How to move on

I 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.

1. Get back to work mode and try as much as possible to keep yourself busy.
2. Start helping your mom with the household chores on weekends.
3. Forget your boyfriend and never fall in love with another guy again.
4. Start refocusing your life and determine whether meeting a girl this time around is a possibility.
5. Always remember that life is beautiful after all, so never ever attempt at committing suicide again.
6. Try to set one goal at a time; achieve something for yourself for motivation.
7. Pray and go to church.

Just some thoughts running in my head now. There could be more though.

The Resurrection

Coming back soon. So many things to share and to talk about. Two monhts of indifference shall be several years of recovery.

Did 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.

That scared the shit out of me

Seeing 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.

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 round worm.

I was horrified by the sight of it. More so did I when saw the grotesque pictures 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.

He chided me at the onset and traced back my indulgence with street foods particularlycalamares 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.

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 combantrin 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 the medicine.

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.

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.

While I was Gone

I 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

We left for Manila on the second week of January, 2008 full of a hodgepodge of memories.

Oh, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The Reunion

Oh, Joanna just had a chat with me today through Yahoo Messenger. She is a distant friend working for care homes in Canada but no matter how many miles apart we are due to inevitable circumstances in life, she is always dear in my heart.

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.

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.

After the duck hunt, a reunion with my family was about to unfold.

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 Brandon (Kuya M's younger brother) up until around ten p.m that night.

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.

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.

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.

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.