tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24533960229569975072024-02-07T08:39:06.060-08:00The Native Sentimental ManiacIt's my life...LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.comBlogger123125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-88606437677314417822009-08-02T17:16:00.000-07:002009-08-02T17:23:22.137-07:00How to move onI just thought that reading my own thoughts would help me get over my depression. Here are some of them and please tell me if they are of help to you or not.<br /><br />1. Get back to work mode and try as much as possible to keep yourself busy.<br />2. Start helping your mom with the household chores on weekends.<br />3. Forget your boyfriend and never fall in love with another guy again.<br />4. Start refocusing your life and determine whether meeting a girl this time around is a possibility.<br />5. Always remember that life is beautiful after all, so never ever attempt at committing suicide again.<br />6. Try to set one goal at a time; achieve something for yourself for motivation.<br />7. Pray and go to church.<br /><br />Just some thoughts running in my head now. There could be more though.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-15649769034140006582009-07-27T01:30:00.000-07:002009-07-27T01:33:25.032-07:00The ResurrectionComing back soon. So many things to share and to talk about. Two monhts of indifference shall be several years of recovery.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-27962659323366955802008-04-02T07:03:00.000-07:002008-04-02T07:08:18.678-07:00Did I tell you I went home for the Lent Celebration?Here are some of the photos I took. It's really a cheap camera and I am newbie. At 29, I finally got to buy my first digital camera ever. Ha, ha, ha.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-O8nIT6UUYjOEKB_nrNcYrXtTpNyjDp865XbXJEyJGuWgCqCpVWDIqoGWhvXj8-3UWOhOVPtDf8alUmeW2rB1hSS5UZf_DizxYmw-lui3ooEEd9Rh4A7urFCALKIeFzww8MGTC7AXVCz/s1600-h/PICT0126.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-O8nIT6UUYjOEKB_nrNcYrXtTpNyjDp865XbXJEyJGuWgCqCpVWDIqoGWhvXj8-3UWOhOVPtDf8alUmeW2rB1hSS5UZf_DizxYmw-lui3ooEEd9Rh4A7urFCALKIeFzww8MGTC7AXVCz/s400/PICT0126.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184648887937872082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUgCEUuBBByC-8rIypWxsAUXrr6gn9nGja7Mfv9s38Ap0lKWSgwXoRTWCPJS8NrlrD2AEGQJXowof4_Z8X7DK2P6pi9kz-viXQlkh1SQ4upYEnnWSlgRR5UuO3J0snBipnEVDhNpSGV1H/s1600-h/PICT0127.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUgCEUuBBByC-8rIypWxsAUXrr6gn9nGja7Mfv9s38Ap0lKWSgwXoRTWCPJS8NrlrD2AEGQJXowof4_Z8X7DK2P6pi9kz-viXQlkh1SQ4upYEnnWSlgRR5UuO3J0snBipnEVDhNpSGV1H/s400/PICT0127.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184648900822773986" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYKwM9H9o-mZ59IJEMtHcRzHR7EcvR12I86P-WJQDoUve94JKWF8TnsHx6VZDWPJz-rdaa9Zs4b8BME0tMdTW9Mo_XYJfDTJ5zE38Yw3Q3iTX-K48CSgd_f9JhgnlN6mCCx4pxM-SBS6Qp/s1600-h/PICT0128.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYKwM9H9o-mZ59IJEMtHcRzHR7EcvR12I86P-WJQDoUve94JKWF8TnsHx6VZDWPJz-rdaa9Zs4b8BME0tMdTW9Mo_XYJfDTJ5zE38Yw3Q3iTX-K48CSgd_f9JhgnlN6mCCx4pxM-SBS6Qp/s400/PICT0128.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184648900822774002" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCE7vm3l-iPGxXRxrAitQJr0RhRc5cOaWa5DXzH_MOIWcbH41ofXR8IZujpcXKpLTJwiUb_n1-Ll3PScEWmMFBj-bHJ762jEJVgcKG9gV9R-FyJJtOv0K_yOZMfEZvvfqGzJJSF6UtQ-9/s1600-h/PICT0129.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCE7vm3l-iPGxXRxrAitQJr0RhRc5cOaWa5DXzH_MOIWcbH41ofXR8IZujpcXKpLTJwiUb_n1-Ll3PScEWmMFBj-bHJ762jEJVgcKG9gV9R-FyJJtOv0K_yOZMfEZvvfqGzJJSF6UtQ-9/s400/PICT0129.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184648905117741314" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqTT-F1LiiGje15wMPUMA4QHv3iSxRnPDGbK028Ru1qNgmvYxDGZfwqIM3giqkJVgc0qO_IVhJ4bjAhAfDDaW-zwpjOdpjiuKXZixeq3gKjg1jHzmGr85-Y73mBKt-Pv20wwLENmEIiMv/s1600-h/PICT0134.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqTT-F1LiiGje15wMPUMA4QHv3iSxRnPDGbK028Ru1qNgmvYxDGZfwqIM3giqkJVgc0qO_IVhJ4bjAhAfDDaW-zwpjOdpjiuKXZixeq3gKjg1jHzmGr85-Y73mBKt-Pv20wwLENmEIiMv/s400/PICT0134.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184648905117741330" /></a>LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-6356812083735775732008-03-04T23:38:00.000-08:002008-03-04T23:39:29.069-08:00That scared the shit out of meSeeing the round worm, more than 6 inches long, made me shiver. "How could have I been infested with such a parasite?" I thought to myself. I was almost trembling looking at it in the bowl. I wanted to make sure if what I was seeing was indeed a worm or just something I happened to eat. That was the second week of January this year.<br /><br />Next thing, my panic prodded me to get some confirmation from the internet. I could well describe what I had seen-a worm, pinkish in color, around several millimeters in diameter and had a pointed body. I checked the site and it matched the description of a <a href="http://www.thelifetree.com/gallery.htm">round worm</a>.<br /><br />I was horrified by the sight of it. More so did I when saw the <a href="http://www.thelifetree.com/gallery.htm">grotesque pictures</a> of them on my computer monitor. My mind was racing with ideas then about when, how, and where could have I gotten them. If it's been a while, then that made me figure why I was through some intermittent abdominal pains which I often mistook as pains caused by my liver disease. After flushing the parasite down the drainage, I texted AJ right away. I informed him of what happened to me in the toilet and he got ticked off. I think he misunderstood what I had just told him.<br /><br />He chided me at the onset and traced back my indulgence with street foods particularly<a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/calamares">calamares</a> cooked in fat. He blamed my self-indulgence, my drinking which has turned habitual once more. But his voice had an air of concern which gave me solace somehow. Resolved, I instantly wanted to get rid of the remaining parasites in my system but I didn't want anybody to know about it except AJ and perhaps my mom, so I could ask her for advice. <br /><br />I felt awkward consulting the problem with my mom. My instinct told me she was the one I could turn to. I knew she could help me. She advised me to buy <a href="http://www.jnjaust.com.au/products/combantrin/">combantrin</a> for adults but knowing I had around 90 dollars in my paypal account, I just decided to order medicine online to be shipped from the United States to the Philippines. That cost me some amount but I am satisfied and I continue to take <a href="www.parasitecleanse.com">the medicine</a>.<br /><br />According to Dr. Kevin Campbell, Ph.D, people often think that, because they eat well, they can't be infested with parasites. However, parasites can be transmitted in many ways. We've found that any type of bodily contact-even shaking hands or kissing-can spread them.<br /><br />When you walk along the beach, parasites can burrow into your heel within seconds. Children get worms from pets and playgrounds and then pass them to other people.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-13010568486040842742008-02-25T21:57:00.000-08:002008-02-27T20:42:50.297-08:00While I was GoneI have been so cold and insensitive, dwelling on insecurities, laziness, uneasiness, and sometimes unexplainable human nature. I have been quiet for a long time and never cared to give you my friends about what has been going on with me. I felt I have been smitten with indifference which have bogged me down for some time. My apologies again. <br /><br />The reason for my absence need not be explained. It is simple but it is portentous. I hope you guys don't get sick and tired of my litanies. I just lost the fire and I needed to rest my thoughts since maintaining this blog and thinking of what to write next had been onerous. I had rather enjoyed months of mental liberation. Now I am back with a staggering zeal which I hope will last me a long time. Just in case you have been wondering, here's a quick rundown, I suppose.<br /><br />Last December 2007, on a chilly and quiet evening, the cool breeze of the mountains and the misty evening greeted AJ and myself as we got off the bus. We were finally in Baguio, my beloved hometown. We had planned to celebrate the New Year at home. My two younger brothers were there with their eyes ogling earlier at the windows of the bus. When I called them, they shot me with wide grins and quickly ran up to us to help with our luggage. Their smiles and their presence eased the body ache and giddiness that took its toll on me during the 6-hour trip. We quickly managed to hail a cab and in less than twenty minutes, we were at home. I surely missed the quick trips to and fro my home in the highlands. My trips in Manila hither and thither were different. They would take me hours. I just missed Baguio, its simplicity, its serenity, its canopy of twinkling stars overhead in a tranquil night, its stormy days. Comparing it to the city which adopted me as its own and helped me survive for the past years, is a clear-cut perfidy.<br /><br />The squeaking of the door made up of slabs of wood signified the reunion I had been yearning for. The longing for home was made manifest in the few knocks I so eagerly let go. She opened the door and gave a short grin. She was my mom. I knew how happy she was to see me in sight, close to her, though her usual glumly face tried to hide the yearning of a mother to her son. Homesickness is just hard to deal with. I wished I had been there before Christmas but the nature of my job deprived me to be with them during the major Holiday. Christmas was over yet I was full of excitement to celebrate the start of the New Year with them. As usual, I was with AJ who conspired with my pretension, to give me company. All the while he has been regarded as a close friend of mine, just a close friend. <br /><br />Seeing my family was exhilarating. The moment my eyes lay on their countenances made my heart jump. I smoldered the yearning of hugging them, kissing them on the cheeks...We are not used to that. My siblings and I were somehow raised with indifference at home. We know how much we love each other but none has been demonstrative. We acted as if we were distant from each other. My parents never taught us what kids usually do in terms of displaying their affection and reverence to their parents. There was a short exchange of hi's and hello's and how-are-you's, and after that everybody was busy unpacking the bags and boxes containing pasalubong (gifts and presents). Being homeward bound again gave me ethereal pleasure, yet it was unthinkable to realize that my being with them would only give me ephemeral satisfaction. <br /><br />AJ and I spent almost two-weeks of stay in Baguio. I was glad my boss allowed me to take a leave. The cold weather in Baguio taught us to avoid going to town for additional expenses, to survive without taking a bath, to snuggle daily in the couch while watching TV, to eat, to sleep, to rest and relax. AJ noticed the boredom and he started complaining why I didn't tour him around the city. Oh, how much he wanted to go to the Strawberry Farm.<br /><br />There was no sight of the strawberry farm that took place because two days after new year, we traveled down south to witness my younger brother's wedding. It was the first time somebody among my siblings was getting married. It was exciting but it was a little scary. It was hard to put up with all the pretensions and ostentatious ceremonies, conversations, etc. Nonetheless, the wedding commenced and it ended smoothly. We took a glorious splash of water at a nearby beach before we headed back up North. <br /><br />We left for Manila on the second week of January, 2008 full of a hodgepodge of memories.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-60830447547290621462008-02-20T23:26:00.000-08:002008-02-22T02:26:58.045-08:00Oh, that Bulge!It's me. I blush, feel distraught, uneasy, and I am just human, oh I am gay. I have always been caught off guard by this man in uniform-a security guard. He is not that gorgeous that gays could easily fall in love with but he has this certain animalistic appeal in him. The way he sets his eyes on you drives your thoughts afar,those piercing looks comparable to the scorching heat of the sun titillates your mental faculty beyond horizons. Those glinting glares could melt you right instant. Have you heard of wild imaginations and sexual fantasies? Oh, well. <br /><br />The confidantes I have in the cafeteria were all giggling and rapturous when I told them about my optical encounters with that security guard. Ate Liza and Donna were threatening to spill the beans about my fantasies of that guy. I was quiet with an air of repulsed excitement within me.<br /><br />What if he learns about my furtive desires? I don't think he is a man of steel who would be too insensitive as to notice. I don't want to commit but I am waiting for possibilities. For now, I just have to act as if he never existed before my eyes and wildest fantasies. I can't be sure. He is irresistible. I just feel a little scared. An unexpected turns of tides in the next few weeks could be the start of something sparkling, fiery, forbidden, immoral. Another snare into debauchery.<br /><br />Why do I think this way? It's been less than a month since he was hired as an additional personnel to look after the security of this building. Being a newbie in the area didn't escape my hungered eyes, eyes craving for flesh to behold, fantasize, and perhaps to caress, to own.<br /><br />Our first encounter immortalized him seated on a bench, trying to stretch his lean body out. His 5' 9" height was enhanced as he flexed his lower limbs against the bench while looking at his crotch hidden in that fit blue pair of slacks, with a well-fed fish wanting to squirm out, swim out of that heated machine, find bliss in a watery hole. I hope no one saw me drooling over his body on that day. I was ascending the stairs to the third floor of the building leaving me a slanted top view of his desirable physique. <br /><br />Just today, I met him on his way out of the communal rest room on the third floor. He was tucking his shirt in his fit slacks. I was trying to avoid to look at him but he was looking at me. Oh, those penetrating glances, they continue to puzzle me with my timid response. Those glances are trying to express something and I am not too pathetic to understand what they mean. I gave him a snap of a glimpse, I wanted to smile but it was smouldered. I was flying with so much imagination headed for the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. Is there something he wants to convey? Let's see. I want just in case, but I am scared.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-86344336063444138392007-12-07T02:48:00.000-08:002007-12-07T07:13:02.190-08:00The Reunion<a href="http://pets.webshots.com/photo/2464446520071072569NwjWda"><img src="http://inlinethumb64.webshots.com/25855/2464446520071072569S600x600Q85.jpg" alt="Puppies and Babies Photo Collection - Why God created pets?"></a><br /><br />Oh, <a href="http://mypenisbig.blogspot.com/2007/11/joanna.html">Joanna</a> just had a chat with me today through Yahoo Messenger. She is a distant friend working for <a href="http://www.bettercaring.com">care homes</a> in Canada but no matter how many miles apart we are due to inevitable circumstances in life, she is always dear in my heart. <br /><br />I heard she is coming over to spend Christmas with her loved ones. She found a new inspiration in her life there and that made me flash a wide grin in front of the camera earlier. She was happy to see the big smile in me and she reciprocated with a sigh, perhaps relieved knowing I was ready to accept her new found relationship. We haven't really talked much since she flew in to Canada to better her life and her daughter's whom she abandoned years ago under the custody of her mom. I told her how smart her daughter had become the last time I paid a visit back home. Then, she asked about my sister who is just a few years older than her daughter. <br /><br />We talked about life, our struggles, our happiness, and the benign future we expect to be awaiting us. We ended the jovial conversation with my head inclined to recall one mushy yet glorious evening in my life. <br /><br />After the duck hunt, a reunion with my family was about to unfold. <br /><br />I wanted to go back home and the yearning to see my family again after being away for several weeks had been even more inflamed when I heard from a relative that my mom had just given birth to the only girl among my siblings. My happiness was beyond horizon but I felt bitter and hesitant still that seeing my family especially the newly born angel would entail enough courage from me. The fear I had for my inebriate dad when I was younger persisted in my teen life though he had started cutting loose from the intoxicating addiction. I had to gather my strength enough to humble before my parents especially my dad's high-and-mighty tower. I almost gave up thinking how to possibly push through with the plan that day. Almost feeling hopeless, I ended up drinking the ubiquitous brand of gin available in all the stores in the neighborhood with <a href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com/2007/08/talk-over-some-strawberry-jam.html<br />">Brandon</a> (Kuya M's younger brother) up until around ten p.m that night. <br /><br />We had our usual talks of our lives, dreams, and youthful stories to tell. I felt comfortable sharing everything with him but not the secret I had been contemplating on earlier and was forging in the inward bravado in me. I never told Brandon I was going home on that dark night with the diminishing yet seemingly endless downpour. I left after our short drink and managed to wedge the bottle of glue inside my underwear. I got my hand on a bottle of a glue or a contact cement and though this skeleton of my past had to be resurrected, I had to succumb to its temporary effect to agitate the cringed fear inside me.<br /><br />It was dark and I arrived almost drenched in the rain at the backyard of the house. Our dog was there but it never barked. It only gave me a whimpering sound and I felt how it missed me with his waggly tail, lunging it's head towards me. I decided to go near my parents' room to hear the crying baby. I was a bit drunk but it wasn't enough to boldly bolt me out where I was to see my parents face to face. The baby would continually cry but that was like sweet melody to my ears. I felt overjoyed knowing I already had a sister though was vaguely unsure if I could see how she looked. That made my heart melt still sensing if my moves would give me the expected end-product which is the longing to see my sister. I eased my face closer to the galvanized wall of the house and I could hear my mom trying to lull my baby sister to sleep. I missed my mom too as she was hushing the baby out. A spurt of emotions got caught in my throat and I remember wiping tears rolling out my eyes.<br /><br />Braving myself enough, I took out the bottle of glue and a small plastic bag which I managed to obtain from the horse stable in the courtyard earlier. My spot in the back of the house was dark. The neighbors exterior bulbs and lamps a few meters away were not enough to illuminate my drunken self, my maniacal huffing of the glue. I remember talking to the dog then when my stupefied demeanor and mentality made the world stop. The last thing I recall seeing was the empty bottle of glue. I couldn't believe myself emptying almost a half-litter of bottle through huffing.<br /><br />Next came hysteria, I was crying uncontrollably and so was my mom. My dad on the other hand was drunken, heavily snoring in bed like there's no tomorrow. He didn't see the drama. Nevertheless, I felt so happy making it inside. That was the first time I said "I love you" to my mom. My other brothers were there, one of them making me a cup of coffee. My sister was there, soundly asleep in the antiquated crib. I looked at my mom and she saw the eagerness in me. She motioned to me and I caught the angel in my palms. I was at home eventually sobered a few minutes before the daylight wrapped the darkness that canopied the recent events in my life.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-14089696771834788682007-12-06T09:11:00.001-08:002007-12-06T10:14:30.624-08:00I want to go back to school"Then, why not? If that is your current disposition, you have the autonomy to do it and nobody should get in the way. That is your right." Forgive me, I am talking to myself. <br /><br />That takes me again to a trip down memory lane. One time, Kuya M told me that one of the clear indications of a person who is likely to become a wacko is someone who unconsciously often engages in soliloquy. Yeah, I talk to myself often especially when I'd rehearse for my opening spiels working as a call center representative somewhere in Quezon City almost two years ago. Like, I'd do that everyday while enjoying the short period of my morning walks on the way to work. I had done the same thing in front of the mirror creating a teacher-student conversation by myself when I was still teaching back in my hometown prior to attending my classes. Sometimes, I just have the uncontrolled tendency to do it over and over again when letting out some smothered grudges, banters, and unspoken rants. <br /><br />But I am not going crazy. And before I could have been, the volition to go back home had finally materialized. A few days after that magnificent meal, after that ambrosian experience of the product of my betrayal to my dad and my brother who industriously fed the duck with succulent earthworms almost day in and day out, I made the decision to swallow my pride and be reunited with my family. But there was a fear growing in my forsaken self. I had never got the chance to really communicate with my brothers about how my parents felt about my running away from home. I had doubts whether my dad was still willing to forgive me or not. I knew my pregnant mom was, but not him. I could picture his stoic face ignoring my plea for forgiveness. He had always been like that, not so expressive of what he felt. There were times I knew, he wanted to say he loved me despite hurting me several times but maybe he wasn't just used to that kind of drama. He hated drama madness and that is the culprit as to why we never learned how to kiss them, hug them, get their hands dabbed on our foreheads as a traditional way of showing respect to elders in the Philippines. Not even say I love you, nor greet each other "Happy Birthday."<br /><br /><a href="http://travel.webshots.com/photo/1118601317053733741qOwIDe"><img src="http://inlinethumb50.webshots.com/34353/1118601317053733741S500x500Q85.jpg" alt="Dark sun"></a><br /><br />I wanted to go back home and that yearning to see my family again after being away for several weeks was even more inflamed when I heard from a relative that my mom had just given birth to the only girl among my siblings. My happiness was beyond horizon but I felt bitter and hesitant still that seeing my family especially the newly born angel at home would entail enough courage from me. The fear I had for my inebriate dad when I was younger persisted in my teen life though he had started cutting loose from the intoxicating addiction. I had to gather my strength enough to humble before my parents especially my dad, and I almost gave up thinking how to possibly push through with the plan that day. <br /><br />Almost feeling hopeless, I sought courage from the power of the ubiquitous brand of gin available in all the stores in the neighborhood with <a href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com/2007/08/talk-over-some-strawberry-jam.html">Brandon</a>(Kuya M's younger brother) up until around ten p.m that night. <br /><br />To be continued...LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-53954840589742642522007-12-05T01:21:00.000-08:002007-12-05T18:03:20.824-08:00The Duck Hunt<a href="http://entertainment.webshots.com/photo/2549066610065247733ykPWis"><img src="http://inlinethumb36.webshots.com/34211/2549066610065247733S500x500Q85.jpg" alt="3 - Feb 2 - Convention of Ducks"></a><br /><br />I remember one time a few hours just before a stormy night. My friends and I conferred in the small living room and started discussing how we could survive the calamity and its aftermath. We went on talking about how to feed our jobless selves also in the next few days. <br /><br />Kuya M's monthly allowance from his mom working in Hongkong never arrived on time and we were damn worried about how to sustain our precarious living, stuff our tummies before a cold night sleep.<br /><br />One of my friends, suggested that we go loot one of my dad’s ducks in the backyard. We heard Kuya M makes the best duck recipe by glazing it with his magical and one in a million combination of tropical condiments. The idea outrightly scared me to hell. Knowing my dad considered his ducks more important than his own children was a thing to reckon with. I remember him count his ducks every afternoon when I was still at home. He'd make sure they were all well-fed and served with the copious earthworms which he had instructed my younger brother to rummage in the softer soils and the decomposing horses' dung in the backyard. I was certain my dad would kill me if he caught me red-handed but the angst ensconced in me towards him masked my fear. I agreed with the plan and just thought, "Que Sera, Sera, Whatever will be, will be."<br /><br />We went on with the plan just before the twilight had purpled. It was a peaceful afternoon and the entire compound where our house belonged in was quiet except for our dog which momentarily yapped at my friends when we arrived a few meters from the structure through the fenced in backyard of the house. The courtyard fringed with hibiscus then was still commodious before my dad went insane selling every parcel of land he'd find profitable. The earlier weather forecast of a threatening storm might have shoved the people to stay put and prepare for a thunderous din of the night, I thought.<br /><br />The quietude in the backyard gave me some consolation. It eased my worries earlier but it also sent me a more horrible picture of my what-if's to catch one of the ducks. The ducks seemed intellectually wary of the storm en route as they were gregariously huddled in their open coop but not of our devilish scheme.<br /><br />With an open, empty sack of rice ready to stow one of them, my friends and I started our effortless duck hunt. I couldn't believe my eyes that in less than a minute my friend was able to catch one and managed to keep it squirming inside the sack. I felt relieved knowing we had worked on the plan without any travails. However, my compunction told me I just betrayed my dad, my family. <br /><br />The ducks had started cawing loudly and to my surprise their noise didn't create much stir to bring one of my family members outside and witness my betrayal. We left through the small opening in the fenced in yard and fled through the bamboos near the river to make sure none of my neighbors would blow the whistle on our dirty tactic.<br /><br />The rains had started tattooing on the roof while we were savoring the special meal Kuya M warmly prepared for us on that cold night. It was one of the best meals I have ever had and for the record my dad never found out, or might have he just feigned to send a signal that he had forgiven me?LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-18325619552262845282007-12-03T23:31:00.000-08:002007-12-04T02:14:20.107-08:00Remorse and Hibernation<a href="http://travel.webshots.com/photo/1180485917043915949VTBeKh"><img src="http://inlinethumb51.webshots.com/31346/1180485917043915949S600x600Q85.jpg" alt="Hyenna"></a><br /><br />Was there a time you were in hibernation or in a hiatus? Why? How did you deal with it?<br /><br />"Time is as fast as an arrow." <br /><br />It sucks but I have been mulling over the reasons behind being unable to post in a long time. There are a lot of things to say. The clear-cut getting-in-the-way tuition and quotidian job I have shouldn't be mentioned since it is not a good excuse. Maybe, I was just too lazy to post. Or the fire that was for sometime ablaze just died down. I still love to blog and I just can't understand why the spark just had to fade away. <br /><br />Now, I am thinking more deeply. There was a time I admitted that I have an obsessive-compulsive behavior though I never actually had to undergo a psychological test or whatsoever. I may just be too naive to understand what it really means and I was to clueless to believe that I am indeed obsessive-compulsive. Then again, I remember a time when my eye got caught in the discussion at <a href="http://www.blogcatalog.com/user/tenanimalsdrool">blogcatalog</a> about a blogger who kept changing his blog's template to deal with what he called a "cycle". An impulse that hits people with obsessive-compulsive behavior. A spurt of a chameleon-like character, being whimsical, feeble, etc. I really don't know what's eating me. Insecurities, discontentment, anxieties, sexuality...there are too many to mention. But the compunction that has been eating me away from doing the regular things I had been doing is overwhelming. I am uncertain if spilling the beans will give me a relief. This is something that has been haunting me and I have always turned to AJ for help, reasurrance, and strenght to calmly deal with it.<br /><br />I am really sorry if there are people I have disappointed or people I might have cajoled to live up to my expectations, perhaps my manipulations. Maybe, this is the real me- a very complicated person whom himself doesn't even know.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-31305196553020212072007-11-26T00:13:00.000-08:002007-11-26T09:37:10.374-08:00Mine is September. Is yours, too?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzm1AgXbZS3sA0DCJXgZoKvPaPeSE2p2FoMnbNupcKlGJpfZUCLK7qdi44WPVZDdCySZ5PdLlqOgzJ4srkGg04INsOrcxWhXkJiJb9zntRlD4JtKJudeAQHxycH6Wq30tgeMfqGaZ6Oqc2/s1600-h/birthstone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzm1AgXbZS3sA0DCJXgZoKvPaPeSE2p2FoMnbNupcKlGJpfZUCLK7qdi44WPVZDdCySZ5PdLlqOgzJ4srkGg04INsOrcxWhXkJiJb9zntRlD4JtKJudeAQHxycH6Wq30tgeMfqGaZ6Oqc2/s400/birthstone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137202275492632418" border="0" /></a><br />I got tagged by <a href="http://reynaelena.com/">Reyna Elena</a>, <a href="http://lettersfromthesoul.com/">Jeangrey</a> and <a href="http://parisukat.com/">Parisukat</a> with "One Year", I mean "Twelve Months", hihihi.<br /><br />The rules are simple:<br /><br />1.Mention the person who tagged you and create a link back to them.<br />2.Copy-paste the traits for all the twelve months (see below).<br />3.Pick your month of birth.<br />4.Highlight the traits that apply to you.<br />5.Tag 12 people and let them know by visiting their blogs and leaving a comment for them.<br />6.Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve done it!<br /><br />I know how hard it is to be working on tags so I hope these twelve picks I am tagging may understand. Just feel free to respond if you are for it or not. Whatever it is, I won't take it against you. To be honest I myself sometimes feel reluctant in doing the tags but I have to get going as there are more sitting in piles for me. I hope guys this won't be much of a burden on you.<br /><br />P.S To our fellow bloggers who have tagged me with other memes, please bear with me, yours will soon be posted here.<br /><br />I was born in September.<br /><br />SEPTEMBER: Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people’s mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Careful, cautious and organized.</span>= I maybe careful and cautious, but to be honest, I am not organized.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Likes to point out people's mistakes.</span>= I think I am guilty of this especially during my coaching sessions with my fellow teachers. I try to be discrete though at times and I openly welcome criticisms on my part. I acknowledge my own flaws even if there are times I tend to be a perfectionist.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Likes to criticize.</span>= This thing I can't avoid, directly or indirectly. But I make it a point not to hurt others' feelings. On second thought, unexpressed criticism is more painful to bear, it is akin to backstabbing, so when I am compelled, I try to be open to avoid worse case scenarios.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stubborn.</span>= I am especially when I was younger. I have managed to understand and realize my weaknesses so it's being realistic when I get stubborn at times.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Quiet but able to talk well.</span>= Being a highlander perhaps makes me a man of quietude but I am very much talkative when I get to know the people around.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Calm and cool.</span>= No way, I easily freak out.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Kind and Sympathetic.</span>= I think I am. I am basically a "pusong mamon." (soft-hearted)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Concerned and Detailed.</span>= I sometimes care less when there seems to be no direction in the thing I do and what others do. But I am a detailed person.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Does work well.</span>= I try to but there are times I also screw up and I lose focus.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Very confident.</span>= Not too confident. I have my comfort zones.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sensitive.</span>= I try to but I think it is human instinct to be sensitive, some are just inconsiderate of others and they need to be reminded.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Good memory.</span>= Mine I think is in its depreciating mode. I am getting older.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Loves to look for information.</span>= I choose specific needs. I have my own interests.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Must control oneself when criticizing.</span>= I think I really must. I try not to offend other people.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fun to be around.</span>=I hope some people find me that way. Unfortunately, I don't appreciate how fun to be with I am as a person but I always feel happy to be with those who are.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Secretive.</span>= I am an introvert but I am getting over it. My life is an open book to most of the people I am comfortable with.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Loves leisure and traveling.</span>= I do but the lack of funds and resources are my greatest obstacles.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tends to bottle up feelings.</span>= Yes, and it's humiliating that I burst them out when I sleep. I am a somniloquist and sometimes I talk about my hidden desires for men. (LOL)<br /><br />In so saying, I am tagging the following:<br /><br />Awannabe of <a href="http://adultchildbio.blogspot.com/">The Life of Awannabe</a><br />Cyberpunk of <a href="http://kaide.blogspot.com/">Cyberpunk's So-Called Life</a><br />Glenz of <a href="http://maldita12.blogspot.com/">Finally My Journey!</a><br />Maiylah of <a href="http://lifesnippets.net/">Maiylah's Snippets</a><br />Monaco of <a href="http://keyboardmonologues.blogspot.com/">Keyboard Monologues</a><br />Morinn of <a href="http://morinn.blogspot.com/">Something To Talk About</a><br />Nick of <a href="http://nickphil67.blogspot.com/">Anything Goes</a><br />Nick of <a href="http://personalparanoia.blogspot.com/">Personal Paranoia</a><br />Serena of <a href="http://quantumchat.blogspot.com/">Chat 'N Chill</a><br />Shannon of <a href="http://shannonxj.blogspot.com/">Another Blogista On The Spot</a><br />Shiera of <a href="http://bisdakbabbles.blogspot.com/">Bisdak Babbles</a><br />Sparky of <a href="http://afaeriestale.blogspot.com/">A Faeriestale</a><br /><br />JANUARY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Ambitious and serious. Loves to teach and be taught. Always looking at people’s flaws and weaknesses. Likes to criticize. Hardworking and productive. Smart, neat and organized. Sensitive and has deep thoughts. Knows how to make others happy. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Rather reserved. Highly attentive. Resistant to illnesses but prone to colds. Romantic but has difficulties expressing love. Loves children. Loyal. Has great social abilities yet easily jealous. Very stubborn and money cautious.<br /><br />FEBRUARY: Abstract thoughts. Loves reality and abstract. Intelligent and clever. Changing personality. Attractive. Sexy. Temperamental. Quiet, shy and humble. Honest and loyal. Determined to reach goals. Loves freedom. Rebellious when restricted. Loves aggressiveness. Too sensitive and easily hurt. Gets angry really easily but does not show it. Dislikes unnecessary things. Loves making friends but rarely shows it. Daring and stubborn. Ambitious. Realizes dreams and hopes. Sharp. Loves entertainment and leisure. Romantic on the inside not outside. Superstitious and ludicrous. Spendthrift. Tries to learn to show emotions.<br /><br />MARCH: Attractive personality. Sexy. Affectionate. Shy and reserved. Secretive. Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic. Loves peace and serenity. Sensitive to others. Loves to serve others. Easily angered. Trustworthy. Appreciative and returns kindness. Observant and assesses others. Revengeful. Loves to dream and fantasize. Loves traveling. Loves attention. Hasty decisions in choosing partners. Loves home decors. Musically talented. Loves special things. Moody.<br /><br />APRIL: Active and dynamic. Decisive and hasty but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic. Consoling, friendly and solves people’s problems. Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Emotional. Aggressive. Hasty. Good memory. Moving. Motivates oneself and others. Sickness usually of the head and chest. Sexy in a way that only their lover can see.<br /><br />MAY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Strong-willed and highly motivated. Sharp thoughts. Easily angered. Attracts others and loves attention. Deep feelings. Beautiful physically and mentally. Firm Standpoint. Needs no motivation. Easily consoled. Systematic (left brain). Loves to dream. Strong clairvoyance. Understanding. Sickness usually in the ear and neck. Good imagination. Good physical. Weak breathing. Loves literature and the arts. Loves traveling. Dislike being at home. Restless. Not having many children. Hardworking. High spirited. Spendthrift.<br /><br />JUNE: Thinks far with vision. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best. Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills. Talkative. Daydreamer. Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Able to show character. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Brand conscious. Executive. Stubborn.<br /><br />JULY: Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation. Easily consoled. Honest. Concerned about people’s feelings. Tactful. Friendly. Approachable. Emotional temperamental and unpredictable. Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. Not revengeful. Forgiving but never forgets. Dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things. Guides others physically and mentally. Sensitive and forms impressions carefully. Caring and loving. Treats others equally. Strong sense of sympathy. Wary and sharp. Judges people through observations. Hardworking. No difficulties in studying. Loves to be alone. Always broods about the past and the old friends. Likes to be quiet. Homely person. Waits for friends. Never looks for friends. Not aggressive unless provoked. Prone to having stomach and dieting problems. Loves to be loved. Easily hurt but takes long to recover.<br /><br />AUGUST: Loves to joke. Attractive. Suave and caring. Brave and fearless. Firm and has leadership qualities. Knows how to console others. Too generous and egoistic. Takes high pride in oneself. Thirsty for praises. Extraordinary spirit. Easily angered. Angry when provoked. Easily jealous. Observant. Careful and cautious. Thinks quickly. Independent thoughts. Loves to lead and to be led. Loves to dream. Talented in the arts, music and defense. Sensitive but not petty. Poor resistance against illnesses. Learns to relax. Hasty and trusty. Romantic. Loving and caring. Loves to make friends.<br /><br />SEPTEMBER: Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people’s mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.<br /><br />OCTOBER: Loves to chat. Loves those who loves them. Loves to take things at the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but doesn’t pretend. Gets angry often. Treats friends importantly. Always making friends. Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer. Opinionated. Does not care of what others think. Emotional. Decisive. Strong clairvoyance. Loves to travel, the arts and literature. Touchy and easily jealous. Concerned. Loves outdoors. Just and fair. Spendthrift. Easily influenced. Easily loses confidence. Loves children.<br /><br />NOVEMBER: Has a lot of ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinks forward. Unique and brilliant. Extraordinary ideas. Sharp thinking. Fine and strong clairvoyance. Can become good doctors. Dynamic in personality. Secretive. Inquisitive. Knows how to dig secrets. Always thinking. Less talkative but amiable. Brave and generous. Patient. Stubborn and hard-hearted. If there is a will, there is a way. Determined. Never give up. Hardly becomes angry unless provoked. Loves to be alone. Thinks differently from others. Sharp-minded. Motivates oneself. Does not appreciate praises. High-spirited. Well-built and tough. Deep love and emotions. Romantic. Uncertain in relationships. Homely. Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest and keeps secrets. Not able to control emotions. Unpredictable.<br /><br />DECEMBER: Loyal and generous. Sexy. Patriotic. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Loves to socialize. Loves praises. Loves attention. Loves to be loved. Honest and trustworthy. Not pretending. Short tempered. Changing personality. Not egotistic. Take high pride in oneself. Hates restrictions. Loves to joke. Good sense of humor. Logical.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-64628517775957440112007-11-25T10:12:00.000-08:002007-11-26T00:12:14.186-08:00The Friendship Goes On<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com/"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJQpKb93x9sJkiiOFWrjdiXWtHR1MGa52U_YMql-3edWbClG-GBmRSfH-Fu00zGXqpkxw91_HcqTSme0SPRTq7aeea2jlaxMBmf9Hm0hJlFruOE15WC7MuxlmeieV2-b6LAGhkDuWGyhK/s400/friendship.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136842945643747138" /></a><br />Kuya M’s mother was working abroad at that time. The fact that he and his younger brother were given the autonomy to manage their house made it easier for me to penetrate their privacy. The same went with my friends who found refuge in that house at the most lowly times in their lives. Or we were just too young then to be governed by our whimsical impulse.<br /><br />We had a friendship outside of consanguinity but our aspirations and desperations made us more than like blood-related individuals. We were under the tutelage of no less than our close friends whom we had looked up to as our own and vice versa. There were seven of us, two females and five males who kept our selves busy with budgeting, doing the household chores, maintaining our sanity through animated talks of our childhood memories, the good old days, of pop and rock music, of basketball and volleyball, and of our hopeful dreams if ever there were. Kuya M’s place witnessed the release of our quelled and smoldered anguish, desperation, and frustrations in life. That’s where we found temporary oblivion to our problems with the almost nightly fellowship with cheaply sold liquors.<br /><br />Kuya M’s dad on the other hand would pay us a monthly visit with some sufficient supply of dried fish, fruits, vegetables and other stuff in spite of having to tend his other family in another city. I knew how Kuya M hated him but he was thankful they were not neglected.<br /><br />Kuya M has a heart of gold. It would have been easy for him to tell us to go back to our respective homes, reunite with our families, and dine with them so tightening up his budget wouldn’t be a thing to worry but he didn’t. He and his younger brother would often fall short of their provisions because of the additional mouths to feed. But he fairly understood that we needed time to forget and recover and he was so generous enough to include us in his and his younger brother’s budget. In response to his loyal kindness and generosity, I and the others would do all the household chores, help him with his massive homework and school requirements in his third year as a Psychology Major, and sometimes do impossible things just to pinch in with our meals.<br /><br />After sometime, we felt we were like real brothers and sisters living under the same roof separated by our biological parents but united by the golden friendship we still treasure until now.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-40647200502335673752007-11-24T10:58:00.000-08:002007-11-25T10:16:41.641-08:00Foraging For Food Before The Duck Hunt<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com/"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7TbFoj1ctc60EPtA58cjQopYBdogLvp4BXV2WdHUvDKrWvewuPTvfHH0pZbFCDseh1Pbm1HMFo5IzaGRC1cHtFITEA-WEzylTpe4SEutU665EC1_eLmivl60fhdNd_LZxHej0EINOWS5/s400/chayote.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136843443859953490" /></a><br />The days faded and I had not gone home. The weeks flourished so swiftly and it witnessed the growing desperation that had been dwelling on my execrable self. I was such a loser and I let it. There were times I would go to sleep with other friends who had eloped from their homes with the disturbing thoughts of my father. He was still a habitual drunkard then and it scared me to death thinking that anytime he might just storm in Kuya M’s ( a friend and the owner of the house where I found temporary shelter and consolation) house and forcibly drag me to get back home. Nothing of that sort happened though and I took it to signify that my parents must have understood my rebellious behavior.<br /><br />I was deeply hurt and the longer I stayed at Kuya M’s, the more brooding the future got envisioned in me. I wasn’t hopeless but I acted I was. My frailty gave in to the thrills my youth could offer. I started sucking in on cigarettes more than I had used to and got more exposed to the different tastes of inebriants.<br /><br />In some occasions, I’d get surprised to see some of my classmates paying me a visit or two. I’d hear them asking where I was in the village and my neighbors who knew me would direct them at Kuya M’s. They’d always convince me to go back to school and that there was enough time I could still catch up by taking special exams. They were also witness of my jeremiads but they didn’t get the reciprocation they’d wanted from me. I’d tell them how the recent event in my life had ripped off the zeal and passion I once had wrought and feared I’d never step back in college again.<br /><br />The life at I had at Kuya M's was not a bed of roses. Living without their parents somehow taught us to depend on each other and find means for survival. It was a give and take relationship for a certain period of time. There were days we had to support ourselves foraging for food around the village. There were open neighbors’ yards with sweet potato tops and openly wide lattice of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chayote">chayote</a>. We’d furtively scour promising targets for our next meal and sheepishly deal with the hostile looks of some neighbors. A lot of them though were generous and understanding enough to let go of our notoriety. Mostly, we’d fare on some <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chayote">chayote tops</a> mixed with a small can of sardines for days. We intermittently fared on these edible greens and though jobless as we were, we miraculously survived for several weeks.<br /><br />I was on the verge of giving up realizing that my pride might have worsened my situation. I thought I was ready to go back home.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-70292153510336465822007-11-23T02:17:00.001-08:002007-11-23T03:11:39.906-08:00Before the Duck Hunt<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com/"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMWn4yX_s8PxBY0oPtEaPj4dOQigbOTk4LUROFt7Z43fEcmJig7BCIjsqiTMlX3f0V2PSuv1blzvb58JM-Dx98lUce5OQKIIJfBv9e3l6_tYqA_zQKjdxYM8JeHHEK5ItF6fSMqlT417T/s400/door.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135978115323991794" /></a><br />For several days, I had to arduously hit the books almost memorizing each page, word per word. I had to shut down the door from the insouciant dealings with my friends. I was sleepless, expectant, and anxious a few days before the Mid-term Exams.<br /><br />My preliminary marks impassioned me to better my studies. It was an enticing headstart of the making of my future. How propitious it was to look forward to a time when my parents could worry no more of their financial responsibility for my education. I wanted to be a part of the Dean's List, eager to devoid my parents of miraculously providing for my tuition fee. I just wanted to help them and help myself.<br /><br />Then the day came when my dad told me something that would ruin all my plans. That he had no money. That he was sorry and all he could do was to push me to talk to the university's treasurer at the registrar's office, to make a promisory note, just take the exams anyway and pay them by the time my dad's ready.<br /><br />But my intense emotions and outright frustration didn't give my dad the chance to be heard. I remember leaving him in the room and just got out of the house to vent out my rage. After dinner, I returned home, quiet. My face was a picture of failure and so was my dad who couldn't talk anymore. No words came out of his mouth until everybody at home except me had to go to sleep. I knew how sorry my dad was, and I too felt sorry for my compulsion contrived me to abscond. Before the neighbors' roosters made their competitive racket, I saw myself with an old bag and my clothes in it. <br /><br />I ended up at a friend's house just around the village. That's where I found the shoulders of a comforting outlet, talked with my friends, heard and felt their commiseration. How I wanted to forget the recent event that I started indulging in drinking, severe smoking, and willfully disregarded giving my dad and myself a second chance. I rebelled and found temporary refuge in a place so familiar with my parents and my siblings.<br /><br />I felt better as the days progressed. My friends place served as my convalescence. Not a day went on though seeing my brother through the shutters, knocking at the door, calling out my name. He would talk to some of my friends and tell them I was being asked by my parents to go back home and that my parents were worried about me. My brother had to go home frustrated since my friends were so protective and one word was enough for them to lie about my whereabouts.<br /><br />My heart is so weak and sometimes hiding my emotions is hard to deal with. "I will soon recover, I will soon go back home." I told myself while looking at my brother walk away.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-3485645666818226292007-11-21T01:11:00.000-08:002007-11-21T10:44:04.593-08:00Vitamin BTB -Be The BlogThere's more I would like to present to our dear fellow bloggers out there because of their notable blogging efforts but my time pulls my eagerness to give them right off the bat. For now let me start doing my share in bestowing this award to the following: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkF9BnyJxqBqerMJHKTT0r86OMTrOMhuJhJ8YXHryJYK1LW5qVMirhie4WdRhW238KBFq2VMgjz1FT09GAwFLfqsjJK0mTVlXjC84az3oChoh7lyzyAfZq-M5wYMxAQyssDNKe-29Jib6v/s1600-h/btb_creamy_cabernet.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkF9BnyJxqBqerMJHKTT0r86OMTrOMhuJhJ8YXHryJYK1LW5qVMirhie4WdRhW238KBFq2VMgjz1FT09GAwFLfqsjJK0mTVlXjC84az3oChoh7lyzyAfZq-M5wYMxAQyssDNKe-29Jib6v/s400/btb_creamy_cabernet.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135366056714508002" /></a><br /><br />You can check out their blogs yourself to realize how much of a vitamin they serve to perk up your reading pleasure. There are equally deserving blogs I'd like to share this with but it's already a redundancy.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" >Be The Blog Awardees </span><br /><br />Cyberpunk of <a href="http://kaide.blogspot.com/">Cyberpunk's So-Called Life</a><br />Jehrad of <a href="http://www.bustachange.com/">Bust A Change </a><br />Kimchihead of <a href="http://www.kimchihead.com/">The Kimchihead</a><br />Loz of <a href="http://manta57.blogspot.com/">Sunrays and Saturdays</a><br />Mama Reynz of <a href="http://reynaelena.com/">Reyna Elena</a><br />Mon of <a href="http://keyboardmonologues.blogspot.com/">Keyboards Monologue</a><br />Morinn of <a href="http://morinn.blogspot.com/">Something to Talk About</a><br />Nick of <a href="http://nickphil67.blogspot.com/">Anything Goes</a><br />Shannon of <a href="http://shannonxj.blogspot.com/">Another Blogista On The Spot</a><br />Shiera of <a href="http://bisdakbabbles.blogspot.com/">Bisdak Babbles</a><br />Sparky of <a href="http://afaeriestale.blogspot.com/">A Faeries Tale</a><br /><br />To the recipients please visit <a href="http://www.meandmydrum.com/a-new-badge-is-born-be-the-blog/">Me and My Drum</a> for the suitable badge of your choice.<br /><br />And to <a href="http://adultchildbio.blogspot.com/">Awannabe</a> ,<a href="http://parisukat.com/">Parisukat</a> , and <a href="http://blackbaies.blogspot.com/">Ivy</a> -my heartfelt gratefulness extends to the interior of my ears and the flung corners of my mouth. (Can you imagine how you just made me smile?) This could be corny and an exaggeration but there is no other way I could express my warmest thanks to you.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-51068705636491777932007-11-20T11:06:00.001-08:002007-11-20T14:48:03.497-08:00Moving Forward<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcNj9wKUNWd53rmrkYuwiU05UeSf_ex6uWUAOARWxmtcn9RaobyJ3Z4y4_nb083eP_ZAqnMYYG8Iq1CfOYv8eqlGZKUMkd94zCyVa0L3XLYWg-oIAex-yjKmoDf9bP0ciL9t80p_6CepZ/s1600-h/diploma.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcNj9wKUNWd53rmrkYuwiU05UeSf_ex6uWUAOARWxmtcn9RaobyJ3Z4y4_nb083eP_ZAqnMYYG8Iq1CfOYv8eqlGZKUMkd94zCyVa0L3XLYWg-oIAex-yjKmoDf9bP0ciL9t80p_6CepZ/s400/diploma.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135002839920219810" /></a><br />It was like a dream that thrilled my passion to auspiciously look ahead of my future. But when my dad told me he could no longer maintain my schooling, I had to succumb to despondency. I felt totally dejected. <br /><br />My farewell was dragging me to abandon my ambition. My heart was crying. I knew I did my best, that I could prove myself better than most of my classmates, that my teacher adored the mental capacity I was trying to better. It was after all a fanfaronade, a parade of my wit that would end up in a tragedy of sort, intercepted and underappreciated.<br /><br />That bitter year of 1999 somehow lost my momentum to regain the positive thoughts I had for studying. There were attempts of going back to school, some scholarship grants, a close relative who volunteered her support for my education, drilling my own pocket when ESL teaching paved its way for me-all these proved futile though to still aim for the diploma which everybody thinks is the measure of one’s worth in the society. <br /><br />Why do people look down on me if I have no diploma and I can speak English better than they do? Why do people look down on me If I have no diploma and they ask me to work on their essays and thesis? Why do people look down on me If I have no diploma and I always have to teach them how grammatically incorrect their sentence construction is? Why do people look down on me If I have no diploma and I can speak English with eloquence sounding like an American Native with the twang of an Igorot Americanized during the World War II? Why do my fellow teachers look down on me if I have no diploma but most of our Korean students choose me to be their teacher, give me the highest score for teachers’ evaluation, and place me as the top teacher in the “Big Five”? Why do these teachers with doctorate degrees look down on me If I have no diploma and I toppled them when the school master conducted a rigorous grammar exam for teachers at the Korean School where I worked at? Why did I have to leave them trailing tens of points behind me If I have no diploma and I deserved the promotion but never got it? Why do people look down on me if I have no diploma and I have been working for almost ten years now while many graduates bum around and can't even make it to the mushrooming call centers in the country? I have jumped from one job to another and I wished I had two bodies to grab more. <br /><br />The foregoing above should suffice as to why I need to harp on this, that I am an undergraduate student. No one wanted to call me a professional and I am taking this opportunity to call my self one. <br /><br />This is my blog anyway. I am also proud to say that I am gay.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-74097251120345790552007-11-18T22:22:00.000-08:002007-11-18T23:11:36.965-08:00phone chat datingI know a few people who found their true love through the Internet. One is happily married and in Sweden, another one already has two children enjoying the sight of her blue-eyed children in New Zealand, and the other one just flew to Germany to heed to the marriage proposal she got from her loyal boyfriend whom she met through chatting online.<br /><br />For those people who are lonely, loveless, and are looking for their ideal partners in life, <a href="http://www.friendsation.com/">Friendsation</a> might just be the first step for you. It is a free community website that facilitates live chat thru live Chat thru multiple mediums. <br /><br />Signing up is free so why not try it? It is an online site which provides you an avenue for <a href="http://www.friendsation.com/">free dating</a>, <a href="http://www.friendsation.com/live-chat.php">free live chat</a>, and <a href="http://chat.friendsation.com/">free phone chat</a>.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-55506524766631095282007-11-18T11:06:00.000-08:002007-11-20T14:57:03.417-08:00Looking Beyond The Horizon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8Wp3yK32okGabjBgft7f2CT3XsB1O6wwWRWr9sFYjyEqYpVFQhB8VrhvRV8WXHVhrBQIew6Ja-4JEiNdqwzeopEE-QO61QyEJU2WAXMEQ7c7lpD7AaMp2P6NLftRo9faaSzw5xrgGzBI/s1600-h/horizon.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8Wp3yK32okGabjBgft7f2CT3XsB1O6wwWRWr9sFYjyEqYpVFQhB8VrhvRV8WXHVhrBQIew6Ja-4JEiNdqwzeopEE-QO61QyEJU2WAXMEQ7c7lpD7AaMp2P6NLftRo9faaSzw5xrgGzBI/s400/horizon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135060340942378674" /></a><br />My childish impulse made me believe I wanted to be an engineer. In my adolescence though, one simple yet inevitable revelation changed all that-the revelation of my sexuality. This irreversible revelation was harder to chew than some smoked horse meat. I had to swallow it then, accept it as a part of my wholeness.<br /><br />"I haven't heard of any gay engineers," I heard myself say in highschool. It was a quick decision. I just realized I had to bury that dream of mine even if there were attempts of evasion, believing I wasn't created as one of those abhorred and despised by many people. I didn't want to give up that dream I have since envisioned but the inflamed passion for writing I just discovered of myself handed the verdict I had to be served in weaving my future. <br /><br />Prohibiting myself to succumb to the notoriety stigmatized by homosexuality, I had to believe in a while that I was made a man and the femininity in me wasn't indelible. But I was mistaken, the more I tried to elude the reality of my nature, the more pain I had to go through all my life. But to top it all, I wanted to prove something that would ameliorate the ingrained, grotesque picture associated with homosexuality. Though my primary dream was a meek witness of my evolving sexuality, a witness stifled in oblivion, I grinned with optimism to ready myself for a detour.<br /><br />I took up Mass Communications in college. Primordially, the course took me to a smooth sailing ship in a serene sea, mirroring the azure skies that lit my earnest dream. I was determined to be a journalist. Until one day, the swells of the sea disembarked me from my journey. Until one day, despite of trying so hard, the course I was taking turned rutted. I dropped out of school, derailed by lack of funds at a spitting distance from the terminus. I never graduated.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-10193240419955963982007-11-17T09:09:00.000-08:002007-11-17T20:47:26.232-08:00Optimistic<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com/"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1SFYFKX8i4GMfdNvPtZT7SKWRg_R0PYEzvjWUmJX3-5iSuScHRZnCU6oe81IWqHD0ou1g3s6FSB0whwRTlJUK26x9Yol2VSQinzoB2hi6HAyL6tf4NimoGQbBfOZNJR1rVakiOmJlotj/s400/a+tunnel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133881312290084402" /></a><br />What was your dream in your yester years? When you were younger, do you remember an instance how you would tell with fervor, your dreams to your parents? Do you recall a moment in a classroom when one of your teachers wanted to know how you envisioned a career for yourself? When you stood up with paramount dignity telling everyone what you wanted to be was the noblest in the world? With how you'd take pride comparatively prattling with your playmates of your precarious ambitions? <br /><br />I remember myself with those kindled dreams in my innocence. Words rolling off my tounge were like the reflection and assurance of a bright future awaiting me, in retrospect. How sweet it was to always tell people, "I wanted to be a Civil Engineer." I held on to that dream passioned by how my dad would always brag about his engineer friend, that an engineer makes a lot of money and plans, and builds the most durable and elegant buildings and houses, bridges and roads. Well, that was how I was told.<br /><br />Later though as I soon left the images of my boyhood, and my innocence opened to the more complex realities in life, I realized that dreaming too much in my younger years was a picture of bitterness. As I was going through different struggles in life, the picture of the world began to unfold together with the departure of my ignorance. It proved that it was more painful battling a well of obscurity impending to ruin your most cherished ambitions.<br /><br />In my teen years, that word-of-mouth dream of my younger years slowly vanished. I was probably doing my best priviliged with the education my parents afforded me in a public school but the path I took was rudderless until one of my mentors in highschool discovered something in me-that I could write.<br /><br />I was zealous and a vim of do-good nature in me was ablaze anew. I had a new direction to take. "I wanted to be a journalist." I told my classmates and teacher on my first day as a freshman in a prestigious university in my town.<br /><br />How I ended up being a teacher? It's for another post.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-18883380343049328142007-11-17T08:55:00.000-08:002007-11-21T04:19:47.969-08:00Emergency CashI just can’t seem to have enough. It’s not that I am complaining about how much money I make out of my job but seeing me habitually strapped is inevitable. There is some satisfaction in a son being able to help his parents and siblings religiously but trying hard to make both ends meet sometimes suggests that the son should just live on his own. I know I can do that but a dutiful son to his parents says otherwise. <br /><br />When my boss was still here in the Philippines, there were countless times I had to hesitantly ask him for cash advance and <a href="http://www.cashadvance1500.com/ ">payday loans</a>. My all-of-a-sudden-presence at his office in an ancillary mode intuitively meant I needed something. I needed money. My boss was kind and understanding enough during those times. Perhaps, if my memory serves me right, only one instance of being turned down, pushes me not to recall the times. I know he hated the idea of it since borrowing and lending money isn’t so common in his culture. But knowing I support not only myself but my family, he had to relinquish his indifference. <br /><br />It’s been months since I made the decision to end my gambling addiction. Glad, I can do better now in terms of my financial obligations to my family. Often times though, I am caught daydreaming about the next payday. The fact is, I am impecunious most of the time always fumbling where to get immediate cash, especially now that my boss has not been around for almost a year.<br /><br />The Solution. <br /><br />Getting <a href=": http://www.cashadvance1500.com/">cash advance</a> online is a sure relief. It offers you quick cash assistance to fund your personal checking or savings account. One good thing about it is that it does not require you a credit check. In addition, the loan approval criteria is based on a few other factors that most employed people meet such as employment, status, minimum income, and an active checking or savings account. <br /><br />Pay day loans or <a href="http://www.cashadvance1500.com/ ">short term loans</a> also prove helpful. Usually the cash advance checks are processed faster, you can apply anonymously from the public, complete the application in the privacy of your own home, no standing in line at a store for hours, etc.<br /><br />Got the thoughts of it. The next time I need cash and no one seems to come in handy, I surely know where to get help. I should try it next time.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-18396855062377874242007-11-16T02:22:00.000-08:002007-11-16T07:03:01.600-08:00Missing Something<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Hb9hIuf2fZ5G3Mi0DQ8BGZKHwViwDqHh03Tp-yhMiQaQQVcezcruWGX4LzpvQA9Y05efFtMEJZTpLvWuNdrRyEwBnYj9W0S8d-heVjnMwfmN8jlxvi8feJ3RfE0wWxntq7980po6m-9-/s1600-h/lighthouse.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Hb9hIuf2fZ5G3Mi0DQ8BGZKHwViwDqHh03Tp-yhMiQaQQVcezcruWGX4LzpvQA9Y05efFtMEJZTpLvWuNdrRyEwBnYj9W0S8d-heVjnMwfmN8jlxvi8feJ3RfE0wWxntq7980po6m-9-/s400/lighthouse.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133453864259884562" /></a><br />I finally let loose last night. <br /><br />I had the intention to take a leisurely walk but it turned out the other way. It was tinged with horror. It was past midnight and I felt the urge to back out. The visibility of my fear made it self manifest in my walk. It was a moonless sky but the vicinity was bright perhaps because of the coruscating neon signs and the beaming lights from the high-rise buildings. <br /><br />I kept turning my head, looking high and low but all I could see were a few vehicles speeding up for the trip on their way home. I couldn't see any figure on the road except the thought that I walked past the habitually sleeping guard at the basement before my exit of the building.<br /><br />The walk saw me yearning for something, something I had done in the past which I wish I had ejected entirely off me. Still something in me wanted to burst out at that moment, to break the silenced worldly passion in my entity. To push the limit I have imposed to myself, stifle my restriction. I knew I didn't like to do it but my personality spoke to my other side. There was something I wanted to do. But the time was forbidding. It took an unbiased interruption of my craving as there were no victims the animalistic nature in me could prey on.<br /><br />Accompanied by three bottles of extra strong beer, a cup of coffee, some smoked horse meat, and the noise in that joint along the main road, I took the pleasure to treat myself after a hard day's work. It was payday and that was strange of me. I would rather go home and have some rest. The ambiance was made much stranger without the presence of AJ, the thoughts of him was my company. "You are alone, where's your friend?" The lady server asked.<br /> <br />It was different without AJ's voice animatedly singing his favorite oldies and his temporal rejuvenation singing today's songs. True, it was a night of a slice of freedom but it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. <br /><br />I came back to the office satisfied with the temporary happiness a small beer could give but my soul was empty.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-12050505369423966542007-11-15T00:30:00.000-08:002007-11-15T08:07:18.837-08:00I ruined his future<a href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com/"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kNnp5LEFB0NZTbe80B36S4AZy3JoLZNs-j0TD6Lk_Z-cOI7E0-xuk9dIEOYbmOV07wKT38Op8uUc-_Ic-f2JC86oHqh6RH78bCObyJ0fSBQditmUTHgQQEz1HXT12_VP5v1K0x0CUPJI/s400/conscience.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133097308959872466" /></a><br />It's been raining the whole day. It was rather cold and AJ and I snuggled in the cab waiting for passengers as we exited the building where the Korean Agency is. That's where my boss wires the money to pay our teachers' services in this company. As the cab motioned, a faint perturbance grew in me seeing how the driver looked. He didn't seem trustworthy. He was a dumpy man in his forty's and his face didn't show any sight of amiability. He looked stern and cold.<br /><br />"One of those haughty drivers who skillfully prey on uncomplaining passengers by rerouting and speeding up the tick of the meter." I thought. Had it not been raining, I would have told AJ to take another cab. Once inside, the driver mumbled something in disgust knowing we had to take the jam-packed road en route to the office. He had no choice.<br /><br />Upon our return to the office, AJ helped me sort out the teacher's individual pay by sealing them in small brown envelopes. He had to leave right away to deposit some cash to Christian's bank account. (He is my driver brother.) It's Byron's birthday next week, my youngest brother and it's been a while we haven't talked, not even texted. <br /><br />I thought it befitting to send him some cash for his birthday. I know he had been bugging me a year ago about buying him an MP3 player but at his age, I just realized that he could buy what he wants with the petty cash.<br /><br />I don't like to surmise it as a bribe for the broken promise I made him. He has been bumming around at home though I know how eager he is to go to school. It has been two years since the promise, If I only had supported him to the hilt, he would have been a second year student by now. Will he accept my gift? I feel heavy for having deprived him of going to school with his closest friends. That's what he wanted, enrolling in a college with his contemporaries. Now, he is left behind and all I think in regrets is how I have been as a brother to him. I feel that I ruined his future. His chance to have made his future brighter was dimmed by my mistake in the past. I had gambled his tuition fee and the sharp twinge of conscience continues to haunt me. <br /><br />I'd better have some beers to get over this, for the meantime.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-53447612812058704112007-11-14T02:32:00.000-08:002007-11-16T03:11:50.190-08:00Caught -The conclusion of the previous post<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com/"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVzzbDzEZpHc002Egw7fl48nz_qikiZXHKaEY_j15ekS7D-GCzl3MnM853-wHIvxDbqdcAnClYzlV8dIHjBn_AvCdWGCsOoDKKDDvDjP_M0Ja9oZZIrWCZR_o0bylSioUKBmx9nrjheDw/s400/caught.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132743081441968610" border="0" /></a><br />The man in his twenty's was wearing a pair of blue denim pants and a blue, checked short-sleeved polo shirt. His sight oozed a certain charm in his facade, a virile man at the height of almost 6 feet. He held a Manila envelope and laid it on the table as he took a seat. He turned his head and gave a quick look around. He pulled out a neatly folded hanky as perspiration was pouring down his face.<br /><br />It was extremely hot in the lunchroom as it was getting more crowded. He wiped his sweat, fixed his tousled shirt and surveyed the room just like a first-timer. He saw me glaring at him but he didn't bother. At first, it didn't strike me that this guy was a good object for this animal lust in me. (At least for my eyes and wildest imagination.)<br /><br />I think I had forgotten my craving of the daily gossips and the hunger marching in my stomach earlier was put to a halt. His well-built muscle in the arms and his luscious derriere which I prioritized to peek at when he stood craning his neck to look for a more convenient spot, thrilled the hormones in me. I looked at him again, this time sizing up the contour of his face and the complexion of his body. He's got a well-toned skin judging on his arms alone. And though he displayed a bit of a chubby face, his shaved head proved befitting to compensate for that. He's definitely not my ideal type of man but he could be my daylight fantasy.<br /><br />In the middle of my woolgathering, he suddenly rose and loped towards the counter. He caught me reading him so I had to pretend I was reading the newspaper. His second look was certainly meaningful. He figured I was gay especially when one of Ate Liza's servers started calling me "Sis." While reading, I couldn't avoid leering at him as he got back to his seat. I got the feeling that he was still looking at me wanting to give me that straight-in-the-eyes confrontation, as if he wanted to ask me something perhaps, "Do you like me? Why are you staring at me like that?" The simple thought of that aroused the weakness in me. <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" >Handsome men are my weakness.<br /></span><br />A well of blood started to gather around my face. I was blushing and he knew I had been looking at him all the while. I couldn't look straight at him anymore, I stooped lower, closer to the newspaper which I actually wasn't reading at all because I was reading him. While avoiding any eye contact that could worsen my humiliation, my mind kept trying to envision a guy near the entrance wearing a blue polo shirt. I lifted the paper gradually upward 'til it was covering my face. More than twenty minutes had gone without looking at his direction, I was able to gather my strength, my face still tinted with the mark of embarrassment.<br /><br />When the flurry of activity in the cafeteria had lessened, I braved my eyes to finally throw a glimpse at his direction, if he was still there. To my relief, he was gone and I saw a scrawny guy wearing a blue scruffy shirt instead from the printing press who took on his seat there. I went to Ate Liza and asked about this guy who momentarily satisfied my fantasy. "He has gone. He didn't find what he wanted to eat so he left right away." "WHAT?!"LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-67602546839886126272007-11-13T08:12:00.000-08:002007-11-13T09:34:25.711-08:00Gotcha!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSujfMmiq56etuvmDVzhKrNs6O3y23vJsmNDXCPhhNy6KNFXTIuiBNhH__MDQlqzY7x7l5Hv60wjY6wW6UVhzKVHHQkPfd7ldwacpdj-uFBXg4XMw9sOF8X_YadFm1TzpX7mbdjZI3n48Q/s400/leering.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132372631299220002" /></a><br />The sunray was already filtering through my window when I decided to get up. I sank in bed late last night and I just had another nightmare. But it's not the one that leaves you gasping for breath nor the one that puts you gaping with your restricted howl.<br /><br />Must be a good day for me as I examined myself in the mirror. The bulged wound on my lip has shrunken and I felt heaven. It was terrible the past days, avoiding to eat this 'n that and being restrained by AJ from smoking ,albeit I thought it was a blessing in disguise to remind me of how long I have been a smoker and it's about time I cut the addiction. I have been so dependent on cigarettes and I am just so desperate to make attempts at quitting. I have tried tapering off to no avail. I went cold turkey but it was just a cycle. Now I still suck up on these cancer sticks.<br /><br />After making myself freshly clean and neat, I dashed for my station, turned on my PC and disappeared moments later for a meal upstairs.<br /><br />I saw myself seated at a table next to the counter at the cafeteria. As usual the place was in a flurry and I had to wait to be served. Trying to hold my hunger, I threw a glance at the display of foods and after giving myself some assurance that I'd be served, I grabbed the tabloid(BULGAR) halfway inserted in the drawer to my right. Reading the newspaper has been a habit to satisfy my piqued curiosity of the showbiz news. In short, I love gossips and people there in the lunchroom often call me "tsismosa" (gossip monger) hehehe. <br /><br />While engrossed in today's showbiz headlines, I spotted a guy who just managed to take a seat at a table near the entrance. He must be a new customer, I thought...To be continued...LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453396022956997507.post-30908752272535620072007-11-12T08:32:00.000-08:002007-11-12T08:38:03.643-08:00Dilemma?<a href="http://itsonedollarman.blogspot.com"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXLrW2hgobRL5h5jnVdg-Etn998EuoFE2Q38RDxTDEhpO1-xgGkecx2tYibGBONjNcvqOfO-vgwqzfGzv2YSTFcEjnM0mS82PAMLGA1EYUmk4C0GjIoOKJpEnbsG9cYhAZ7MFcdV1adrs/s320/blushing.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131993815183712786" /></a><br />Today, AJ and I left the house a few minutes away from midday. The thoughts of what seemed like a confrontation with Ate Gemma persisted in my head. I kept thinking about how embarrassed I was yesterday. Did it matter if I answered or not? What would have been her reaction if I had lied? If I had told the truth I didn't have a girlfriend, would have that diminished the manliness I have been trying to project for myself after a while? Wasn't my blushing enough to keep her silent and never bother to pester me again anyway? <br /><br />'Out of the frying pan and into the fire.' This cliche should explain well of how I feel now and what I have always felt while at the pretense of cohabitating with AJ. I love him and he loves me. I want to be free but he is scared and so I am. There was a time he readied himself for the revelation but that was the time I changed my mind. I don't want to ruin the respect he has earned for himself, and attributed to him by his family and mostly his neighbors. There are just so many consequences to deal with. So long as we have each other, we'll try to deal with all these adversaries that come our way. Though it means constricting our rage of this egregious picture of sexual discrimination. <br /><br />That wasn't the first time my gender was put to test. People have always been so speculative, skeptical, of who and what I am. They might have some faint ideas but these are bridled for fear of hurting me or staving me off humiliation. On one hand, there are offendingly blunt people who want to see my embarrassment, see me contract like an anathema, laugh at the ridicule of my sexuality. I enjoyed the previous jobs I had had but I had to leave. My upbringing did not prepare me to readily ward off such innuendos. For years, I have learned how to keep the pain filtering through my human individuality. But I surely know who I am.LORD MANILA STONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08053219425242608583noreply@blogger.com12