources about certain men who were known to us and had been murdered by unknown people. Gossip about these stories are very common. What's more common among these deaths is that these men, when they were still around, were known to be men who had sex with other men. You may label such a lifestyle the way you want. And there seems to be a disturbing silence cast over these deaths by certain members of Philippine society. Some of them are among the elite families of Philippine society, who I like to believe, prefer not to be exposed to shame and unnecessary spin of intrigues that some may think about when they learn about such stories. Most continue with their usual lives being in denial on what happened to some of their loved ones, rather than bravely facing truths that would help them lead more significant lives.
Let's see how this murder would be solved, sooner or later.
These days, whenever I recall the memory of a very dear friend who was murdered in his Quezon City apartment, I would say a brief prayer and proceed to utter some lines like I was talking to myself, but which are actually lines I imagine I would have told him if he was still around. I terribly miss this good man, and I think he knows that. He'd make his presence felt one way or another; I come into terms now that I won't be able to share him stories of my daily life here in New York City (NYC) where I've moved close to 7 years ago. I would have gone out of my way to persuade and convince him to take the leap by giving up his very comfortable lifestyle back in the Philippines but decided I won't do it. I did exactly what I would have dreamed of telling him on what to do with his life direction and I have been continuing with the moving on process. And this posting should have been in my 'Moving On' blogs but I would be sharing explicit details that may be too frank and offensive to certain readers. And I think some relatives of this very good friend of mine, if ever they get to read this, will also be offended, one way or another. I've no harm nor malice against them; I just like to get my good friend's murder mystery be solved now.
In the Philippines, we usually refrain from bringing up the memory of someone who's greatly beloved in less than hallowed terms whenever we recall them, as we believe they've become saints and have to be held in utmost respect (especially because they can't be able to defend themselves). But I'll be taking the risk of being damned for doing this. This is my way to take action over my prayers to have my good friend's murder be solved and those persons involved in his murder be hailed to court and meted the correct amount of justice in due time. My point really is continue creating and sustaining awareness about this murder, which I know will be repeated again and again unless the perpetrators or the actual murderers are hailed to court and be given justice.
My good friend was murdered by someone he knew personally. It's obvious that he won't have let him into his apartment if he didn't know him personally; they're not mere acquaintances and they had met many times before. I hope I'm wrong with this but he could have been one of my good friend's regular lovers, some of whom I never got to meet because I moved here in NYC. Just like myself, my good friend loved variety. And as for someone who would show up to my friend's apartment, he'd have to figure out how to get into that semi-fortress-like apartment as my good friend made sure he would have to follow a particular process to unlock his apartment's doors just to let someone in. Unwittingly, he decided to let his murderer in.
I like to believe there was just a single murderer. And the murderer was also a thief; he took my friend's celfone, a number of clothes and other stuff. As a sign that he's more smarter than the usual murderer, he didn't take my friend's car, which was parked in front of the apartment. After much thinking I did over possible scenarios, I would venture into some hits and misses here to pinpoint possible murderers still in the lurk out there and are preparing to make the next kill. I like to believe that the murderer's a manly kind of a man, most probably with brown skin and well proportioned physique.
As to figuring out the motivations, I like to believe the murderer is someone who is very angry, which emotions he couldn't voice out loudly often enough, at goodlooking gay people who have been leading very successful lives in the context of being in Philippine society where poverty remains to be a common factor being experienced by many. It seems like it's a huge jarring contradiction that such goodlooking, well-off men would have so much in life in a sea of people who may have been leading miserable, poverty stricken (which we can only observe on the surface) but not necessarily sad lives. And these men would still prefer to have sex with other men, whenever they want it and they have the means to pay just to make it with other men. It's almost an insult for someone who has grown up in the Philippines to see that some people would behave like they're just taking so many things for granted. And someone like him would be simple minded enough to be encouraged to murder men who have sex with other men. He may have grown to be guilt ridden for some time for allowing himself to be seduced, to have enjoyed the pleasure and to have sex with such types of men and be paid for it (one way or another). Given his value system, he has to take revenge in an opportune time, which soon came to my good friend. I like to believe what happened to my friend has been the outcome of getting someone so envious and be so enraged that he had to step out and eventually kill, and in this case, my good friend.
My good friend would fit those descriptions to a 'T.' We had known each other way back in high school years and he's one of the best looking guys I've met and known. We would always be thought as lovers by strangers and other acquaintances who would meet us the first time. We behaved like we're that intimate with each other, and I like to believe we really cared for each other. I don't wonder really as to why people think of us in that manner; even one of my former girlfriends thought we were lovers but she would find out that she was mistaken. And I know why we couldn't be lovers because we have very similar tastes when it comes to the type of men we would love to meet up, seek after and get intimate with. And I supposed we were doing very similar activities when in bed with these men; we were never in bed together. I think my friend's too goodlooking for my taste, honestly.
And the murderer made sure he would not leave until he killed my friend. My friend most probably died a slow painful death. His face was lacerated on many sides and mangled, and even his eyes were plucked out (based on what I heard from another friend who saw him the next day lying dead on the kitchen floor close to the bathroom). It was a good decision during the funeral to accede to my friend's wishes (mentioned many times while he was still alive) to have the casket remain closed so his corpse won't be gawked at by people.
A number of reports on similar deaths have been made in the Philippines, and I could relate to you the stories of other people I know who have died in similar circumstances like those surrounding the grim death of my good friend. As we loved to drink and get crazy together, my good friend and I would be at many bars where we would learn from other sources about certain men who were known to us and had been murdered by unknown people. Gossip about these stories are very common. What's more common among these deaths is that these men, when they were still around, were known to be men who had sex with other men. You may label such a lifestyle the way you want. And there seems to be a disturbing silence cast over these deaths by certain members of Philippine society. Some of them are among the elite families of Philippine society, who I like to believe, prefer not to be exposed to shame and unnecessary spin of intrigues that some may think about when they learn about such stories. Most continue with their usual lives being in denial on what happened to some of their loved ones, rather than bravely facing truths that would help them lead more significant lives.
Let's see how this murder would be solved, sooner or later.
A Few Remarkable Nagoya, Japan Memories
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.
During a personal trip to Japan, I experienced the kind and generous hosting of other Filipinos whom I've never met before. I happened to have told another Philippine-based friend that I was planning a personal trip to Japan and was wondering who could host me as I wanted to save some of my money, which I expected to spend much in Japan---you know, Japan is among the most expensive places to visit on earth. And this friend volunteered to ask some of his good friends in Nagoya, Japan. These friends immediately agreed to host me, and would even go out of their way to pick me up from the airport. It was during this trip that I also took the chance to visit Tokyo and other locations where I was also graciously hosted in the houses of other set of friends whom I personally know back in the Philippines.
Among many wonderful memories, I will always secretly smile over those memories my friends made sure I experienced while having adult fun activities while in Japan, including those in Nagoya, a city that's not Tokyo nor Osaka in size but a respectable metropolis that's as interesting as any other major city in Japan. One set of memories involves having me visit a bathhouse, the other variety where men would show up in certain hours to make it with other men. Japan, apparently, has nothing much in terms of similarities when it comes to its approach in handling issues related to men having sex with other men. Its people are very frank and open about these matters, including those related to more usual lifestyles, although you'd still see the hush-hush attitude toward certain kinds of lifestyles. They are not surprised; it's just that most of them believe men and women have distinctive set of roles to play as responsible members of their relatively homogeneous society. Don't be surprised, but you'd be able to watch porn channels on TV anytime. But you won't be able to see the performers' genitals as they're usually blotched out for viewers not to see them (and you'll be able to see everything else). You'll blush if you're not used to such TV scenes available and easily accessible to anyone. They're just one of those normal things when you find yourself in Japan, which things include graphically shocking manga (comics) available everywhere.
And in Nagoya, I found myself during that trip being toured inside one of those bathhouses. I've been to several sento locations in Japan many times, which are very memorable places as well, but in this kind of bathhouse where I was given a tour by one of my hosts, men would go to meet their cravings for specific sexual needs. After walking on the ground and upper floors for some time, I would yield to what I would acknowledge as being part of the erotic image in my mind and I would remember making it with someone young, tall, thin and sexy, the type of whom some white men I've met would drool over. It was below freezing degrees outside but the degrees that crept in between that guy's body and my own would have been enough to hardboil an egg, so to speak (and just to give you an idea of how and what events go about in that particular bathhouse). And there were long moments of kissing and hugging, the details of which I'd love to recall vividly once in a while.
My friend, who was then already done with his own cruising, was already waiting for me in the lobby after I finished with my own and would have still wanted to venture for more but I recalled I had company waiting for me. I would just smile upon seeing him and was grateful that he waited for me. Men in that particular spot, just like in most bathhouses, like their men to be younger, and that seemed to be the rule. Thankfully, I was still younger then, and was rather confident with my looks. The whole scenario's a vanity exercise to learn from on how to engage in cruising and be accomplished in the end, and it's a strong reminder that we have to take good care of ourselves, most particularly our physical selves, in order to survive long in this kind of lifestyle. We would never know when the next chance will come, and so, we better be prepared.
During a personal trip to Japan, I experienced the kind and generous hosting of other Filipinos whom I've never met before. I happened to have told another Philippine-based friend that I was planning a personal trip to Japan and was wondering who could host me as I wanted to save some of my money, which I expected to spend much in Japan---you know, Japan is among the most expensive places to visit on earth. And this friend volunteered to ask some of his good friends in Nagoya, Japan. These friends immediately agreed to host me, and would even go out of their way to pick me up from the airport. It was during this trip that I also took the chance to visit Tokyo and other locations where I was also graciously hosted in the houses of other set of friends whom I personally know back in the Philippines.
Among many wonderful memories, I will always secretly smile over those memories my friends made sure I experienced while having adult fun activities while in Japan, including those in Nagoya, a city that's not Tokyo nor Osaka in size but a respectable metropolis that's as interesting as any other major city in Japan. One set of memories involves having me visit a bathhouse, the other variety where men would show up in certain hours to make it with other men. Japan, apparently, has nothing much in terms of similarities when it comes to its approach in handling issues related to men having sex with other men. Its people are very frank and open about these matters, including those related to more usual lifestyles, although you'd still see the hush-hush attitude toward certain kinds of lifestyles. They are not surprised; it's just that most of them believe men and women have distinctive set of roles to play as responsible members of their relatively homogeneous society. Don't be surprised, but you'd be able to watch porn channels on TV anytime. But you won't be able to see the performers' genitals as they're usually blotched out for viewers not to see them (and you'll be able to see everything else). You'll blush if you're not used to such TV scenes available and easily accessible to anyone. They're just one of those normal things when you find yourself in Japan, which things include graphically shocking manga (comics) available everywhere.
And in Nagoya, I found myself during that trip being toured inside one of those bathhouses. I've been to several sento locations in Japan many times, which are very memorable places as well, but in this kind of bathhouse where I was given a tour by one of my hosts, men would go to meet their cravings for specific sexual needs. After walking on the ground and upper floors for some time, I would yield to what I would acknowledge as being part of the erotic image in my mind and I would remember making it with someone young, tall, thin and sexy, the type of whom some white men I've met would drool over. It was below freezing degrees outside but the degrees that crept in between that guy's body and my own would have been enough to hardboil an egg, so to speak (and just to give you an idea of how and what events go about in that particular bathhouse). And there were long moments of kissing and hugging, the details of which I'd love to recall vividly once in a while.
My friend, who was then already done with his own cruising, was already waiting for me in the lobby after I finished with my own and would have still wanted to venture for more but I recalled I had company waiting for me. I would just smile upon seeing him and was grateful that he waited for me. Men in that particular spot, just like in most bathhouses, like their men to be younger, and that seemed to be the rule. Thankfully, I was still younger then, and was rather confident with my looks. The whole scenario's a vanity exercise to learn from on how to engage in cruising and be accomplished in the end, and it's a strong reminder that we have to take good care of ourselves, most particularly our physical selves, in order to survive long in this kind of lifestyle. We would never know when the next chance will come, and so, we better be prepared.
Doing Paid Massage Gigs that Usually Lead to Something More
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.
There was a period during my first few years in New York City (NYC) that I figured out a way to make money to make ends meet was thru active offering of massages to all those interested to shell out money in exchange for these services. Actually, these are honest-to-goodness whole body massages that in most cases would lead to something else, such that it's understood by authorities that providing such services are really just among the many fronts of prostitution, which still remains illegal. And to offer the services on Craigslist is somewhat a sign that something else happens beyond the usual.
A lot of these gigs I did, really and admittedly, had fun endings. It's implied that such endings would happen and has never been discussed openly between myself and a client before we went into the massage session. Don't be surprised about this as you can read serious literature where such massage sessions have been accounted most extensively, described as 'glorious,' and they have happy endings, too. In most parts of Asia where I hail from, massages happen and are considered very normal. And with my massage gigs, fun means having a great conversation happening as the massage ensues from my limbs to my particular client ---it's always an amazing experience and honor for me to be able to massage someone who respects himself / herself, such that a massage session has to happen, despite the busy lives we human beings lead and pursue. It's a spiritual experience, despite the connotations attached to it by some people who may have problems related to intimacy. It's a secret recipe a couple is advised to learn, mix and incorporate at least twice a week in their life as a couple to ensure the relationship will grow and last longer than usual.
As to how I got into massaging is a whole different story by itself, which I will cover in some other future postings. But I can confidently do an honest-to-goodness whole body massage, and I would always be complemented for it, including by those who I would eventually go out on dates with for some time. And I would have repeat clients who call me from time to time when they need a serious, honest-to-goodness, whole body massage (I have strong hands and you'd see me sweating all over as I work on you because I take the work of massaging a human body seriously). Of course, there were clients who didn't really like my style. I would refuse clients' fee to me if they think I did a bad job, or I was thinking they like something else, or if I sensed they weren't happy with my work---some would insist I took the money just to compensate me for time I spent showing up to their place (usually their homes or places of work/business).
One particularly memorable client was this very big guy, who was at least 6'6" in height, with a classic Italian-looking handsome face, middle-aged, with a big tummy that he could have worked out to reduce but was probably so lazy to do so (or probably so sick to do so), but whose face looked like a goodlooking movie star (I can't remember whose, but I was amused by his movie star looks). Upon letting me in to his walk-up messy apartment in the Upper East Side, he would tell me right away to masturbate him as I was plodding on his back, which direct request immediately turned me off. I wanted to do a massage, and not necessarily to masturbate someone and be paid for it. He was then naked, with a limp penis, that could have been more attractive to me if he behaved with more respect towards my presence in his apartment. As far as I could recall, the exchange of lines between us went like this:
"Of course, I expect that you will masturbate me. I saw your profile on Craigslist. Aren't those things expected? Just work on me now," as behaved bored with what I was doing and he would point to me where he wanted me to work on.
"I don't think so. I came here to give you a massage and not necessarily to masturbate you."
"Are you being real?"
"Yes."
"So, you're going to refuse to work on me?"
"Yes, and I'm going to leave now" as I decided this gig won't be as fun, tasteful as I expected when I thought he could have been a fun client based on his looks. This has become a consistent experience with me; the more the person looks awesome physically the more nasty his or her behavior towards others can turn out to be.
He was taken aback but still managed to offer to pay me. He insisted that I take his money just to pay me for my time. Quickly, I gave him back his money, and started leaving his apartment. I was thankful it was over as soon as I sensed he's an ass-hole. Actually, such types of services can be had without the need to pay someone; you just have to work with people who are willing to get into a meet-up with you and it works best if it had been agreed upon prior to a meet-up between two willing, of-age parties.
And I recall having a nasty experience with a lady who provides expensive beauty treatments for a living and whom I personally know prior to our massage session. I was referred to her by another friend who highly recommended me to her. She would be nudged to accept the recommendation but I had a sense that something would go wrong as she kept on asking about my credentials and license, which obviously I could not give her. And one night, I would give her a massage using the techniques I prefer using. And I would fail to listen to what she wanted as she kept on telling me instructions on how to give her a massage. Needless to say, it was a total failure. Soon, we were having a discussion. And I would be enraged feeling so embarrassed, stupid and humiliated. I think I simply made an asshole of myself by agreeing to give this particular client a massage, which I failed to deliver because I wasn't doing the kind of massage that she was used to getting from her regular old Chinese masseur.
Of course, I would refuse the money she handed me, even if she kept on insisting I take it. I would still like to keep my self respect, whatever was left of it. And my friend who was around during the massage was also embarrassed and we would not talk about it anymore in the future, as if it didn't happen. Thankfully, that scenario still stays up to now. After that experience, I would keep away from doing massage gigs anymore, except for clients who have become good friends of mine. Some of these friends, if they only knew how to properly approach me, could actually get these massages for free but I'm not telling them that --- giving massages is really hard, mentally draining work, period.
And I've figured out, in due time, that I'll take formal massage lessons and would to get my licence. With this approach, I'll gain some more respect as a masseur here in NYC, where a host of people who claims to be offering honest-to-goodness massages live and pursue their lives' interests. Personally, I love to give and receive massages; it's just that most people out there are dirty minded about this kind of job. Their miserable, failed sex lives are projected on you as they try to pay you to get what they want in order to become intimate with you, another human being, and which need for intimacy is a very basic one in order to grow and develop as a person.
Be my next client, if we can find a common time to do a massage, given the crazy schedule I follow because of my other activities here in NYC. We can also do massage exchanges if we mutually agree on these arrangements. If you like to try how a massage session happens with me, call or email me for a schedule, and we can get together when you're here in NYC. I can show references, in case you need them.
There was a period during my first few years in New York City (NYC) that I figured out a way to make money to make ends meet was thru active offering of massages to all those interested to shell out money in exchange for these services. Actually, these are honest-to-goodness whole body massages that in most cases would lead to something else, such that it's understood by authorities that providing such services are really just among the many fronts of prostitution, which still remains illegal. And to offer the services on Craigslist is somewhat a sign that something else happens beyond the usual.
A lot of these gigs I did, really and admittedly, had fun endings. It's implied that such endings would happen and has never been discussed openly between myself and a client before we went into the massage session. Don't be surprised about this as you can read serious literature where such massage sessions have been accounted most extensively, described as 'glorious,' and they have happy endings, too. In most parts of Asia where I hail from, massages happen and are considered very normal. And with my massage gigs, fun means having a great conversation happening as the massage ensues from my limbs to my particular client ---it's always an amazing experience and honor for me to be able to massage someone who respects himself / herself, such that a massage session has to happen, despite the busy lives we human beings lead and pursue. It's a spiritual experience, despite the connotations attached to it by some people who may have problems related to intimacy. It's a secret recipe a couple is advised to learn, mix and incorporate at least twice a week in their life as a couple to ensure the relationship will grow and last longer than usual.
As to how I got into massaging is a whole different story by itself, which I will cover in some other future postings. But I can confidently do an honest-to-goodness whole body massage, and I would always be complemented for it, including by those who I would eventually go out on dates with for some time. And I would have repeat clients who call me from time to time when they need a serious, honest-to-goodness, whole body massage (I have strong hands and you'd see me sweating all over as I work on you because I take the work of massaging a human body seriously). Of course, there were clients who didn't really like my style. I would refuse clients' fee to me if they think I did a bad job, or I was thinking they like something else, or if I sensed they weren't happy with my work---some would insist I took the money just to compensate me for time I spent showing up to their place (usually their homes or places of work/business).
One particularly memorable client was this very big guy, who was at least 6'6" in height, with a classic Italian-looking handsome face, middle-aged, with a big tummy that he could have worked out to reduce but was probably so lazy to do so (or probably so sick to do so), but whose face looked like a goodlooking movie star (I can't remember whose, but I was amused by his movie star looks). Upon letting me in to his walk-up messy apartment in the Upper East Side, he would tell me right away to masturbate him as I was plodding on his back, which direct request immediately turned me off. I wanted to do a massage, and not necessarily to masturbate someone and be paid for it. He was then naked, with a limp penis, that could have been more attractive to me if he behaved with more respect towards my presence in his apartment. As far as I could recall, the exchange of lines between us went like this:
"Of course, I expect that you will masturbate me. I saw your profile on Craigslist. Aren't those things expected? Just work on me now," as behaved bored with what I was doing and he would point to me where he wanted me to work on.
"I don't think so. I came here to give you a massage and not necessarily to masturbate you."
"Are you being real?"
"Yes."
"So, you're going to refuse to work on me?"
"Yes, and I'm going to leave now" as I decided this gig won't be as fun, tasteful as I expected when I thought he could have been a fun client based on his looks. This has become a consistent experience with me; the more the person looks awesome physically the more nasty his or her behavior towards others can turn out to be.
He was taken aback but still managed to offer to pay me. He insisted that I take his money just to pay me for my time. Quickly, I gave him back his money, and started leaving his apartment. I was thankful it was over as soon as I sensed he's an ass-hole. Actually, such types of services can be had without the need to pay someone; you just have to work with people who are willing to get into a meet-up with you and it works best if it had been agreed upon prior to a meet-up between two willing, of-age parties.
And I recall having a nasty experience with a lady who provides expensive beauty treatments for a living and whom I personally know prior to our massage session. I was referred to her by another friend who highly recommended me to her. She would be nudged to accept the recommendation but I had a sense that something would go wrong as she kept on asking about my credentials and license, which obviously I could not give her. And one night, I would give her a massage using the techniques I prefer using. And I would fail to listen to what she wanted as she kept on telling me instructions on how to give her a massage. Needless to say, it was a total failure. Soon, we were having a discussion. And I would be enraged feeling so embarrassed, stupid and humiliated. I think I simply made an asshole of myself by agreeing to give this particular client a massage, which I failed to deliver because I wasn't doing the kind of massage that she was used to getting from her regular old Chinese masseur.
Of course, I would refuse the money she handed me, even if she kept on insisting I take it. I would still like to keep my self respect, whatever was left of it. And my friend who was around during the massage was also embarrassed and we would not talk about it anymore in the future, as if it didn't happen. Thankfully, that scenario still stays up to now. After that experience, I would keep away from doing massage gigs anymore, except for clients who have become good friends of mine. Some of these friends, if they only knew how to properly approach me, could actually get these massages for free but I'm not telling them that --- giving massages is really hard, mentally draining work, period.
And I've figured out, in due time, that I'll take formal massage lessons and would to get my licence. With this approach, I'll gain some more respect as a masseur here in NYC, where a host of people who claims to be offering honest-to-goodness massages live and pursue their lives' interests. Personally, I love to give and receive massages; it's just that most people out there are dirty minded about this kind of job. Their miserable, failed sex lives are projected on you as they try to pay you to get what they want in order to become intimate with you, another human being, and which need for intimacy is a very basic one in order to grow and develop as a person.
Be my next client, if we can find a common time to do a massage, given the crazy schedule I follow because of my other activities here in NYC. We can also do massage exchanges if we mutually agree on these arrangements. If you like to try how a massage session happens with me, call or email me for a schedule, and we can get together when you're here in NYC. I can show references, in case you need them.
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.
What Got Me Into Writing My First Book Memoir
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.
Some friends and curious readers would ask me what happened that led me to writing down my memoirs. Although parts of the answer could be found when you get the chance to read my book, the easiest answer has been my frustration over being unable to get and form a long term relationship with someone whom I admired and liked the minute I saw him online. He, then, wore a long hairstyle and has been well spoken as expected from someone who graduated from the top Jesuit university in the Philippines. I haven't told him about his influence on me that led me to writing my first book memoir. But we've been reconnected again on Facebook.com after so many years of not being in touch.
I would recall that we were connected in minds and hearts during the exchange of emails we've shared electronically. I don't recall how I got to meet him online but I'm sure I was very fascinated over the idea that I was dealing with an authentic person whom I got to meet the first time thru online means. He's an artist, and I was still then trying to push deep into my subconscious the idea that I wanted to pursue the life of an accomplished artist myself. That happened at least 15 years ago while we were both young and much good looking than we are now. I was still leading and pursuing a corporate lifestyle back in the Philippines, i.e., I was employed full time and was thinking that I would be happy being such until retirement time because my employer's a very stable company back in the Philippines.
And I would recall that this fellow with long hair met up with me in person for the first time in a major pizza house catering to families somewhere in Ortigas, the other major business center in the Philippines, and when the MRT on EDSA was still not built then. I think it was dinner time then and it was a weekday. We were chatting and idling the time away but we could not contain the physical attraction that we had for each other the minute we met. We probably met first in one of the shopping malls in the area until we decided to take a walk and continue talking. I won't be able to recall what we talked about. But I would remember the energy I was sensing from him -- he looked so good to me.
After a few minutes of being in the pizza house, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. We didn't talk about what we wanted to do to each other but I followed him, knocked on the door, and went inside the bathroom with him, which space could only contain one customer at a time. In those few moments of being by ourselves inside that tiny bathroom, we soon found ourselves kissing each other so passionately on the lips. We soon made sure we tasted each other's cocks, which we did quickly. We hugged and kissed each other in such a way that the memory would still linger in me up to now. We both came, I believe.
We never met again after that brief bathroom scene, although we kept in touch online for some time after that encounter. I soon realized the futility of pursuing him and offering a long term relationship with him. He would not be able to do so, as he was then so much involved in a relationship with a Jesuit priest. This fact he admitted to me right away in one of the earliest online exchanges we've done for each other. The Jesuit priest seemed to me to be the jealous type, and who has books on Philippine culture that are considered well written and authoritative. And I didn't want to get in the way in what was happening between them. I would only wish the best for both of them.
In my frustration, and as a way to vent out my rage, I took my seat and started writing drafts of my memoir before my computer.
Some friends and curious readers would ask me what happened that led me to writing down my memoirs. Although parts of the answer could be found when you get the chance to read my book, the easiest answer has been my frustration over being unable to get and form a long term relationship with someone whom I admired and liked the minute I saw him online. He, then, wore a long hairstyle and has been well spoken as expected from someone who graduated from the top Jesuit university in the Philippines. I haven't told him about his influence on me that led me to writing my first book memoir. But we've been reconnected again on Facebook.com after so many years of not being in touch.
I would recall that we were connected in minds and hearts during the exchange of emails we've shared electronically. I don't recall how I got to meet him online but I'm sure I was very fascinated over the idea that I was dealing with an authentic person whom I got to meet the first time thru online means. He's an artist, and I was still then trying to push deep into my subconscious the idea that I wanted to pursue the life of an accomplished artist myself. That happened at least 15 years ago while we were both young and much good looking than we are now. I was still leading and pursuing a corporate lifestyle back in the Philippines, i.e., I was employed full time and was thinking that I would be happy being such until retirement time because my employer's a very stable company back in the Philippines.
And I would recall that this fellow with long hair met up with me in person for the first time in a major pizza house catering to families somewhere in Ortigas, the other major business center in the Philippines, and when the MRT on EDSA was still not built then. I think it was dinner time then and it was a weekday. We were chatting and idling the time away but we could not contain the physical attraction that we had for each other the minute we met. We probably met first in one of the shopping malls in the area until we decided to take a walk and continue talking. I won't be able to recall what we talked about. But I would remember the energy I was sensing from him -- he looked so good to me.
After a few minutes of being in the pizza house, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. We didn't talk about what we wanted to do to each other but I followed him, knocked on the door, and went inside the bathroom with him, which space could only contain one customer at a time. In those few moments of being by ourselves inside that tiny bathroom, we soon found ourselves kissing each other so passionately on the lips. We soon made sure we tasted each other's cocks, which we did quickly. We hugged and kissed each other in such a way that the memory would still linger in me up to now. We both came, I believe.
We never met again after that brief bathroom scene, although we kept in touch online for some time after that encounter. I soon realized the futility of pursuing him and offering a long term relationship with him. He would not be able to do so, as he was then so much involved in a relationship with a Jesuit priest. This fact he admitted to me right away in one of the earliest online exchanges we've done for each other. The Jesuit priest seemed to me to be the jealous type, and who has books on Philippine culture that are considered well written and authoritative. And I didn't want to get in the way in what was happening between them. I would only wish the best for both of them.
In my frustration, and as a way to vent out my rage, I took my seat and started writing drafts of my memoir before my computer.
In Loving Memory of a Very Good Friend Who Regretfully Committed Suicide
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.
We actually met in a nude massage session that used to happen for so many years in an old building almost along the corner of 6th Avenue and 23rd Street in Manhattan. As you would go up the building, you would pass by a gym that had events offering the Brazilian Capoeira to those enthusiastic participants. I would wonder if these fellows had an idea on what had been ongoing in the confines of the walls standing just next to their door. That massage event would usually be posted on Craigslist and I just followed my instincts as I sought out ways to meet up with interesting, unafraid people as soon as I came to stay for good here in New York City (NYC). A number of men showed up that particular night and some of whom created strong impressions on me as each of them, including myself, went about following the voiced out instructions from the organizer, who would demonstrate the various steps, on how to go about giving massages to the one on the massage table up to a certain period and the others would then get onto the table to be massaged. The process is repeated until every one gets massaged. I recall having massaged and gained more confidence in doing massages from at least 15 men that night; I knew I saw a lot of nakedness from among many men, including my own naked self, that night. I would soon find out that that night's session would be more memorable for some other reason. We were not allowed to do beyond massaging and explicitly told not to give happy endings. Everything was supposed to be sensual.
And with that night's massage session being over, I put on my clothes and went out of the building and quickly got into the subway to go home in Jackson Heights, Queens as the weather was cold that night. Inside the system, I saw one of those guys with whom I exchanged massages standing and waiting on the platform; it's not difficult not to miss him as he was lean and tall at 6'4" and was wearing his rimless eyeglasses on. I was soon chatting with him as I decided I would like to get to know him better. Thankfully, he recognized me and we were soon taking the same train going to Queens, which was the 'F,' and we soon surprised ourselves as we were headed to the same directions as we found out we lived one block away from each other. Thinking quickly, I invited him to my building, and suddenly we recognized the need to take action on the attraction that we had for each other. I explained that I live (then) with roommates and I let him in to my tiny bedroom. Nothing happened yet between us at that point. On our way out of my apartment, as it was already becoming late as both of us had to work the next day, we were soon kissing each other on the lips and kept on doing so warmly and intensely. We promised to keep in touch as we exchanged contact numbers. We also kept on kissing each other on the lips as we also groped each other's bodies while waiting for the elevator to come to our floor. It was quick but indeed memorable.
That meeting led to more meetings between us and we would go out to watch Broadway shows together. I would call him the next day and would leave a message, which he returned as soon as he was able to do so. In due time, I was happy being introduced to Broadway culture by someone who moved to NYC precisely to live well and be in the very center of American culture. He would tell me that when he was still a young boy, he pointed out most clearly to his parents that he wanted to move and live in NYC. A Juilliard graduate, he's a musical composer and was then working with a non-profit organization. I would never know why but I would recall having revealed a lot about myself to him, including other stuff that I would now hesitate to share to my closest friends.
With guilt feelings over what I still have in my heart for someone I had lived with for at least 8 years back in the Philippines, I stepped out of my scared feelings and sought out warm company from someone I definitely liked receiving it from. It wasn't difficult to become so involved with him as he's a willing and tireless listener and possessed such a kind hearted personality that I couldn't believe I would meet in NYC. I would just wonder, though, that it was difficult to reach him every now and then. And I had the pleasure of learning that he's from the MidWest and he would go out of his way to interpret and explain the quirks of US culture to someone like me who transplanted himself in the US East Coast. He didn't really explain much, but went out of his way to show me examples so I would better undertand and appreciate better the ins and outs of US culture. For example, we were watching a movie on 'All About Eve' and he would let me watch and note how one of the actors would laugh on screen over hearing that someone's from Wisconsin. I didn't really the get idea at once, but I would later understand the implication, especially because he's from that state.
We went as well to nude yoga sessions, which he introduced to me by way of his invites to me to the nude yoga studio so he would have a ready partner to do certain yoga asanas together. We were in the studio for some sessions, and I would soon be entralled by the benefits of yoga, which I continue to engage into up to the time of this writing. Actually, I would stop for some time in engaging in yoga after he passed on. For awhile, I could not help but recall that he was the one who introduced me to yoga.
Probably, he quickly had an idea that I was then really a tyro in the city. And that he had a Filipino lover before, with whom he was involved with for some time until this guy moved to another state to get married. He would describe the guy to be a young fellow, someone reared up by his grandmother, an attractive Asian man, doing work in the medical field, with problems on pimples on his face, and one who introduced him to Filipino sentimental music and language. Through this boyfriend, he would also be introduced to samples of Filipino food, including pancit and lumpia. He didn't really relish, though, those sweets made from rice flour, I would remember him telling me about what he thought of those food stuff. I knew that he had loved this guy, which knowledge I learned from several conversations with him. I don't think they had been in touch during the last few years of my good friend's life.
He's the first person whom I've known up close and personal who admitted to me that he happened to be a bipolar, and that had to undergo weekly sessions with his therapist. I was taken aback somewhat upon learning this. But I heard early on from my other friends that NYC's full of people who have raging, emotional troubles. I learned about this on him only after over a year of going out with him. Learning that fact about him, I would be able to explain to myself why he would be unreachable from time to time (as in he would not even take my calls, although we had an understanding that we're more than friends).
I think I would still see him in one of those last nude massage meetings in Manhattan before these meetings ended because the long time organizer could not find a reasonably priced location where he could move the event. I didn't really think much about us unexpectedly seeing each other in one of these sessions, although we had been dating each other more often by then. But looking back, I would get surprised by the thought that I should have learned early on and would come handy when it comes to dating with men who were born and raised here in the US. It's important to see this kind of situation from the eyes of an Asian guy like myself who was born and raised back in the Philippines. It would have been a major source of a fight and an exchange of hastily hurled accusations if such a scene happened back in the Philippines between friends who behaved like they've been together and had been intimate with each other. Were we not sufficient for each other's particular needs such that we would still need to go out and find other means to meet them somewhere? I would continue to learn and keep on seeking more learning many other explanations on the dynamics, among other things, of my relationship with him.
He had the chance to sleep one time in my apartment up in Inwood when he had to meet up with his young wards from his job at a nearby school to a weekend culture event, and where he would bring some of them to some places in and out of NYC. I don't recall if we went to bed and had sex that night but we definitely kissed each other before going to sleep as I had to catch my sleep for an early work the next day. I left the apartment before him and left him still in bed that weekend. He would profusely thank me for that as it saved him a lot of travel time from his place in Jackson Heights. Also, I would remember him bringing a busload of his noisy, young and undisciplined wards to Hersheys, Pennsylvania, as well as to Toronto, Canada. He worked hard so that his wards would have the best exposure to works and events on culture and the arts. I once attended an annual musical event that he organized in one of those auditoriums close to the Central Park, where I saw him first hand doing his work for those children who needed to be exposed to the kind of culture that members of the upper elite society of NYC would normally have.
We were together that last night when his much-beloved Mom would breathe her last after a debilitating illness. I recall we watched a Broadway show, and it was a winter night. I would receive a text message from him the next day that he had to rush and get into a flight back to Wisconsin to be with the remains of his Mom who died of cancer. For some months over a period of time, we would meet in his apartment where I would share him my thoughts and the accounts of my own experience from having a Father who died due to lung cancer, which was the same disease that his Mom had.
He would encourage me to move again to Jackson Heights to the same apartment where I used to live, after I told him that I was invited again by my old landlord to consider moving again to the said apartment. He expressed a certain kind of happiness over the possibility that we would be neighbors again, and that we didn't really have to deal about distance (even if most places here in NYC can be reached by public transportation). I would study seriously and would consider to agree to his request but eventually, I would decide to move to another part of the NYC, which was in Chinatown, mainly because I wanted to explore the opportunity that would come with it. I would never know now if he took it personally that I decided against his request.
Looking back, I would have wanted to be more closer to him but he must have deliberately kept distance, mainly because of his sickness, his daily job demands, and his other personal concerns. There would be periods when we won't get in touch with each other, but we would always find ways to catch up with each other whenever certain critical events would happen in our respective lives. I would definitely learn that he would also meet other guys thru online means; I even saw his profile from time to time whenever I would check what had been happening in those sites. We would go out to bars together, drinking and dancing. And I would kiss him on the lips tenderly, and I would recall now that he must have been wondering why I was behaving like I was telling him that we should be more exclusive to each other. I now know that I was being mistaken. We just simply understood each other, and had recognized each other's roles in our respective lives. I know he would tell his therapist about me, too. And I never had the chance to ask him what his therapist had thought about me. Every time I would visit him in his apartment (or every time he would invite me over), we would end up being in bed together, which was almost always wonderful to me. I do hope he had occasions when enjoyed himself as well being with me, which I like to believe he did, as he would come most of the time he and I went to bed together. His queen size bed had satiny-like and very dark-colored, it must have been deep rose in color, sheets, and we must had been in that bed a minimum of at least 30 times. I would particularly remember him on his bed while sleeping in that darkened room, where the form of his body would glisten mainly because of his really pale, white skin.
I would learn much later after he passed on that I was one of the very few people he knew and whom he invited over to his place. One of his sisters knew that I was her brother's boyfriend, which she asked me upon meeting me at the funeral. Except for his relatives or probably those he met online and he had gone to bed with, he never invited people or his other closest friends to visit him in his apartment.
I was the one who convinced him to create a Facebook profile, which he did one evening I was in his place. I gave him instructions on how to go about it; I noticed how surprised and annoyed he was over seeing very familiar faces on Facebook, some of whom he'd rather would not even even deal with in the first place. I didn't really want to ask why as it's not my business. This Facebook profile is the only link I have of him in my social network that still reminds me strongly of a lot of experiences we shared together; I would notice that his profile pic has been removed by someone (most probably upon learning of his death).
Now, I can relate some probable reasons that prompted him to commit suicide. What precipitated the event was the prospect of losing a job that he loved at his last employer. He probably couldn't stand being unemployed again, given the situation of the economy then. He was being asked to teach children, but he definitely would not want to do that, even if he was doing coaching gigs for certain students of music. His direct boss, who talked too much that annoyed him endlessly, threw him into the lions' den, so to speak. During budgeting time, his position was sacrificed so that a more efficient structure in their group would come about following ideas from top ranking officers of the non-profit organization where he worked when I met him. It was a few days after his birthday, which period I would recall brought about heavy rains in NYC, when I would learn he committed suicide from a member of his family who called me at home earlier that grim day to inquire of the last time when got to talk to each other. My friend, during the last few days of his life, was unreachable by me, except for a single text message he sent me in reply to my calls and text messages (which was really nothing new, as he would do that to me, every now and then) -- he promised to be in touch (and I'd known he had been in touch with me, in his own special way, even if I knew from him that he didn't really believe in the afterlife). But I would always appreciate he made sure we'd go out together last time prior to his death; we watched a nice film somewhere in Chelsea; we went to a dinner and ended up having some bottles of beer together in a leather bar somewhere in the same district. Strangely, I would recall now during that last night that we were together that he wore the mien of death on his face, which I inadvertently ignored (who would have thought he'd take his own life? and who would like that to happen to him?).
One of the last few times we went to bed together, he would give me a good rimming, which I only allowed after I had to excuse myself so I could clean that part of me below my stomach and so I won't get embarrassed, just in case. He asked, "Is it that bad?" as we had to break after we had indulged in drinks and food that he prepared himself. I wondered why I had to answer and decided not to respond as I stepped out from his huge lounge chair to excuse myself to the bathroom set next to the wall upon which the chair was placed. After going back, what followed and happened between us was certainly so memorable as I recall having to ask him to fuck me, which he did and he used his fingers to penetrate me.
We actually met in a nude massage session that used to happen for so many years in an old building almost along the corner of 6th Avenue and 23rd Street in Manhattan. As you would go up the building, you would pass by a gym that had events offering the Brazilian Capoeira to those enthusiastic participants. I would wonder if these fellows had an idea on what had been ongoing in the confines of the walls standing just next to their door. That massage event would usually be posted on Craigslist and I just followed my instincts as I sought out ways to meet up with interesting, unafraid people as soon as I came to stay for good here in New York City (NYC). A number of men showed up that particular night and some of whom created strong impressions on me as each of them, including myself, went about following the voiced out instructions from the organizer, who would demonstrate the various steps, on how to go about giving massages to the one on the massage table up to a certain period and the others would then get onto the table to be massaged. The process is repeated until every one gets massaged. I recall having massaged and gained more confidence in doing massages from at least 15 men that night; I knew I saw a lot of nakedness from among many men, including my own naked self, that night. I would soon find out that that night's session would be more memorable for some other reason. We were not allowed to do beyond massaging and explicitly told not to give happy endings. Everything was supposed to be sensual.
And with that night's massage session being over, I put on my clothes and went out of the building and quickly got into the subway to go home in Jackson Heights, Queens as the weather was cold that night. Inside the system, I saw one of those guys with whom I exchanged massages standing and waiting on the platform; it's not difficult not to miss him as he was lean and tall at 6'4" and was wearing his rimless eyeglasses on. I was soon chatting with him as I decided I would like to get to know him better. Thankfully, he recognized me and we were soon taking the same train going to Queens, which was the 'F,' and we soon surprised ourselves as we were headed to the same directions as we found out we lived one block away from each other. Thinking quickly, I invited him to my building, and suddenly we recognized the need to take action on the attraction that we had for each other. I explained that I live (then) with roommates and I let him in to my tiny bedroom. Nothing happened yet between us at that point. On our way out of my apartment, as it was already becoming late as both of us had to work the next day, we were soon kissing each other on the lips and kept on doing so warmly and intensely. We promised to keep in touch as we exchanged contact numbers. We also kept on kissing each other on the lips as we also groped each other's bodies while waiting for the elevator to come to our floor. It was quick but indeed memorable.
That meeting led to more meetings between us and we would go out to watch Broadway shows together. I would call him the next day and would leave a message, which he returned as soon as he was able to do so. In due time, I was happy being introduced to Broadway culture by someone who moved to NYC precisely to live well and be in the very center of American culture. He would tell me that when he was still a young boy, he pointed out most clearly to his parents that he wanted to move and live in NYC. A Juilliard graduate, he's a musical composer and was then working with a non-profit organization. I would never know why but I would recall having revealed a lot about myself to him, including other stuff that I would now hesitate to share to my closest friends.
With guilt feelings over what I still have in my heart for someone I had lived with for at least 8 years back in the Philippines, I stepped out of my scared feelings and sought out warm company from someone I definitely liked receiving it from. It wasn't difficult to become so involved with him as he's a willing and tireless listener and possessed such a kind hearted personality that I couldn't believe I would meet in NYC. I would just wonder, though, that it was difficult to reach him every now and then. And I had the pleasure of learning that he's from the MidWest and he would go out of his way to interpret and explain the quirks of US culture to someone like me who transplanted himself in the US East Coast. He didn't really explain much, but went out of his way to show me examples so I would better undertand and appreciate better the ins and outs of US culture. For example, we were watching a movie on 'All About Eve' and he would let me watch and note how one of the actors would laugh on screen over hearing that someone's from Wisconsin. I didn't really the get idea at once, but I would later understand the implication, especially because he's from that state.
We went as well to nude yoga sessions, which he introduced to me by way of his invites to me to the nude yoga studio so he would have a ready partner to do certain yoga asanas together. We were in the studio for some sessions, and I would soon be entralled by the benefits of yoga, which I continue to engage into up to the time of this writing. Actually, I would stop for some time in engaging in yoga after he passed on. For awhile, I could not help but recall that he was the one who introduced me to yoga.
Probably, he quickly had an idea that I was then really a tyro in the city. And that he had a Filipino lover before, with whom he was involved with for some time until this guy moved to another state to get married. He would describe the guy to be a young fellow, someone reared up by his grandmother, an attractive Asian man, doing work in the medical field, with problems on pimples on his face, and one who introduced him to Filipino sentimental music and language. Through this boyfriend, he would also be introduced to samples of Filipino food, including pancit and lumpia. He didn't really relish, though, those sweets made from rice flour, I would remember him telling me about what he thought of those food stuff. I knew that he had loved this guy, which knowledge I learned from several conversations with him. I don't think they had been in touch during the last few years of my good friend's life.
He's the first person whom I've known up close and personal who admitted to me that he happened to be a bipolar, and that had to undergo weekly sessions with his therapist. I was taken aback somewhat upon learning this. But I heard early on from my other friends that NYC's full of people who have raging, emotional troubles. I learned about this on him only after over a year of going out with him. Learning that fact about him, I would be able to explain to myself why he would be unreachable from time to time (as in he would not even take my calls, although we had an understanding that we're more than friends).
I think I would still see him in one of those last nude massage meetings in Manhattan before these meetings ended because the long time organizer could not find a reasonably priced location where he could move the event. I didn't really think much about us unexpectedly seeing each other in one of these sessions, although we had been dating each other more often by then. But looking back, I would get surprised by the thought that I should have learned early on and would come handy when it comes to dating with men who were born and raised here in the US. It's important to see this kind of situation from the eyes of an Asian guy like myself who was born and raised back in the Philippines. It would have been a major source of a fight and an exchange of hastily hurled accusations if such a scene happened back in the Philippines between friends who behaved like they've been together and had been intimate with each other. Were we not sufficient for each other's particular needs such that we would still need to go out and find other means to meet them somewhere? I would continue to learn and keep on seeking more learning many other explanations on the dynamics, among other things, of my relationship with him.
He had the chance to sleep one time in my apartment up in Inwood when he had to meet up with his young wards from his job at a nearby school to a weekend culture event, and where he would bring some of them to some places in and out of NYC. I don't recall if we went to bed and had sex that night but we definitely kissed each other before going to sleep as I had to catch my sleep for an early work the next day. I left the apartment before him and left him still in bed that weekend. He would profusely thank me for that as it saved him a lot of travel time from his place in Jackson Heights. Also, I would remember him bringing a busload of his noisy, young and undisciplined wards to Hersheys, Pennsylvania, as well as to Toronto, Canada. He worked hard so that his wards would have the best exposure to works and events on culture and the arts. I once attended an annual musical event that he organized in one of those auditoriums close to the Central Park, where I saw him first hand doing his work for those children who needed to be exposed to the kind of culture that members of the upper elite society of NYC would normally have.
We were together that last night when his much-beloved Mom would breathe her last after a debilitating illness. I recall we watched a Broadway show, and it was a winter night. I would receive a text message from him the next day that he had to rush and get into a flight back to Wisconsin to be with the remains of his Mom who died of cancer. For some months over a period of time, we would meet in his apartment where I would share him my thoughts and the accounts of my own experience from having a Father who died due to lung cancer, which was the same disease that his Mom had.
He would encourage me to move again to Jackson Heights to the same apartment where I used to live, after I told him that I was invited again by my old landlord to consider moving again to the said apartment. He expressed a certain kind of happiness over the possibility that we would be neighbors again, and that we didn't really have to deal about distance (even if most places here in NYC can be reached by public transportation). I would study seriously and would consider to agree to his request but eventually, I would decide to move to another part of the NYC, which was in Chinatown, mainly because I wanted to explore the opportunity that would come with it. I would never know now if he took it personally that I decided against his request.
Looking back, I would have wanted to be more closer to him but he must have deliberately kept distance, mainly because of his sickness, his daily job demands, and his other personal concerns. There would be periods when we won't get in touch with each other, but we would always find ways to catch up with each other whenever certain critical events would happen in our respective lives. I would definitely learn that he would also meet other guys thru online means; I even saw his profile from time to time whenever I would check what had been happening in those sites. We would go out to bars together, drinking and dancing. And I would kiss him on the lips tenderly, and I would recall now that he must have been wondering why I was behaving like I was telling him that we should be more exclusive to each other. I now know that I was being mistaken. We just simply understood each other, and had recognized each other's roles in our respective lives. I know he would tell his therapist about me, too. And I never had the chance to ask him what his therapist had thought about me. Every time I would visit him in his apartment (or every time he would invite me over), we would end up being in bed together, which was almost always wonderful to me. I do hope he had occasions when enjoyed himself as well being with me, which I like to believe he did, as he would come most of the time he and I went to bed together. His queen size bed had satiny-like and very dark-colored, it must have been deep rose in color, sheets, and we must had been in that bed a minimum of at least 30 times. I would particularly remember him on his bed while sleeping in that darkened room, where the form of his body would glisten mainly because of his really pale, white skin.
I would learn much later after he passed on that I was one of the very few people he knew and whom he invited over to his place. One of his sisters knew that I was her brother's boyfriend, which she asked me upon meeting me at the funeral. Except for his relatives or probably those he met online and he had gone to bed with, he never invited people or his other closest friends to visit him in his apartment.
I was the one who convinced him to create a Facebook profile, which he did one evening I was in his place. I gave him instructions on how to go about it; I noticed how surprised and annoyed he was over seeing very familiar faces on Facebook, some of whom he'd rather would not even even deal with in the first place. I didn't really want to ask why as it's not my business. This Facebook profile is the only link I have of him in my social network that still reminds me strongly of a lot of experiences we shared together; I would notice that his profile pic has been removed by someone (most probably upon learning of his death).
Now, I can relate some probable reasons that prompted him to commit suicide. What precipitated the event was the prospect of losing a job that he loved at his last employer. He probably couldn't stand being unemployed again, given the situation of the economy then. He was being asked to teach children, but he definitely would not want to do that, even if he was doing coaching gigs for certain students of music. His direct boss, who talked too much that annoyed him endlessly, threw him into the lions' den, so to speak. During budgeting time, his position was sacrificed so that a more efficient structure in their group would come about following ideas from top ranking officers of the non-profit organization where he worked when I met him. It was a few days after his birthday, which period I would recall brought about heavy rains in NYC, when I would learn he committed suicide from a member of his family who called me at home earlier that grim day to inquire of the last time when got to talk to each other. My friend, during the last few days of his life, was unreachable by me, except for a single text message he sent me in reply to my calls and text messages (which was really nothing new, as he would do that to me, every now and then) -- he promised to be in touch (and I'd known he had been in touch with me, in his own special way, even if I knew from him that he didn't really believe in the afterlife). But I would always appreciate he made sure we'd go out together last time prior to his death; we watched a nice film somewhere in Chelsea; we went to a dinner and ended up having some bottles of beer together in a leather bar somewhere in the same district. Strangely, I would recall now during that last night that we were together that he wore the mien of death on his face, which I inadvertently ignored (who would have thought he'd take his own life? and who would like that to happen to him?).
One of the last few times we went to bed together, he would give me a good rimming, which I only allowed after I had to excuse myself so I could clean that part of me below my stomach and so I won't get embarrassed, just in case. He asked, "Is it that bad?" as we had to break after we had indulged in drinks and food that he prepared himself. I wondered why I had to answer and decided not to respond as I stepped out from his huge lounge chair to excuse myself to the bathroom set next to the wall upon which the chair was placed. After going back, what followed and happened between us was certainly so memorable as I recall having to ask him to fuck me, which he did and he used his fingers to penetrate me.
Open Relationships I've Kept, That Have Disappointed Me & Have Evolved in Time
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This accounts to the best of my recollection some of the details of a journey, among many, I had in this relationship that I supposed was an open relationship in most of its angles, and has been a loving, mutually respectful one at that. And I had this with someone whom I've considered to be a good friend and whom I've met the first time after he called me to come over to his place to give him a whole body massage, of the more sexual variety because something like it always happens in these kinds of transactions (with certain exceptions) when I still used to actively do massages (a set of skills I learned hands-on from having massaged at least 100 men when I was still attending men's nude massage events in Manhattan years ago), as a practical way to make ends meet during my first few years in New York City (NYC). Consider it, also, that a lot of the memories I have managed to recall and shared here could have been partly erroneous by the time I've managed to write them down here. Readers should beware, including those who may think they're cited here one way or another.
This friend responded to my postings then on Craigslist.org where I would offer my massage services as one of the viable ways to make a living by choosing deliberately not to do full time jobs and after I've stopped looking for job opportunities actively. Of course, these first few meetings between my friend and myself were far from the ideal and readers would normally have not-so-pleasing thoughts about such transactions and activities that happen all the time in a very normal business manner in major and big cities like NYC. The service I would provide him would end up with happy endings, and with him telling me and directing me even one time to just do what I wanted to do (most probably so that I could have fun as well and not merely doing some paid service). And I would always remember him because I like the way he looks, being tall, hairy and lean, and even if he's not at all a looker if compared with the most physically good-looking guys I've met and seen here in NYC todate. In this special case, the looks would have not mattered at all. It's been his interesting character that's always curious for something about knowing more of other cultures.
During one of those conversations as we went about the usual procedures during these massage sessions, I also remember that he would open up about his failed relationship with another Filipino guy whom he has met and fallen in love with when they were still much younger (I'm assuming here that he has really fallen deeply in love with that guy, which I could not confirm first hand because I never had the chance to meet with that guy). Eventually, as we became lovers as well, I would actually tease him about this other Filipino guy that "he is your other lover." At the risk of revealing very private information that does not necessarily have to be shared unwittingly to others but should remain extremely private, I'm still taking the chance to share them here. And in the process of doing so, enable myself to move on from these sets of memories I have on loving, sad, fulfilling and devastating experiences I had shared with this interesting fellow. Also, the point of sharing this story is for myself to continue learning from those experiences and become a better person in the process, if I happened to find myself in similar situations. I know I'll keep on loving as long as I am living, and I'll be meeting so many other people who would find themselves in the same pathway as I am now. And I've taken the opportunity to share these recollections here as I don't have any idea if something like this will ever happen to me again.
After those massage calls that would happen every now and then, I would come and meet again this fellow in a gathering of a group in one of those rooms at the LGBT Center in Manhattan. Doing some kind of a volunteer service to the group, he was then out of job, after having been fired from his job where he probably stayed for many years. When I approached him, he certainly would give me a nice smile, with bright and curious eyes, and remember me. And we would start dating constantly after that meeting where we made sure we exchanged contact numbers. I remember I gave him my business card, and I would see that businesscard on his dining table the next time I was invited to his place. In the following meetings, we would meet up in coffeeshops and at the LGBT Center, and would often end up in his apartment and in engaging in the most physical and intimate activities we could do with each other. I would figure out how to deal with him as a lover, considering that I still have a long term relationship with a partner based in the Philippines, which relationship's been in the hanging situation mainly because he won't consider moving here in the USA. The meetings my friend and I had were really most pleasurable as far I was concerned ---I do hope he enjoyed himself that much, too. And I would recall how those sexual encounters that took place between us would stop eventually for some uncertain reasons that would confound me for some time. And still, I persisted in keeping a space for him in my heart, mainly because I like him really as a person.
Except on certain occasions during this open relationship that must have lasted for nearly two years or so, our conversations have always been mostly fun, mostly honest, engaging and very interesting. I think I made the terrible mistake of having not clarified nor talked with him about my understanding that we were having an open relationship, a sort of a no-strings-attached set-up. In fact, I would remember the many times that he had to remind me that I had been keeping him too long on the phone as I would usually be motivated to just tell him whatever was coming out my mind, details on whatever was happening in my life, whenever we engage in phone talks. Both of us being essentially well-read, outgoing and always curious, we would cover a range of topics, including politics, travel, cultures, business, finance, relationships, sex, among others. I would even tell one very good friend of mine that this fellow has remained being very interesting to me essentially because we could talk and cover a lot of topics in our conversations.
And my ex-lover said once in one of those earliest meetings we had after we saw each other at the LGBT Center: "I have to learn to invite you to come over to my place, or else nothing else will really happen at all," as he would take the risk of inviting me over to his place, and gain the confidence by practicing what other experts have been advising others when it comes to dating and meeting new people. He must have realized sooner or later that he has to learn so much from developing relationships himself so that he'd grow as a person. That also means he's realizing, just like me one time or another, that anything worthy has to be asked for and it won't come to you at all unless it's being asked to come for you to grab, hold or keep. From this meeting on, I would learn to start accepting him as he really was as a person then and someone I've come to know better for a few years as of this writing. Just like me, I've learned that he's really a complex guy as I would go out of my way to appreciate and accept someone who's trying to make a significant living here in NYC, where you could easily meet anyone anytime just like having pleasant-to-look-at eye-candies before so many storefronts all over the city.
Among other interests he's got and been actively pursuing, he's a devoted nudist, which didn't really matter to me personally. I would also learn he's also not that keen to work harder than needed as he has other personal interests to pursue; he probably would like to keep his energy intact for other activities than doing the work that he needs to do today on a 9-5 work schedule and typical among full time job holders. I'd learned from him and would be reminded constantly that a job serves a certain practical purpose from the way he would tell me that he'd 'regretfully' go to work the next day. I would usually disagree with him on this approach but would soon accept it as his way of dealing with the nature and value of work in a society like that found in the East Coast of the USA. I usually won't look at my paid jobs in the manner that he looks at his job, as I've seen having jobs as an important ingredient in accomplishing the goals I've set in my life. Paid work has to be seen something fulfilling and sacred if you will, with the way I look at it after having done many years of Human Resources related work. He's got that very practical outlook when it comes to doing jobs, which I must have soon acquired as I've continued looking at how I make a living here in NYC. Nothing really personal exists when it comes to dealing with jobs for most people here in NYC, not even sentimental notions. You're just taken as a cog so that the complex economic processes of supply and demand would continue moving forward and be constantly oiled to meet the needs and wants of those who are in and around the market.
A few months after we met, he finally got a job, which he took as he saw it as his chance again to do paid work. I would remember his anxiety over accepting this job with a European-owned company somewhere in Wall Street. He was complaining that he had to acquiesce to a big pay cut so that he could get a paid job soonest. Looking at him seated on his dining chair, I saw him being really anxious as he continued to explain his situation to me, which I would have not done to anybody close to me as such, as such level of anxiety I had seen often during job interviews during my career doing Human Resources work.
He would not last long in that job mainly because he was not getting paid that well according to his standards and was doing a job that he didn't really care much about. Also, he's getting anxious over not being able to earn well the way he used to have, which situation can always be difficult to most about anyone. But I would always remember him as one of those who's able to save and invest his earnings, which I would admire about him. He confidently told me that can manage to live off from the earnings of his investments even for a year or so of being unemployed. And that's one of the things that makes him a very desirable, prospective long term partner, which I do hope I can always emulate, become one and do much better in my own terms. Of course, I didn't see any actual figures on these incomes he's been paid for. But I've seen how he's bought and invested in an apartment in Queens, how he has kept a nice car, and how he leads the life he wants to pursue. I would take time to encourage him in his life situation then and be supportive of his efforts, which I hope he recognized. He would be moving to another job as soon as he got the next better chance to do so, which I know has made him a lot happier as a person.
Without me telling too many unwanted details here other than those I've already accounted so far, I would hear bad things from him about how he thought of me during one occasion. He would soon realize that I was in a much more poorer economic condition than he was; I would remember him telling me a lot of very revealing thoughts he had of me one time we met at the Grand Central Station with him being so drunk after a meeting with one of his friends and one of those weekend events he loved going to. I don't know nor remember if he let me bring him to his apartment that night. But I would tell him the next day that I heard certain things from him that I would rather not learn about from him, and he must have realized what he had done and would apologize to me in his usual kind, sincere manner. I've forgiven him for the slurs. But in the course of the relationship, I gradually realized how he really values the role of money in leading the kind of life you desire for yourself and in being able to earn a living in a more regular way that most people around would continue doing in a much changed world in this part of the USA.
I could have taken those points seriously to heart and learned to realize sooner that he would really have a hard time understanding and appreciating my efforts to lead a more creative and entrepreneurial life. But, apparently, I haven't and was foolish enough to consider being in what I figured out to be a loving relationship with him. And that's mainly because he has other wonderful qualities as a person. In having worked full time in the corporate world doing mainly Human Resources work that entails keeping so many critical information confidential, I'd learn to keep most things about my finances to myself and would never tell him much about how I make a living here in NYC, mainly because I know those details would bother him especially if they're not really positive as he would expect them to be. I think he has strong and well founded ideas about how I had been coping with daily in my own life but he won't go out of his way to ask me about them. I now realize that the effects of that approach I took could have been one of those strong reasons why he would eventually lose interest in pursuing a long-term, a more significant relationship with me, or in working together with me to bring the relationship on a higher level.
The relationship, without myself clarifying details to more appropriately describe it (as they would be very revealing and would unnecessarily bring about bad memories to all parties concerned here), was open in so many ways than one, without us talking and agreeing about it. I know he would go to nude events anywhere in the city; he was open to the idea of myself attending such events but I chose not to do so. Those events are not at all cheap and he told me nothing explicitly sexual happens there, which I will have to probably verify one of these days. I like to believe these meetings involving naked men are not even erotic. It's one of those meet ups where guys could relate with each other without their usual clothes on, and I can imagine such events can be mentally and emotionally liberating. I think what he said to me was true because I had another good friend who showed up one time in one of those regular events but he was asked not to come back again as he started having sex with someone, which prompted others to join them and be engaged in group sex.
I would also learn that my ex-lover would go to nudist camps by himself or with his friends. I didn't really think much about these events even if he told me one time that he'd fooled around with someone in one of those many occasions that he was in the camp, which almost always happen during the summer. And I know that he could have been getting in touch with other guys through Craigslist and would ask them to give him massages or something else for a fee. I would remember also that he told me once that I was actually "doing a good job providing massages," which I took more as a compliment than anything else. I would never know if he would tell our other common friends and acquaintances about the fact that we first met each other in a commercial massage-providing situation. And I know, just like what he knows very well about me when it comes to this common habit we share, that he watches porn whenever he's got the chance. I remember that he would have wanted both of us to video some of those sexual activities that we used to do together, but which I haven't have the motivation to agree and do so. The actual sex stopped soon even before I was ready to be inspired to allow myself to be pictured while engaged in sex. As such, given all these details, both of us can't really accuse each other of infidelity as such won't hold water and would make each of us look stupid and ridiculous.
We probably lost our common pathway together as lovers from the accumulation of setbacks and disappointments that we would experience during times when we were together and during periods when would not keep in touch with each other. Among many other issues, I think I'm guilty of having failed to keep regular contact with him, which he must have taken badly especially during a conversation with another friend where I blurted out that I "don't really go out of my way to call people because I'm usually busy." I realize that he has been trying to understand and know me better but those occasions where he could gather more significant facts about me would happen during meetings and conversations with other friends around. I would not really know if he was actively looking for ways for us to be together more often because I never asked to be clarified about such issues with him. He probably thought and have felt I was taking him for granted. I probably have given him the wrong impression that he could freely do his own thing, pursue his life and basically leave me alone with my life, and for both of us to just go about with the open relationship that we were having. And that we would continue until something more significant takes place along the way, which would eventually do.
I know he told me months before I finally understood that I've lost him after he said something about that regular dating he's been having with another guy, which I would learn from him over the phone. Now I would recall a number of phonetalks that we had that I should have paid more attention to but I miserably ignored and failed. I heard him tell me about how he's getting scared listening to what that other guy was telling him about their growing relationship, which to him sounded very serious. And I just kept mum about a lot of things I had in mind during that particular talk and I actually ignored much of it. I was thinking I still have him as a lover, mainly because of the open relationship set up we had (which, again, we didn't really talk and agree about; I would just understand the relationship as such). And I was thinking it's one of those things that normally happen between lovers or probably I was then being concerned at the back of my mind about so many other priorities in my list.
One Saturday, I would join him and another friend at the Eagle's Bar in Manhattan. He has told me about the bar before in one of our phone conversations; I had been there one time during some Folsom-related events in the East Coast. He even told me about how he was there one time wearing his leather harness, probably cruising around, but he got so drunk and was soon disappointed the next day over how he behaved himself. During that Saturday when we were there, we were fooling with and around others who were roaming and walking in the enclosed cruising area. But later in the evening, I remember feeling his hands touching me in ways I recognized were tender, foolish, loving and caressing, which were exactly want I needed from him and I knew he has always known of my desires because I've always told him about those thoughts every time we were in bed together. We would also kiss each other on the lips, but I would remember they were somewhat different from the kissing situations we've had before. He wasn't really massaging me at all at those parts where his hands landed on the back of my body. Gleefully, I felt we were flirting again with each other, which we have not done so for some time then. He would do that at least 4 times during that night. I took those signs as if he's inviting me again to come to his bed again and enjoy ourselves together, but which I never had the chance to tell him personally. I recall he was also drunk then, which was the same case with me. We would never talk about it in the succeeding meetings we had. And I would be having difficulties recovering from the pleasure of recollecting how I had enjoyed the wonderful, positive feelings during that night, even if I was drunk myself. I would remember them precisely because I felt so good and was wondering about their significance to myself, and was always trying to drown myself from my life pains by imbibing in alcohol. I also remember the many times when my ex-lover and I would talk on the phone about times when we were away from each other and would get drunk with others. He knew I would get drunk especially when I would go out with friends who would invite me over to their places. And he would reveal to me as well those times when he would get drunk himself. I have failed to realize how lonely our respective lives must have been, even if we would continue being with others.
Gradually, I have been realizing a lot of truths and untruths about this failed relationship I had with this ex-lover who I like to believe will remain to be one of my best friends for the rest of my life, even if he made me feel so devastated one time. I would go on many hours when I was up and about and doing a lot of thinking about what went wrong that had led to the termination of the relationship. Of course, the main reason was that he had been dating someone regularly for the past months so there's really no point in keeping my presence around him whenever he's in search for something that he believes his current lover could provide him. I can only wish for the best for both of them. In the meantime, I've continued to move on with my life and its so many wonderful possibilities.
He's got in own brand of sweetness and so many acts of kindness that he's displayed to me often times, and which I must have ignored and have taken for granted for the most part (because I was so serious with my own concerns in life). He would give me a birthday card on my birthday the first year we were together, and which surprised me so much as he inscribed it in his unique, personal way. He would probably say giving a birthday card is really much at all. He would remind me to constantly be safe in our practices especially when it comes to doing anal positions while in bed together. He would buy my book without me asking him to get a copy for himself, and he would find time to read it, which he could have spent on his other interests. And he would even give me the favor of writing a brief review on it on Amazon.com; I'm actually very surprised but very grateful that he has done all these bothersome, time consuming tasks for me. Among many other things he has done for me, he would also offer his help every time I tell him about some projects I'm working on. He would even offer to drive his car and make use of it to move stuff I've been accumulating in my place. During those periods when I would still get to sleep over in his place, he would bother to get up and provide for coffee, orange juice or some other food items that I could have before I go out of his place and venture to complete my activities for the day. He would even bother to collect books he'd seen being thrown away by other tenants in his apartment building; he would give me the books he's decided he'd like to get rid off. He'd even keep and give me copies of magazines that I told him would still get sold through the online storefronts that I've been growing and making very good business from.
He would even invite me to join him in his nude events out of town, which I would not bother to accept mainly because I couldn't afford them or I was doing some part-time jobs. He would even find ways to watch plays and stage shows with me because he understood that I like watching those types of shows; I would remember watching at least 3 live shows with him in different locations in the city. He would also consider doing dancing with me as soon as I got myself active in square dancing, which he thought he could also do. He would introduce me to several of his friends, which efforts on his part I have come to really appreciate. During an outdoor trip, he would even tell me that I should have kept him up by waking him up during that very cold night when I was unable to sleep due to the seething freezing conditions inside that tent and because I was stupid enough not to bring my own sleeping bag somewhere in the middle of New Jersey. He would even join me in watching the annual Ms. Universe Pageant shows on TV with other friends for two years on a row; I could see that he was really enjoying himself being with me during these occasions. I would really appreciate the wonderful feelings he made me feel during the period when we're together more as lovers than friends.
I've come to realize, too, that he could have considered getting into a regular dating set-up with me mainly because I'm also a Filipino like that guy whom he has fallen in love with for so long. Most likely, he would fall for that guy with such intensity that he would even visit the Philippines at least twice with him. I would recall how he would share me some details about that other Filipino guy during sessions when I would show up to give him massages. But the relationship between them probably went cold again and I like to believe that they have not been in touch again for some period of time as of this writing. Who would really know? I don't think it's my business to ask about details on their relationship, which is the same attitude I have about my ex-lover's current and constant date and companion these days. It's really out of my business, and I won't be asking for those details at all unless he opens up about those things with me one of these days.
I'm grateful for his candidness toward me when I asked him during that phone talk about why he won't invite me anymore to come over and for us to be intimate again. He would tell me that he's been dating someone regularly and so there would be no need for him to invite me. I was taken aback somewhat and would linger for some time in the hurt feelings I had upon hearing those words. He was in a way telling me in his own way that I no longer was good enough for him, such that he won't even consider getting both of us on a date and probably do something more intimate together. I would begin to understand why he won't respond as much as I wanted him to be interested in me whenever I would tell him that I've been missing him (he would say one time that it's because we've not been seeing each other as we used to do just like months before). I tried to redirect the intensity of the feelings I had upon hearing from him as he would tell me those words by making use of what I thought about the annoying feelings I was having over the Mainstream Plus Dance lessons we were both into earlier that particular night. He's not really into me anymore, and that's going to be the case until the next time we both decide that we could go on dating and becoming intimate with each other again on some other occasion. Who would really know?
And I would always cherish his presence in my life especially because he made me believe that I could go back to falling in love again and being comfortable with the thought, after having been away from something similar with someone who's decided he can't be following me here in the USA. I had a rather similar experience when another friend and I were in an intimate, a-sort-of-an-open relationship until this particular fellow committed suicide; his sudden, unexpected death totally knocked me out of my usual happy wits and well established beliefs about the value of preserving one's life as long as possible. But with this particular ex-lover, I had experienced being bluntly turned away, the effects of which I had to deal with shamefacedly in the next few instances that we would meet again as we were going to some common events with other friends. He would still treat me in his own sweet way but I knew he'd been relieved to have finally got rid of me, at least in more affectionate and intimate terms. This ex-lover probably would still remember that I have this relationship that is technically more on hold than real all these past years that I've been here in NYC. Don is still in the Philippines and I doubt if he would ever consider getting a US visa so he could visit me here. I have a feeling that we'll get to see each other again as soon as I decide to visit the Philippines. The relationship between Don and myself has not been moving forward and is frozen somewhere in the frigid clouds up in the atmosphere as we're physically separated by thousands of miles in distance.
I like to believe that this ex-lover of mine took the effort to accept me as to who I was then and must have over-extended himself in the process after getting to know me better in time. I wasn't turning into someone he wanted me to be, in so many ways than one. And I believe he's always known about those things I get into myself every time I meet out with people, as I'm basically happy when I'm with other people. He couldn't confront me about them mainly because he, probably, would prefer not to know about them, unless I volunteer to tell him about them. He's told me "it's really up to you, Jerome" when I was askingme him if he wanted to know about those people I've been involved with. I would realize that he would turn out to be not bothered at all by my getting intimately involved with others by the time we had that very significant phone talk. He must have had his fill of me when we were still together as lovers. I just wonder but still am excited now on how we'll go about being very good friends together in the long term, if we get to something like that in time. Let's see how the directions of life will lead us to. Let's all move on now.
This accounts to the best of my recollection some of the details of a journey, among many, I had in this relationship that I supposed was an open relationship in most of its angles, and has been a loving, mutually respectful one at that. And I had this with someone whom I've considered to be a good friend and whom I've met the first time after he called me to come over to his place to give him a whole body massage, of the more sexual variety because something like it always happens in these kinds of transactions (with certain exceptions) when I still used to actively do massages (a set of skills I learned hands-on from having massaged at least 100 men when I was still attending men's nude massage events in Manhattan years ago), as a practical way to make ends meet during my first few years in New York City (NYC). Consider it, also, that a lot of the memories I have managed to recall and shared here could have been partly erroneous by the time I've managed to write them down here. Readers should beware, including those who may think they're cited here one way or another.
This friend responded to my postings then on Craigslist.org where I would offer my massage services as one of the viable ways to make a living by choosing deliberately not to do full time jobs and after I've stopped looking for job opportunities actively. Of course, these first few meetings between my friend and myself were far from the ideal and readers would normally have not-so-pleasing thoughts about such transactions and activities that happen all the time in a very normal business manner in major and big cities like NYC. The service I would provide him would end up with happy endings, and with him telling me and directing me even one time to just do what I wanted to do (most probably so that I could have fun as well and not merely doing some paid service). And I would always remember him because I like the way he looks, being tall, hairy and lean, and even if he's not at all a looker if compared with the most physically good-looking guys I've met and seen here in NYC todate. In this special case, the looks would have not mattered at all. It's been his interesting character that's always curious for something about knowing more of other cultures.
During one of those conversations as we went about the usual procedures during these massage sessions, I also remember that he would open up about his failed relationship with another Filipino guy whom he has met and fallen in love with when they were still much younger (I'm assuming here that he has really fallen deeply in love with that guy, which I could not confirm first hand because I never had the chance to meet with that guy). Eventually, as we became lovers as well, I would actually tease him about this other Filipino guy that "he is your other lover." At the risk of revealing very private information that does not necessarily have to be shared unwittingly to others but should remain extremely private, I'm still taking the chance to share them here. And in the process of doing so, enable myself to move on from these sets of memories I have on loving, sad, fulfilling and devastating experiences I had shared with this interesting fellow. Also, the point of sharing this story is for myself to continue learning from those experiences and become a better person in the process, if I happened to find myself in similar situations. I know I'll keep on loving as long as I am living, and I'll be meeting so many other people who would find themselves in the same pathway as I am now. And I've taken the opportunity to share these recollections here as I don't have any idea if something like this will ever happen to me again.
After those massage calls that would happen every now and then, I would come and meet again this fellow in a gathering of a group in one of those rooms at the LGBT Center in Manhattan. Doing some kind of a volunteer service to the group, he was then out of job, after having been fired from his job where he probably stayed for many years. When I approached him, he certainly would give me a nice smile, with bright and curious eyes, and remember me. And we would start dating constantly after that meeting where we made sure we exchanged contact numbers. I remember I gave him my business card, and I would see that businesscard on his dining table the next time I was invited to his place. In the following meetings, we would meet up in coffeeshops and at the LGBT Center, and would often end up in his apartment and in engaging in the most physical and intimate activities we could do with each other. I would figure out how to deal with him as a lover, considering that I still have a long term relationship with a partner based in the Philippines, which relationship's been in the hanging situation mainly because he won't consider moving here in the USA. The meetings my friend and I had were really most pleasurable as far I was concerned ---I do hope he enjoyed himself that much, too. And I would recall how those sexual encounters that took place between us would stop eventually for some uncertain reasons that would confound me for some time. And still, I persisted in keeping a space for him in my heart, mainly because I like him really as a person.
Except on certain occasions during this open relationship that must have lasted for nearly two years or so, our conversations have always been mostly fun, mostly honest, engaging and very interesting. I think I made the terrible mistake of having not clarified nor talked with him about my understanding that we were having an open relationship, a sort of a no-strings-attached set-up. In fact, I would remember the many times that he had to remind me that I had been keeping him too long on the phone as I would usually be motivated to just tell him whatever was coming out my mind, details on whatever was happening in my life, whenever we engage in phone talks. Both of us being essentially well-read, outgoing and always curious, we would cover a range of topics, including politics, travel, cultures, business, finance, relationships, sex, among others. I would even tell one very good friend of mine that this fellow has remained being very interesting to me essentially because we could talk and cover a lot of topics in our conversations.
And my ex-lover said once in one of those earliest meetings we had after we saw each other at the LGBT Center: "I have to learn to invite you to come over to my place, or else nothing else will really happen at all," as he would take the risk of inviting me over to his place, and gain the confidence by practicing what other experts have been advising others when it comes to dating and meeting new people. He must have realized sooner or later that he has to learn so much from developing relationships himself so that he'd grow as a person. That also means he's realizing, just like me one time or another, that anything worthy has to be asked for and it won't come to you at all unless it's being asked to come for you to grab, hold or keep. From this meeting on, I would learn to start accepting him as he really was as a person then and someone I've come to know better for a few years as of this writing. Just like me, I've learned that he's really a complex guy as I would go out of my way to appreciate and accept someone who's trying to make a significant living here in NYC, where you could easily meet anyone anytime just like having pleasant-to-look-at eye-candies before so many storefronts all over the city.
Among other interests he's got and been actively pursuing, he's a devoted nudist, which didn't really matter to me personally. I would also learn he's also not that keen to work harder than needed as he has other personal interests to pursue; he probably would like to keep his energy intact for other activities than doing the work that he needs to do today on a 9-5 work schedule and typical among full time job holders. I'd learned from him and would be reminded constantly that a job serves a certain practical purpose from the way he would tell me that he'd 'regretfully' go to work the next day. I would usually disagree with him on this approach but would soon accept it as his way of dealing with the nature and value of work in a society like that found in the East Coast of the USA. I usually won't look at my paid jobs in the manner that he looks at his job, as I've seen having jobs as an important ingredient in accomplishing the goals I've set in my life. Paid work has to be seen something fulfilling and sacred if you will, with the way I look at it after having done many years of Human Resources related work. He's got that very practical outlook when it comes to doing jobs, which I must have soon acquired as I've continued looking at how I make a living here in NYC. Nothing really personal exists when it comes to dealing with jobs for most people here in NYC, not even sentimental notions. You're just taken as a cog so that the complex economic processes of supply and demand would continue moving forward and be constantly oiled to meet the needs and wants of those who are in and around the market.
A few months after we met, he finally got a job, which he took as he saw it as his chance again to do paid work. I would remember his anxiety over accepting this job with a European-owned company somewhere in Wall Street. He was complaining that he had to acquiesce to a big pay cut so that he could get a paid job soonest. Looking at him seated on his dining chair, I saw him being really anxious as he continued to explain his situation to me, which I would have not done to anybody close to me as such, as such level of anxiety I had seen often during job interviews during my career doing Human Resources work.
He would not last long in that job mainly because he was not getting paid that well according to his standards and was doing a job that he didn't really care much about. Also, he's getting anxious over not being able to earn well the way he used to have, which situation can always be difficult to most about anyone. But I would always remember him as one of those who's able to save and invest his earnings, which I would admire about him. He confidently told me that can manage to live off from the earnings of his investments even for a year or so of being unemployed. And that's one of the things that makes him a very desirable, prospective long term partner, which I do hope I can always emulate, become one and do much better in my own terms. Of course, I didn't see any actual figures on these incomes he's been paid for. But I've seen how he's bought and invested in an apartment in Queens, how he has kept a nice car, and how he leads the life he wants to pursue. I would take time to encourage him in his life situation then and be supportive of his efforts, which I hope he recognized. He would be moving to another job as soon as he got the next better chance to do so, which I know has made him a lot happier as a person.
Without me telling too many unwanted details here other than those I've already accounted so far, I would hear bad things from him about how he thought of me during one occasion. He would soon realize that I was in a much more poorer economic condition than he was; I would remember him telling me a lot of very revealing thoughts he had of me one time we met at the Grand Central Station with him being so drunk after a meeting with one of his friends and one of those weekend events he loved going to. I don't know nor remember if he let me bring him to his apartment that night. But I would tell him the next day that I heard certain things from him that I would rather not learn about from him, and he must have realized what he had done and would apologize to me in his usual kind, sincere manner. I've forgiven him for the slurs. But in the course of the relationship, I gradually realized how he really values the role of money in leading the kind of life you desire for yourself and in being able to earn a living in a more regular way that most people around would continue doing in a much changed world in this part of the USA.
I could have taken those points seriously to heart and learned to realize sooner that he would really have a hard time understanding and appreciating my efforts to lead a more creative and entrepreneurial life. But, apparently, I haven't and was foolish enough to consider being in what I figured out to be a loving relationship with him. And that's mainly because he has other wonderful qualities as a person. In having worked full time in the corporate world doing mainly Human Resources work that entails keeping so many critical information confidential, I'd learn to keep most things about my finances to myself and would never tell him much about how I make a living here in NYC, mainly because I know those details would bother him especially if they're not really positive as he would expect them to be. I think he has strong and well founded ideas about how I had been coping with daily in my own life but he won't go out of his way to ask me about them. I now realize that the effects of that approach I took could have been one of those strong reasons why he would eventually lose interest in pursuing a long-term, a more significant relationship with me, or in working together with me to bring the relationship on a higher level.
The relationship, without myself clarifying details to more appropriately describe it (as they would be very revealing and would unnecessarily bring about bad memories to all parties concerned here), was open in so many ways than one, without us talking and agreeing about it. I know he would go to nude events anywhere in the city; he was open to the idea of myself attending such events but I chose not to do so. Those events are not at all cheap and he told me nothing explicitly sexual happens there, which I will have to probably verify one of these days. I like to believe these meetings involving naked men are not even erotic. It's one of those meet ups where guys could relate with each other without their usual clothes on, and I can imagine such events can be mentally and emotionally liberating. I think what he said to me was true because I had another good friend who showed up one time in one of those regular events but he was asked not to come back again as he started having sex with someone, which prompted others to join them and be engaged in group sex.
I would also learn that my ex-lover would go to nudist camps by himself or with his friends. I didn't really think much about these events even if he told me one time that he'd fooled around with someone in one of those many occasions that he was in the camp, which almost always happen during the summer. And I know that he could have been getting in touch with other guys through Craigslist and would ask them to give him massages or something else for a fee. I would remember also that he told me once that I was actually "doing a good job providing massages," which I took more as a compliment than anything else. I would never know if he would tell our other common friends and acquaintances about the fact that we first met each other in a commercial massage-providing situation. And I know, just like what he knows very well about me when it comes to this common habit we share, that he watches porn whenever he's got the chance. I remember that he would have wanted both of us to video some of those sexual activities that we used to do together, but which I haven't have the motivation to agree and do so. The actual sex stopped soon even before I was ready to be inspired to allow myself to be pictured while engaged in sex. As such, given all these details, both of us can't really accuse each other of infidelity as such won't hold water and would make each of us look stupid and ridiculous.
We probably lost our common pathway together as lovers from the accumulation of setbacks and disappointments that we would experience during times when we were together and during periods when would not keep in touch with each other. Among many other issues, I think I'm guilty of having failed to keep regular contact with him, which he must have taken badly especially during a conversation with another friend where I blurted out that I "don't really go out of my way to call people because I'm usually busy." I realize that he has been trying to understand and know me better but those occasions where he could gather more significant facts about me would happen during meetings and conversations with other friends around. I would not really know if he was actively looking for ways for us to be together more often because I never asked to be clarified about such issues with him. He probably thought and have felt I was taking him for granted. I probably have given him the wrong impression that he could freely do his own thing, pursue his life and basically leave me alone with my life, and for both of us to just go about with the open relationship that we were having. And that we would continue until something more significant takes place along the way, which would eventually do.
I know he told me months before I finally understood that I've lost him after he said something about that regular dating he's been having with another guy, which I would learn from him over the phone. Now I would recall a number of phonetalks that we had that I should have paid more attention to but I miserably ignored and failed. I heard him tell me about how he's getting scared listening to what that other guy was telling him about their growing relationship, which to him sounded very serious. And I just kept mum about a lot of things I had in mind during that particular talk and I actually ignored much of it. I was thinking I still have him as a lover, mainly because of the open relationship set up we had (which, again, we didn't really talk and agree about; I would just understand the relationship as such). And I was thinking it's one of those things that normally happen between lovers or probably I was then being concerned at the back of my mind about so many other priorities in my list.
One Saturday, I would join him and another friend at the Eagle's Bar in Manhattan. He has told me about the bar before in one of our phone conversations; I had been there one time during some Folsom-related events in the East Coast. He even told me about how he was there one time wearing his leather harness, probably cruising around, but he got so drunk and was soon disappointed the next day over how he behaved himself. During that Saturday when we were there, we were fooling with and around others who were roaming and walking in the enclosed cruising area. But later in the evening, I remember feeling his hands touching me in ways I recognized were tender, foolish, loving and caressing, which were exactly want I needed from him and I knew he has always known of my desires because I've always told him about those thoughts every time we were in bed together. We would also kiss each other on the lips, but I would remember they were somewhat different from the kissing situations we've had before. He wasn't really massaging me at all at those parts where his hands landed on the back of my body. Gleefully, I felt we were flirting again with each other, which we have not done so for some time then. He would do that at least 4 times during that night. I took those signs as if he's inviting me again to come to his bed again and enjoy ourselves together, but which I never had the chance to tell him personally. I recall he was also drunk then, which was the same case with me. We would never talk about it in the succeeding meetings we had. And I would be having difficulties recovering from the pleasure of recollecting how I had enjoyed the wonderful, positive feelings during that night, even if I was drunk myself. I would remember them precisely because I felt so good and was wondering about their significance to myself, and was always trying to drown myself from my life pains by imbibing in alcohol. I also remember the many times when my ex-lover and I would talk on the phone about times when we were away from each other and would get drunk with others. He knew I would get drunk especially when I would go out with friends who would invite me over to their places. And he would reveal to me as well those times when he would get drunk himself. I have failed to realize how lonely our respective lives must have been, even if we would continue being with others.
Gradually, I have been realizing a lot of truths and untruths about this failed relationship I had with this ex-lover who I like to believe will remain to be one of my best friends for the rest of my life, even if he made me feel so devastated one time. I would go on many hours when I was up and about and doing a lot of thinking about what went wrong that had led to the termination of the relationship. Of course, the main reason was that he had been dating someone regularly for the past months so there's really no point in keeping my presence around him whenever he's in search for something that he believes his current lover could provide him. I can only wish for the best for both of them. In the meantime, I've continued to move on with my life and its so many wonderful possibilities.
He's got in own brand of sweetness and so many acts of kindness that he's displayed to me often times, and which I must have ignored and have taken for granted for the most part (because I was so serious with my own concerns in life). He would give me a birthday card on my birthday the first year we were together, and which surprised me so much as he inscribed it in his unique, personal way. He would probably say giving a birthday card is really much at all. He would remind me to constantly be safe in our practices especially when it comes to doing anal positions while in bed together. He would buy my book without me asking him to get a copy for himself, and he would find time to read it, which he could have spent on his other interests. And he would even give me the favor of writing a brief review on it on Amazon.com; I'm actually very surprised but very grateful that he has done all these bothersome, time consuming tasks for me. Among many other things he has done for me, he would also offer his help every time I tell him about some projects I'm working on. He would even offer to drive his car and make use of it to move stuff I've been accumulating in my place. During those periods when I would still get to sleep over in his place, he would bother to get up and provide for coffee, orange juice or some other food items that I could have before I go out of his place and venture to complete my activities for the day. He would even bother to collect books he'd seen being thrown away by other tenants in his apartment building; he would give me the books he's decided he'd like to get rid off. He'd even keep and give me copies of magazines that I told him would still get sold through the online storefronts that I've been growing and making very good business from.
He would even invite me to join him in his nude events out of town, which I would not bother to accept mainly because I couldn't afford them or I was doing some part-time jobs. He would even find ways to watch plays and stage shows with me because he understood that I like watching those types of shows; I would remember watching at least 3 live shows with him in different locations in the city. He would also consider doing dancing with me as soon as I got myself active in square dancing, which he thought he could also do. He would introduce me to several of his friends, which efforts on his part I have come to really appreciate. During an outdoor trip, he would even tell me that I should have kept him up by waking him up during that very cold night when I was unable to sleep due to the seething freezing conditions inside that tent and because I was stupid enough not to bring my own sleeping bag somewhere in the middle of New Jersey. He would even join me in watching the annual Ms. Universe Pageant shows on TV with other friends for two years on a row; I could see that he was really enjoying himself being with me during these occasions. I would really appreciate the wonderful feelings he made me feel during the period when we're together more as lovers than friends.
I've come to realize, too, that he could have considered getting into a regular dating set-up with me mainly because I'm also a Filipino like that guy whom he has fallen in love with for so long. Most likely, he would fall for that guy with such intensity that he would even visit the Philippines at least twice with him. I would recall how he would share me some details about that other Filipino guy during sessions when I would show up to give him massages. But the relationship between them probably went cold again and I like to believe that they have not been in touch again for some period of time as of this writing. Who would really know? I don't think it's my business to ask about details on their relationship, which is the same attitude I have about my ex-lover's current and constant date and companion these days. It's really out of my business, and I won't be asking for those details at all unless he opens up about those things with me one of these days.
I'm grateful for his candidness toward me when I asked him during that phone talk about why he won't invite me anymore to come over and for us to be intimate again. He would tell me that he's been dating someone regularly and so there would be no need for him to invite me. I was taken aback somewhat and would linger for some time in the hurt feelings I had upon hearing those words. He was in a way telling me in his own way that I no longer was good enough for him, such that he won't even consider getting both of us on a date and probably do something more intimate together. I would begin to understand why he won't respond as much as I wanted him to be interested in me whenever I would tell him that I've been missing him (he would say one time that it's because we've not been seeing each other as we used to do just like months before). I tried to redirect the intensity of the feelings I had upon hearing from him as he would tell me those words by making use of what I thought about the annoying feelings I was having over the Mainstream Plus Dance lessons we were both into earlier that particular night. He's not really into me anymore, and that's going to be the case until the next time we both decide that we could go on dating and becoming intimate with each other again on some other occasion. Who would really know?
And I would always cherish his presence in my life especially because he made me believe that I could go back to falling in love again and being comfortable with the thought, after having been away from something similar with someone who's decided he can't be following me here in the USA. I had a rather similar experience when another friend and I were in an intimate, a-sort-of-an-open relationship until this particular fellow committed suicide; his sudden, unexpected death totally knocked me out of my usual happy wits and well established beliefs about the value of preserving one's life as long as possible. But with this particular ex-lover, I had experienced being bluntly turned away, the effects of which I had to deal with shamefacedly in the next few instances that we would meet again as we were going to some common events with other friends. He would still treat me in his own sweet way but I knew he'd been relieved to have finally got rid of me, at least in more affectionate and intimate terms. This ex-lover probably would still remember that I have this relationship that is technically more on hold than real all these past years that I've been here in NYC. Don is still in the Philippines and I doubt if he would ever consider getting a US visa so he could visit me here. I have a feeling that we'll get to see each other again as soon as I decide to visit the Philippines. The relationship between Don and myself has not been moving forward and is frozen somewhere in the frigid clouds up in the atmosphere as we're physically separated by thousands of miles in distance.
I like to believe that this ex-lover of mine took the effort to accept me as to who I was then and must have over-extended himself in the process after getting to know me better in time. I wasn't turning into someone he wanted me to be, in so many ways than one. And I believe he's always known about those things I get into myself every time I meet out with people, as I'm basically happy when I'm with other people. He couldn't confront me about them mainly because he, probably, would prefer not to know about them, unless I volunteer to tell him about them. He's told me "it's really up to you, Jerome" when I was asking
Encounter In a Second Rate Movie Theater In What Used to be BB in Valenzuela City, Bulacan, Philippines
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.
I will always have a special fondness for the memory of someone I met one time in a second rate movie theater somewhere in Bulacan. It's a place called 'BB', which I believe stands for the expansive 'Beer Brewery' buildings of San Miguel Corporation in the area, and I recall the place was just a jeepney ride away from Monumento in Kalookan City. I don't remember who introduced me to the place, but I'll probably be able to do so if I continue remembering the faces of those friends I met many, many years ago.
The movie theater, which was mainly wooden in its structure and design on its exteriors, and complete with mostly wooden theatre seats, would have served the community theater at a much earlier time when people would still go in droves to theaters to watch the latest or at least the more newer big screen movies. It's a testament to the brave entrepreneurial efforts of business persons who had the resources, the sense of civics, and the desire to make money by meeting the needs of the community. But in time, it has become run-down, kept un-maintained in its now-(then)-cheap looking appearance, and people, mostly menfolk, would show up and watch second-rate movies making the rounds of the marketing aspects of the cinematic business network in the provinces. But BB wasn't really provincial in atmosphere as it's close to Kalookan city, one of the cities making up the National Capital Region. And the theater's reputation would unwittingly spread and be known to the city-living gay folks (unless I'm mistaken with what I've seen so far, lesbians have not been known in any way to do this kind of very public cruising inside theaters) and their many varied supporters who always had to find means to relieve themselves of their urges and other physical needs but away from the curious behaviors of the members of the more regular crowds that continue to confound businesses and marketers. As such, the daring and brave would show up in the theater anytime from noontime to at least 10pm in the evenings of the whole week to watch movies as well as to get some pleasure, briefly or more longer in duration, by cruising.
By the time I have managed to show up in this theater in my early adolescent years, I would soon realize the theater's patrons have established implied rules and regulations while being in the theater. Men would be then walking most of the period while inside the theater. And men would wait for other men to sit next to them, open their fly and do what's expected between men who knew what they wanted and knew how to exactly get it with such temerity and shamelessness. You can cruise and be cruised around by other patrons, and it's really up to you if you like to join and have brief fun that lasts as soon as one comes literally and figuratively. I believe most would agree with other regular patrons that most of best daring public sexual live scenes between men (it's inside a movie theater where people would still gather) have taken place inside this theater, and such scenes have had been happening also in many similar theaters all over the Philippine archipelago. The director Brillante Mendoza's film 'Serbis' was able to catch and put on film some of those usual stuff that happen inside theaters like this one I've been describing here. But I know and would remember that not a lot of prostitution transactions happen in this theater---you don't really need to pay someone to work on you or for someone you'd like to work on. It's all out there for the grabbing and taking, using the tools you've learned as you were growing up and socializing with other people. If you're friendly enough, you'll always end up meeting with another one or more who are also friendly like yourself. I would learn and hear about similar observations from other people I've met here in New York City where I am based now, and where the city still has a number of theaters where men would come and gather and have sex with those who attract them and those they find attractive.
In one of those encounters, I managed to be with one medium built light skinned fellow who was wearing shorts, eyeglasses, and some kind of a white undershirt. He could very well had been half Chinese but his eyes didn't show the typical slits in their edges. It's the appropriate outfit when you venture outside and come inside this kind of theater as it's hot, dark, and dingy when your eyes adjust to a different world covered by the theater walls. He appeared to look clean and neat to me, and still very young just like myself then, most probably in our early twenties. I remember he wore flipflops, and it's obvious he lives in the area. I would remember now that I would never encounter him again; if we did actually meet again in another time, he surely had evolved in looks into someone else I would most probably fail to recognize. But during that only encounter, he was one of the most pleasant, nerdy looking, youthful looking young man. We were soon chatting a bit, the details of which I won't be able to recollect now. Up in the balcony, everything is dark, except inside the two bathrooms that stand next to each other where lights are on and I remember the windows open to the scenes below including passersby, residents and visitors in that very commercial part of that small city. You could hear the cacophony of sounds being made by the tricycles moving to and fro their regular whereabouts in the streets of this city. While up in the theater, a lot of very strange and sexual events had been ongoing and taking place all day long.
With both of us still being youthful, we took chances to overcome whatever was bothering us and take chances with each other while others were actually cruising after us, even just for this only moment, which I believe won't even happen if I happened to meet him in the more regular events in our regular, respective lives. He led me to the ladies' bathroom, and inside, he made sure it was locked so we could do exactly what we wanted from and with each other.
I remember his eyeglasses getting wet from the profuse sweat his face would expire as we worked on each other's bodies longingly and most passionately as we could managed. We took turns putting each other's cocks in our respective mouths. By the time we were together inside that bathroom, we definitely knew what we wanted from each other, and there was no need to do more tutoring and get surprised about relatively newer sexual acts that our minds had been pondering on before going out to meet and fool around with other guys. I would remember the heat of those very moments: very hot, and I would probably was soon running a fever! I would hear some other guys trying to get themselves inside the bathroom and would be knocking as if they had to use it for their own private actions I rather not share here. Or they probably wanted to watch us engaged in those acts. In our private quarters during those brief moments, our tight hugs and pouring bodily sweats continued to be exchanged between ourselves, and I would soon feel relieved. I remember he was not circumcised, which is rather unusual for young men of that age. He's really sexy, I will have to add, though. And I had the time of my young life, then. And this particular encounter is probably one of the reasons why I kept on taking my chances by going there often in the hope that I would still see him again. I know he won't refuse me in case that would happen again---but such an opportunity never came again.
And I would be meeting other men of different ages and body builds in this same theater for the next few years that I had managed to be around in this area, in a city that would soon become part of the Philippine National Capital Region. I would be there once or twice on other non-sexual occasions because one of my good college classmates live there; she's already married and with a family and they're still in that city. I would often wonder if the theater has survived to this date the very fast rate of developments that would soon envelop and uncover in that city.
I will always have a special fondness for the memory of someone I met one time in a second rate movie theater somewhere in Bulacan. It's a place called 'BB', which I believe stands for the expansive 'Beer Brewery' buildings of San Miguel Corporation in the area, and I recall the place was just a jeepney ride away from Monumento in Kalookan City. I don't remember who introduced me to the place, but I'll probably be able to do so if I continue remembering the faces of those friends I met many, many years ago.
The movie theater, which was mainly wooden in its structure and design on its exteriors, and complete with mostly wooden theatre seats, would have served the community theater at a much earlier time when people would still go in droves to theaters to watch the latest or at least the more newer big screen movies. It's a testament to the brave entrepreneurial efforts of business persons who had the resources, the sense of civics, and the desire to make money by meeting the needs of the community. But in time, it has become run-down, kept un-maintained in its now-(then)-cheap looking appearance, and people, mostly menfolk, would show up and watch second-rate movies making the rounds of the marketing aspects of the cinematic business network in the provinces. But BB wasn't really provincial in atmosphere as it's close to Kalookan city, one of the cities making up the National Capital Region. And the theater's reputation would unwittingly spread and be known to the city-living gay folks (unless I'm mistaken with what I've seen so far, lesbians have not been known in any way to do this kind of very public cruising inside theaters) and their many varied supporters who always had to find means to relieve themselves of their urges and other physical needs but away from the curious behaviors of the members of the more regular crowds that continue to confound businesses and marketers. As such, the daring and brave would show up in the theater anytime from noontime to at least 10pm in the evenings of the whole week to watch movies as well as to get some pleasure, briefly or more longer in duration, by cruising.
By the time I have managed to show up in this theater in my early adolescent years, I would soon realize the theater's patrons have established implied rules and regulations while being in the theater. Men would be then walking most of the period while inside the theater. And men would wait for other men to sit next to them, open their fly and do what's expected between men who knew what they wanted and knew how to exactly get it with such temerity and shamelessness. You can cruise and be cruised around by other patrons, and it's really up to you if you like to join and have brief fun that lasts as soon as one comes literally and figuratively. I believe most would agree with other regular patrons that most of best daring public sexual live scenes between men (it's inside a movie theater where people would still gather) have taken place inside this theater, and such scenes have had been happening also in many similar theaters all over the Philippine archipelago. The director Brillante Mendoza's film 'Serbis' was able to catch and put on film some of those usual stuff that happen inside theaters like this one I've been describing here. But I know and would remember that not a lot of prostitution transactions happen in this theater---you don't really need to pay someone to work on you or for someone you'd like to work on. It's all out there for the grabbing and taking, using the tools you've learned as you were growing up and socializing with other people. If you're friendly enough, you'll always end up meeting with another one or more who are also friendly like yourself. I would learn and hear about similar observations from other people I've met here in New York City where I am based now, and where the city still has a number of theaters where men would come and gather and have sex with those who attract them and those they find attractive.
In one of those encounters, I managed to be with one medium built light skinned fellow who was wearing shorts, eyeglasses, and some kind of a white undershirt. He could very well had been half Chinese but his eyes didn't show the typical slits in their edges. It's the appropriate outfit when you venture outside and come inside this kind of theater as it's hot, dark, and dingy when your eyes adjust to a different world covered by the theater walls. He appeared to look clean and neat to me, and still very young just like myself then, most probably in our early twenties. I remember he wore flipflops, and it's obvious he lives in the area. I would remember now that I would never encounter him again; if we did actually meet again in another time, he surely had evolved in looks into someone else I would most probably fail to recognize. But during that only encounter, he was one of the most pleasant, nerdy looking, youthful looking young man. We were soon chatting a bit, the details of which I won't be able to recollect now. Up in the balcony, everything is dark, except inside the two bathrooms that stand next to each other where lights are on and I remember the windows open to the scenes below including passersby, residents and visitors in that very commercial part of that small city. You could hear the cacophony of sounds being made by the tricycles moving to and fro their regular whereabouts in the streets of this city. While up in the theater, a lot of very strange and sexual events had been ongoing and taking place all day long.
With both of us still being youthful, we took chances to overcome whatever was bothering us and take chances with each other while others were actually cruising after us, even just for this only moment, which I believe won't even happen if I happened to meet him in the more regular events in our regular, respective lives. He led me to the ladies' bathroom, and inside, he made sure it was locked so we could do exactly what we wanted from and with each other.
I remember his eyeglasses getting wet from the profuse sweat his face would expire as we worked on each other's bodies longingly and most passionately as we could managed. We took turns putting each other's cocks in our respective mouths. By the time we were together inside that bathroom, we definitely knew what we wanted from each other, and there was no need to do more tutoring and get surprised about relatively newer sexual acts that our minds had been pondering on before going out to meet and fool around with other guys. I would remember the heat of those very moments: very hot, and I would probably was soon running a fever! I would hear some other guys trying to get themselves inside the bathroom and would be knocking as if they had to use it for their own private actions I rather not share here. Or they probably wanted to watch us engaged in those acts. In our private quarters during those brief moments, our tight hugs and pouring bodily sweats continued to be exchanged between ourselves, and I would soon feel relieved. I remember he was not circumcised, which is rather unusual for young men of that age. He's really sexy, I will have to add, though. And I had the time of my young life, then. And this particular encounter is probably one of the reasons why I kept on taking my chances by going there often in the hope that I would still see him again. I know he won't refuse me in case that would happen again---but such an opportunity never came again.
And I would be meeting other men of different ages and body builds in this same theater for the next few years that I had managed to be around in this area, in a city that would soon become part of the Philippine National Capital Region. I would be there once or twice on other non-sexual occasions because one of my good college classmates live there; she's already married and with a family and they're still in that city. I would often wonder if the theater has survived to this date the very fast rate of developments that would soon envelop and uncover in that city.
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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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