Sometimes it would cross my mind - Galit ba si Jesus sa mayayaman? (Is Jesus angry at wealthy people?) or at another point, now that I live quite comfortably, am I doomed?
But then again, he never really says anything to that effect, unlike the way he calls out Pharisees and Scribes as hypocrites. In direct reference to wealth, "It is harder for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God than for a camel to pass the eye of the needle." He didn't say impossible. He didn't say that rich men cannot enter the Kingdom of God. He just says that is very difficult.
When I read the Gospels, I see a very real and deep concern and compassion for the poor, the powerless. They live at the fringes of society, at the fringes of the consciousness of those who are comfortable. We get reminded of them in the news, maybe in cinema and TV, too. My nephew, who grew up in New Zealand, was surprised at the 'poverty' he saw on the streets, so real and so.. Near and proximate. That is something he never saw in Auckland.
But Jesus never forgets the poor and underprivileged. Because hunger and thirst, or material poverty, is the surest was to 'break a man's spirit'. When one's circumstances cannot be changed, when no amount of hard work can make one eat a little better the next day, when hope is disappearing that one will have 'better life someday', that is the most depressing state for a human being. At that moment, his will to live, his 'spirit' is crushed. How could one go on living?
Jesus sees that brokenness, and he is so moved by it. And in response, He declares "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." There is hope. The Kingdom of Heaven, not of Earth, is already theirs. It is not so dire after all. One may be hungry at the present time, but just keep on persevering, justice will be served eventually.
That brokenness is not exclusive to those who are materially poor. We have all experienced being broken in spirit at one time or another. A career failure, a heartache, a death of a loved one. These circumstances just crush us. And we feel the hopelessness. In that brokenness, Jesus also speaks to us. We, who may be comfortable "and filled", are also included in that 'blessing'. We realize that all our material wealth does nothing to lift our spirits. Only when put our Hope in Him and his promise of the Kingdom of Heaven will we ever find solace.
However, we rarely experience that brokenness. We delude ourselves into thinking that with enough money, with enough wealth, we can be comfortable and never be 'broken in spirit.' That is the reason why it becomes so much harder for the rich man to enter the Kingdom of God. We put our hope in the things of this world, not in Him.
The challenge then is to realize that at a certain level, we are 'broken in spirit'. That is the challenge that can be met only by humbling ourselves willfully, that despite the comforts of life we can enjoy, we are still 'poor in spirit', we are nothing. Those who are materially in poverty are way ahead of us because their brokenness is with them everyday. So they turn to Him everyday, not like us. We forget often.
The difficulties I face at work has led me to feel that brokenness. I am broken in spirit. I acknowledge that I failed in so many respects. I have been humbled and crushed. I say this now, acknowledging my weakness, my poverty in spirit.
But in this broken state of spirit, I have turned to Jesus, everyday. I finally saw how prayer is helping me turn my spirit around. I have started to pray a bit more, acknowledging to Him that I cannot do this on my own. That I need Him to show me how to re-build this company.
Slowly, surely, He has started to! Dahan-dahan may nangyayari. Dahan-dahan nagkakaroon ng liwanag. Napaparating niya sa akin ang mga dapat kong asikasuhin. Binibigyan niya ako ng mga pagkakataon, opportunities that I can only describe as 'miraculous' to start to turn things around. Hindi lang mabilisan. Sa tamang panahon.
That is my learning for this Christmas - not be distracted by the material wealth, the pleasures that I will enjoy this season. I need to be reminded of the poverty in spirit that I share with those who are truly less fortunate than me. I wish to always acknowledge that brokenness because only then will I realize that there is really hope in Jesus, Jesus who's birthday the world will be celebrating this Friday.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Sunday, November 29, 2015
My Shemitah
It started with family discussions over dinner regarding end-of-days predictions on September, specifically September 23. Again, people online have been sharing news from different sources. Asteroid crash, stock market crash, another 911, etc. etc. We've all heard it before. And it was on the news again. One of those struck my fancy - those related to Shemitah.
I won't go into the details. Just click the link to get to the long video where this techpreneur explains it. Shemitah Exposed
Of course, none of the predictions came to pass. But somehow, the concept made an impact on me, on gullible me. LOL (I actually pulled out some of my dollars and changed this to local currency, right as the rate started going south.)
Every seven years, there is a period of cleansing, when life as one knows it, needs to be re-ordered, re-balanced. It is so biblical. The seventh batch of seven years, the change is even more profound. That's 49 years total. That is exactly my age right now. So I am particularly reflective on this personal Shemitah.
Before I turn 5 decades early next year, I have started to do some re-ordering. I decided to end my service at the parish. I will stop my teaching sideline, something I have been doing for... yes, you guessed it, 7 years. The biggest change will happen with work. That is something beyond my control, and yet it will happen this year, too. So neatly woven, don't you think?
But I have also resolved to maintain certain things in my life, like working out and trying to be fit and healthy. That is here to stay, even if I will never achieve the hotbod... ever. The pursuit of the ideal is enough for me to keep it going, on and on.
My practice of the Catholic Faith is another one. Even as I left parish service, I feel that I would be end up still being 'of service' through a different ministry.
My service to my family, my parents is both a responsibility and a privilege. I am honored to be the only one among the siblings left here in 'Pinas to take care of them. Funny that recently, I got invited to be ninong at not just one but two weddings of young men whose moms I just know casually or professionally. They approached me, requesting to be a ninong to their sons because they loved that I take care of my folks (as I post on my FB). Hahaha
It will not be 'business as usual' when I turn gold next year. I still don't know what form my life would take after 2016. But oddly, I am excited and at peace with it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I won't go into the details. Just click the link to get to the long video where this techpreneur explains it. Shemitah Exposed
Of course, none of the predictions came to pass. But somehow, the concept made an impact on me, on gullible me. LOL (I actually pulled out some of my dollars and changed this to local currency, right as the rate started going south.)
Every seven years, there is a period of cleansing, when life as one knows it, needs to be re-ordered, re-balanced. It is so biblical. The seventh batch of seven years, the change is even more profound. That's 49 years total. That is exactly my age right now. So I am particularly reflective on this personal Shemitah.
Before I turn 5 decades early next year, I have started to do some re-ordering. I decided to end my service at the parish. I will stop my teaching sideline, something I have been doing for... yes, you guessed it, 7 years. The biggest change will happen with work. That is something beyond my control, and yet it will happen this year, too. So neatly woven, don't you think?
But I have also resolved to maintain certain things in my life, like working out and trying to be fit and healthy. That is here to stay, even if I will never achieve the hotbod... ever. The pursuit of the ideal is enough for me to keep it going, on and on.
My practice of the Catholic Faith is another one. Even as I left parish service, I feel that I would be end up still being 'of service' through a different ministry.
My service to my family, my parents is both a responsibility and a privilege. I am honored to be the only one among the siblings left here in 'Pinas to take care of them. Funny that recently, I got invited to be ninong at not just one but two weddings of young men whose moms I just know casually or professionally. They approached me, requesting to be a ninong to their sons because they loved that I take care of my folks (as I post on my FB). Hahaha
It will not be 'business as usual' when I turn gold next year. I still don't know what form my life would take after 2016. But oddly, I am excited and at peace with it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, October 30, 2015
Throwback: Post fr 2007, preparing for NYC
I was so excited as I planned for my first time in NYC. I was so concerned about what outfits to wear. LOL.
Almost 8 years ago to the day when that post when up. Expect more reminiscing...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Almost 8 years ago to the day when that post when up. Expect more reminiscing...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Autumn Break
Back in the East Coast after hmm.. 7 years! I planned this trip in February. I knew I wanted to see autumn colors again and visit my sister, based in NJ.
The foliage did not disappoint as I arrived last week. Over the weekend, we (my Ate, nephew and I) drove to Boston, Massachusetts. The vistas were stunning driving over there. From afar, the hills looked filled with color cotton balls in the most gorgeous palette. I drove halfway going there and back (4 1/2 hours leisurely with stops). I enjoyed driving at the speeds required here. Somehow, it doesn't tire you as much.
On the way to Boston, we dropped by Yale in Connecticut. I bought Yale shirts as I've started to collect shirts from the 'famous' universities in the US. (not necessarily the Ivy League because this really started with my trip to Stanford in 2013). Of course in Boston, I had to get shirts from MIT and Harvard.
Ahhh. MIT. I once dreamt of taking my masters there. This was when I was still teaching in UP. I wanted to get into the Brain and Neuroscience program. But sadly, I didn't make the cut. I love that a huge part of the campus is along the river.
Harvard is so touristy. Poor students. Haha It is a bit more dense, with the beautiful old buildings sitting close to each other.
On the last night in Boston, I checked out the top gay club (according to the site gayboston), Club Cafe. It was easy to get to, using the "T" (that's the nickname for their subway system). I liked the place, with a section for dining and a bar for drinking. Then, a part opens up to be an open area, a dance floor, if you must. Very mixed crowd of LGBT including straights. Best part was that they were playing diva music that Saturday night. That was fun.
Now, it's back "home", in my sister's place in New Jersey. It's one of those small commuter towns, quaint actually. I've chosen to just relax at home, catch up on TV shows and blog. I don't want to pressure myself to do the tourist things here or up in NY. I'll just take it easy. Yes, it is my autumn break.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The foliage did not disappoint as I arrived last week. Over the weekend, we (my Ate, nephew and I) drove to Boston, Massachusetts. The vistas were stunning driving over there. From afar, the hills looked filled with color cotton balls in the most gorgeous palette. I drove halfway going there and back (4 1/2 hours leisurely with stops). I enjoyed driving at the speeds required here. Somehow, it doesn't tire you as much.
On the way to Boston, we dropped by Yale in Connecticut. I bought Yale shirts as I've started to collect shirts from the 'famous' universities in the US. (not necessarily the Ivy League because this really started with my trip to Stanford in 2013). Of course in Boston, I had to get shirts from MIT and Harvard.
Ahhh. MIT. I once dreamt of taking my masters there. This was when I was still teaching in UP. I wanted to get into the Brain and Neuroscience program. But sadly, I didn't make the cut. I love that a huge part of the campus is along the river.
Harvard is so touristy. Poor students. Haha It is a bit more dense, with the beautiful old buildings sitting close to each other.
On the last night in Boston, I checked out the top gay club (according to the site gayboston), Club Cafe. It was easy to get to, using the "T" (that's the nickname for their subway system). I liked the place, with a section for dining and a bar for drinking. Then, a part opens up to be an open area, a dance floor, if you must. Very mixed crowd of LGBT including straights. Best part was that they were playing diva music that Saturday night. That was fun.
Now, it's back "home", in my sister's place in New Jersey. It's one of those small commuter towns, quaint actually. I've chosen to just relax at home, catch up on TV shows and blog. I don't want to pressure myself to do the tourist things here or up in NY. I'll just take it easy. Yes, it is my autumn break.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, September 19, 2015
an FB on FB 2
Lucas switched the chat off and prepared for his meet-up.
He arrived at the gym early. He needed to put in some cardio before meeting up. And may be a side trip to the steam room "to open up his pores."
Still sweating from that treadmill run, Lucas stripped to his undies and wrapped the towel around him. He checked his body in the mirror. He can't get rid of those love handles, much as he tried. He lowered the towel to show a bit more of his torso. He took a short shower and stepped into the steam room. Empty. Which is fine. His pores needed cleansing anyway.
He sat on a second level and just relaxed his body. The steam temperature was just right. He closed his eyes and tried to practice some breathing technique, some mindfulness. But that was interrupted when the door opened and young twink (again!) walked in, also in a towel-wrap.
He sat opposite Lucas and tried to look like he was concentrating on the steam. But Lucas caught casually looking his way. Then he realized that with his legs spread open, young twink could actually see his groin. The thought excited him. He decided to play coy but allowed twink to get a glimpse of his cock.
He didn't stare at twink and just continued closing his eyes or doing some stretches, seemingly unmindful that his cock and balls were so visible to twink. He could see how twink is totally absorbed in trying to get a better view. He totally liked the feeling of being watched.
He tried to will an erection. That would have been a great show for twink. But none happened. It was just getting too hot. He had to cut his show short. Twink looked disappointed as he got up and left the steam room.
He checked the time. It was 10 minutes after the appointed meeting time. He hurriedly dressed up, got his stuff and went to the members common area. He immediately saw his newest FB 'friend', Jav, sitting on a chair, checking on his phone. He looked up, saw Lucas and broke into a big smile.
He approached Jav and threw his bag on one of the vacant chairs.
At the very least, Jav is no poser. His pics on FB were totally truthful. And yes, he was quite a twink. He wondered if he had enough strength in him to give him a massage.
"Hey, Lucas. I'm Jav."
"Hello Jav."
"So are you going to get up and go somewhere?" Jav mockingly asked, smiling.
"Uhmm No. Not all." He liked what he saw. Jav was cute, had a nice smile. And he looked honest and real.
"So do we go to your place now?"
"Sure. Hang on. I'll just get my drink." He ordered a fruit shake to go.
They both have cars so Lucas had to follow him to his condo. He was putting himself in the mood by playing his 'sex' playlist.
He parked on the street across the entrance. He waited for Jav at the lobby. It was one of the better-run older condos in Makati. The kid must be from an old rich family to afford something like this.
When they got to the unit, Jav quickly showed him to his bedroom. "I'll bring in some water."
Very thoughtful, he thought sarcastically as he stepped inside the bedroom. Not too big, as one would expect from condos, but it had its own toilet and bath. No wonder this guy brings tricks home, he thought.
Soon, Jav was back with a jug of water and two glasses, which he put on his study desk.
"Do you like to take a bath first?"
"No. Not really. Got to the gym ahead of you and was able to shower up."
"Ok. Well, if you want to start..."
"Jav, I am expecting a good massage. You made me expect."
Jav laughed a bit. "Of course. And I will deliver. Wait a sec." He went inside the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He got out, already in his boxers and a white tank top. 'He even looks the part', Lucas said to himself.
"Please feel comfortable." as he handed him the towel.
Lucas got up and started to undress. He knew Jav was watching him intently but he didn't mind. He already put on a show for someone else earlier. He removed his shirt and pants, and was down to his undies.
"Do I?" he asked Jav.
"Whatever makes you feel comfortable."
Lucas first sat on the bed and waited for instruction. Jav made him lie on his belly on the bed. He proceeded by massaging his back. "Tell me if the pressure is too much or too little."
"Uhmm well you can increase it a bit. I prefer hard."
"Ok."
The strokes felt like the result of some training, Lucas thought. He seemed to be doing the right moves. Though he was certainly not conscious of the time nor the 'symmetry', forgetting to do some strokes on one side or the other. But as he massaged his back, he actually started to relax and enjoy it.
"I might doze off" he murmured.
"No problem." as Jav continued his pressure.
Soon, Jav's hands were already at his hip area, and massaging the top of his underwear.
"I'll remove this so we don't get oil on it." he whispered to Lucas.
Lucas actually dozed off and was awakened by the whisper and the weight of Jay's hips on his ass.
"Ok."
Jav sprayed some alcohol on his palms before proceeding to remove Lucas underwear. He was quite methodical about, and didn't seem to care that Lucas' nice ass was now totally bare. He applied oil again and started to massage his butt. Lucas was awake now, trying to sense if Jav was starting to 'make the moves'. At first, there seemed to be a deliberate attempt not to get too near the hole.
Then he felt a finger or two straying into the asshole, almost furtively. Lucas started to feel aroused. His cock, in an awkward position as he had his weight on it, struggled to become erect. He tried to adjust by raising his hips.
Meanwhile, Jav moved to his left thigh. And as he stroked the length from the back of the knee to the butt area, Lucas felt his fingers touching his balls. At first it was his fingertips. But soon enough, fingers were gently gracing his testicles, and his cock was now in full erection.
He sensed that Jav was already concentrating on the area. He then felt Jav's hand totally slide under his thigh and grope his cock. That excited him. It seemed that Jav got really aroused to as he asked Lucas to turn-over.
He got into the position and was now lying on his back. He kept his eyes closed, wanting to just feel what Jav was going to do next.
A wet mouth was now slowly engulfing his straining dick. He could feel the tongue flicking about around his cockhead. Lucas wanted to tell him to continue the massage but the sucking was just too good. He finally opened his eyes and saw Lucas totally enjoying giving him head. He was so into it, he had his eyes closed as he blew, and sucked and licked. Soon Jav straightened up and stood by the bed. He took off his tank top and shorts to reveal a hard cock pointing almost straight up.
He grabbed rubber and lube and got back to the bed. Expertly, he placed the rubber on Lucas cock and secured. He looked at him and smiled as he also applied lube on the cock. He gave it a few strokes before getting into the position.
He guided Lucas' cock into his lubricated asshole very slowly. Lucas could see Jav's butt slowly descend on the erect dick, even as Jay looked like he was wincing from the pain. Finally he had all inside. Lucas tried to thrust his hips upward but Jav pushed it back.
"Slowly, please"
Lucas let him set the pace. He raised his butt and lowered it again. Slowly at first. Then eventually, as the hole relaxed, Lucas started to pump. Jav still had his eyes closed, but was eventually letting Lucas to pump him.
Lucas was getting really into it, getting wilder. He sat up and embraced Jav. They kissed long. Their tongues were darting inside and out of their mouths. The heat inside them was rising to the surface.Lucas bit Jay's lip as he still continued pumping from the sitting position.
He then told Jav to lie on the bed this time. This was his favorite position. He lifted Jav's left leg and guided his cock into the asshole. He pounded and pounded on the ass. He reached over and kissed Jav, who still had his eyes closed, but was now furiously jerking his own cock. He bit him on the neck as he continue the motion, getting more and more urgent.
They were both sweating now, despite the a/c on. He made Jav lie on his side, as Lucas entered him from behind, still lifting his other leg up for better access. The momentum was building up.
"ahh ahh I'm getting there." murmured Jav.
He turned him around and made him lie on his back again. This time, he raised both Jays' feet, pushed a pillow underneath then proceeded to fuck him harder.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh shit." Jav started to shoot his load on his chest, even up to his neck the cum hit. Then Lucas just let go and drove his cock deep into that ass as he released wave after wave of jism into him. It was one amazing orgasm that took all his energy.
He slumped on top of Jav, and left his cock inside. As it softened, Jay's asshole slowly ejected it out. He felt so drained as he felt Jav's arms embrace him.
After a few moments, he pulled himself out and laid beside Jay. He was still panting.
"Do you want to take a shower?"
"Yeah.. in a while."
"Ok, rest here while I take a bath first."
Jav stood up and handed him a box of tissues. He pulled one out and wrapped it around his rubbered cock. He carefully removed the condom and used more tissues to wrap it.
When he felt more rested, he heard the shower still on as Jav took a bath. He looked around and saw that it was actually quite a nice bedroom, nicely decorated. The kid's got taste, he thought to himself.
Jav entered the bedroom still toweling his hair.
"You are so hot and horny." he said as he laughed.
"That goes for you, too."
"You can take any towel on the stand. They're all clean."
Lucas got up, still butt naked as he walked to the shower. He threw the used rubber in the trash bin inside the toilet. He showered off quite quickly and got back to the bedroom.
"That was great, Jav. You are quite a fuck. But your massage is bitin."
Jav laughed hard. "Sorry, I didn't finish it. Got too uhmm excited."
Lucas laughed, too. "I ain't sorry. It's been a while since I've had a good fuck."
"We can do it again."
"Fuck buddies?"
"Yeah, why not? Partner won't mind. FB is fuck buddy for us."
"Great. But I still demand a massage every time."
"Hahaha Ok. I'll try to do better."
"Just kidding. Anyway, I gotta go. Keep in touch. On FB."
"Sure."
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
He arrived at the gym early. He needed to put in some cardio before meeting up. And may be a side trip to the steam room "to open up his pores."
Still sweating from that treadmill run, Lucas stripped to his undies and wrapped the towel around him. He checked his body in the mirror. He can't get rid of those love handles, much as he tried. He lowered the towel to show a bit more of his torso. He took a short shower and stepped into the steam room. Empty. Which is fine. His pores needed cleansing anyway.
He sat on a second level and just relaxed his body. The steam temperature was just right. He closed his eyes and tried to practice some breathing technique, some mindfulness. But that was interrupted when the door opened and young twink (again!) walked in, also in a towel-wrap.
He sat opposite Lucas and tried to look like he was concentrating on the steam. But Lucas caught casually looking his way. Then he realized that with his legs spread open, young twink could actually see his groin. The thought excited him. He decided to play coy but allowed twink to get a glimpse of his cock.
He didn't stare at twink and just continued closing his eyes or doing some stretches, seemingly unmindful that his cock and balls were so visible to twink. He could see how twink is totally absorbed in trying to get a better view. He totally liked the feeling of being watched.
He tried to will an erection. That would have been a great show for twink. But none happened. It was just getting too hot. He had to cut his show short. Twink looked disappointed as he got up and left the steam room.
He checked the time. It was 10 minutes after the appointed meeting time. He hurriedly dressed up, got his stuff and went to the members common area. He immediately saw his newest FB 'friend', Jav, sitting on a chair, checking on his phone. He looked up, saw Lucas and broke into a big smile.
He approached Jav and threw his bag on one of the vacant chairs.
At the very least, Jav is no poser. His pics on FB were totally truthful. And yes, he was quite a twink. He wondered if he had enough strength in him to give him a massage.
"Hey, Lucas. I'm Jav."
"Hello Jav."
"So are you going to get up and go somewhere?" Jav mockingly asked, smiling.
"Uhmm No. Not all." He liked what he saw. Jav was cute, had a nice smile. And he looked honest and real.
"So do we go to your place now?"
"Sure. Hang on. I'll just get my drink." He ordered a fruit shake to go.
They both have cars so Lucas had to follow him to his condo. He was putting himself in the mood by playing his 'sex' playlist.
He parked on the street across the entrance. He waited for Jav at the lobby. It was one of the better-run older condos in Makati. The kid must be from an old rich family to afford something like this.
When they got to the unit, Jav quickly showed him to his bedroom. "I'll bring in some water."
Very thoughtful, he thought sarcastically as he stepped inside the bedroom. Not too big, as one would expect from condos, but it had its own toilet and bath. No wonder this guy brings tricks home, he thought.
Soon, Jav was back with a jug of water and two glasses, which he put on his study desk.
"Do you like to take a bath first?"
"No. Not really. Got to the gym ahead of you and was able to shower up."
"Ok. Well, if you want to start..."
"Jav, I am expecting a good massage. You made me expect."
Jav laughed a bit. "Of course. And I will deliver. Wait a sec." He went inside the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He got out, already in his boxers and a white tank top. 'He even looks the part', Lucas said to himself.
"Please feel comfortable." as he handed him the towel.
Lucas got up and started to undress. He knew Jav was watching him intently but he didn't mind. He already put on a show for someone else earlier. He removed his shirt and pants, and was down to his undies.
"Do I?" he asked Jav.
"Whatever makes you feel comfortable."
Lucas first sat on the bed and waited for instruction. Jav made him lie on his belly on the bed. He proceeded by massaging his back. "Tell me if the pressure is too much or too little."
"Uhmm well you can increase it a bit. I prefer hard."
"Ok."
The strokes felt like the result of some training, Lucas thought. He seemed to be doing the right moves. Though he was certainly not conscious of the time nor the 'symmetry', forgetting to do some strokes on one side or the other. But as he massaged his back, he actually started to relax and enjoy it.
"I might doze off" he murmured.
"No problem." as Jav continued his pressure.
Soon, Jav's hands were already at his hip area, and massaging the top of his underwear.
"I'll remove this so we don't get oil on it." he whispered to Lucas.
Lucas actually dozed off and was awakened by the whisper and the weight of Jay's hips on his ass.
"Ok."
Jav sprayed some alcohol on his palms before proceeding to remove Lucas underwear. He was quite methodical about, and didn't seem to care that Lucas' nice ass was now totally bare. He applied oil again and started to massage his butt. Lucas was awake now, trying to sense if Jav was starting to 'make the moves'. At first, there seemed to be a deliberate attempt not to get too near the hole.
Then he felt a finger or two straying into the asshole, almost furtively. Lucas started to feel aroused. His cock, in an awkward position as he had his weight on it, struggled to become erect. He tried to adjust by raising his hips.
Meanwhile, Jav moved to his left thigh. And as he stroked the length from the back of the knee to the butt area, Lucas felt his fingers touching his balls. At first it was his fingertips. But soon enough, fingers were gently gracing his testicles, and his cock was now in full erection.
He sensed that Jav was already concentrating on the area. He then felt Jav's hand totally slide under his thigh and grope his cock. That excited him. It seemed that Jav got really aroused to as he asked Lucas to turn-over.
He got into the position and was now lying on his back. He kept his eyes closed, wanting to just feel what Jav was going to do next.
A wet mouth was now slowly engulfing his straining dick. He could feel the tongue flicking about around his cockhead. Lucas wanted to tell him to continue the massage but the sucking was just too good. He finally opened his eyes and saw Lucas totally enjoying giving him head. He was so into it, he had his eyes closed as he blew, and sucked and licked. Soon Jav straightened up and stood by the bed. He took off his tank top and shorts to reveal a hard cock pointing almost straight up.
He grabbed rubber and lube and got back to the bed. Expertly, he placed the rubber on Lucas cock and secured. He looked at him and smiled as he also applied lube on the cock. He gave it a few strokes before getting into the position.
He guided Lucas' cock into his lubricated asshole very slowly. Lucas could see Jav's butt slowly descend on the erect dick, even as Jay looked like he was wincing from the pain. Finally he had all inside. Lucas tried to thrust his hips upward but Jav pushed it back.
"Slowly, please"
Lucas let him set the pace. He raised his butt and lowered it again. Slowly at first. Then eventually, as the hole relaxed, Lucas started to pump. Jav still had his eyes closed, but was eventually letting Lucas to pump him.
Lucas was getting really into it, getting wilder. He sat up and embraced Jav. They kissed long. Their tongues were darting inside and out of their mouths. The heat inside them was rising to the surface.Lucas bit Jay's lip as he still continued pumping from the sitting position.
He then told Jav to lie on the bed this time. This was his favorite position. He lifted Jav's left leg and guided his cock into the asshole. He pounded and pounded on the ass. He reached over and kissed Jav, who still had his eyes closed, but was now furiously jerking his own cock. He bit him on the neck as he continue the motion, getting more and more urgent.
They were both sweating now, despite the a/c on. He made Jav lie on his side, as Lucas entered him from behind, still lifting his other leg up for better access. The momentum was building up.
"ahh ahh I'm getting there." murmured Jav.
He turned him around and made him lie on his back again. This time, he raised both Jays' feet, pushed a pillow underneath then proceeded to fuck him harder.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh shit." Jav started to shoot his load on his chest, even up to his neck the cum hit. Then Lucas just let go and drove his cock deep into that ass as he released wave after wave of jism into him. It was one amazing orgasm that took all his energy.
He slumped on top of Jav, and left his cock inside. As it softened, Jay's asshole slowly ejected it out. He felt so drained as he felt Jav's arms embrace him.
After a few moments, he pulled himself out and laid beside Jay. He was still panting.
"Do you want to take a shower?"
"Yeah.. in a while."
"Ok, rest here while I take a bath first."
Jav stood up and handed him a box of tissues. He pulled one out and wrapped it around his rubbered cock. He carefully removed the condom and used more tissues to wrap it.
When he felt more rested, he heard the shower still on as Jav took a bath. He looked around and saw that it was actually quite a nice bedroom, nicely decorated. The kid's got taste, he thought to himself.
Jav entered the bedroom still toweling his hair.
"You are so hot and horny." he said as he laughed.
"That goes for you, too."
"You can take any towel on the stand. They're all clean."
Lucas got up, still butt naked as he walked to the shower. He threw the used rubber in the trash bin inside the toilet. He showered off quite quickly and got back to the bedroom.
"That was great, Jav. You are quite a fuck. But your massage is bitin."
Jav laughed hard. "Sorry, I didn't finish it. Got too uhmm excited."
Lucas laughed, too. "I ain't sorry. It's been a while since I've had a good fuck."
"We can do it again."
"Fuck buddies?"
"Yeah, why not? Partner won't mind. FB is fuck buddy for us."
"Great. But I still demand a massage every time."
"Hahaha Ok. I'll try to do better."
"Just kidding. Anyway, I gotta go. Keep in touch. On FB."
"Sure."
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, September 17, 2015
an FB on FB 1
Lucas first met him on social media, a seemingly random "add friend" notification. He checked the profile pic. Hmm. Not bad at all. Cute twink actually. He had nice pair of doe eyes, and a set of dimples. Have they met? He didn't think he looked familiar at all. He checked out more of the photos. Yes, definitely a twink. Not that he's into twinks. But good looks in the face department trumps body type. And something about twinks make them so... bottom-able. LOL
He is no power top. His definition of sex doesn't include anal penetration. Maybe it's a throwback to a time when fellatio was the ultimate sexual activity among men. Yeah, he's big about sucking. He loves receiving and giving head. He gets turned on seeing someone burying his face into his crotch. Better yet, some handsome face slowly licking his cockhead and engulfing his boner, inch by inch. Head trip.
Of course he loves giving head, too. He enjoys seeing a juicy cock staring at him, teasing him with that piss slit. He loves the feeling of taking a big one in, all the way. He has mastered the art without gagging, of actually feeling the tip of the head bang against his tonsils. He delights in hearing grunts and gasps of pleasure as he devours with abandon. Though sometimes he can get carried away and hurt with his teeth.
The few times he has tried anal, he quickly realized his preference for the top role. He remembered his first time to top. He was lying on his back as his partner then was giving him head. He suddenly got up, got lube and poured it on his straining dick. Slowly, his partner sat on his engorged cock. He could see him wince at the pain. But soon he had it all inside. It felt warm and.. snug. When his partner started going up and down on his dick, he started to feel the difference between a fuck and a suck. His whole cock was engaged. Each square inch was feeling the rubbing of skin and against wet, hot soft rectal tissue.
He noticed how his pelvis seemed to automatically thrust upward, without him even trying. So he asked his partner to lie down on his back and he tried to the missionary now. He raised his partner's butt with some pillows so he could angle his cock better. He held one of his legs high with one hand, and with the other, guided his cock into the asshole. The ability to control his thrusting was amazing. He was even able to kiss his partner wildly as he pushed his hips deeper and deeper into his fuckhole.
That was an amazing experience. But it didn't happen too often. His partner was so conscious of being 'clean', so he goes through the motions of douching. But because there was much effort to it, that didn't become part of the routine. It was saved for special occasions.
More so with casual one-night-stands. He chanced on one hot hook-up that turned awful because hot guy didn't prepare. Ugh. The stench. Even with a condom on, he couldn't get the smell out of his mind. Thankfully, he still managed to consummate. But that also meant that anal penetration was not going to be a regular thing. Meeting a guy ready and clean was assumed to be a rarity.
He did, however, remember that one hot encounter in a hotel gym wet floor. It started as a typical jack-off inside the wet sauna. But since there were hardly anybody in the shower stalls early afternoon, they got to continue in the shower. Dude was very lean, a twink with shaved head. But really cute. While in the shower, dude couldn't help himself. He soaped his cock and just let him fuck there, bareback. Lucas, was quite alarmed about this risky behavior but what the heck could he do? He already had his cock inside him. And again, his hips did the 'talking' and the thrusting automatically.
He was looking at the pic of this new social media friend. He wondered why he was getting all these thoughts of fucking suddenly. He didn't even know if the guy is a bottom. Anyway, he added him up. Shortly after, he got a PM.
"Hey. Thanks for adding me."
"No problem, dude. Have we met before?"
"Ah. Not really. But I see you at the gym. And when I saw you here on FB, I took a chance."
"Ah. Which branch?"
"Makati."
"Uh Ok. I'm not always there. Home branch is Greenhills."
"I noticed that. I don't always see you."
"So what's up?"
"Nothing much. Passing the time away here at home. Will gym later. You?"
"Finishing some stuff I brought home from work. And checking out FB while I'm at it."
"Cool. Multi-tasking."
"Yeah. Don't we all?"
"True. I'm looking at this TV show."
"Uh Ok. I'm checking out some of your pics. You've been traveling a lot."
"Stalking my FB, eh? Hahaha"
"Guilty as charged. Sorry."
"No apologies needed. I checked you out, too."
"haha I hope I didn't disappoint."
"I approved the request, didn't I? Besides, I'm open to meeting new friends."
"Oh. Friends-zone. LOL"
"Whoa. What did you have in mind?"
"Just kidding."
"No, seriously. I like that being up front. Straightforward."
"You're hot. Have been crushing on you at the gym."
"Bola. You flatter me."
"Let's hangout some time."
"Uhmm. I'm not the hanging out type. Got my friends for that. Besides, I might be going for a massage later."
"Massage, I can do that."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. I actually studied that for a while."
"You are pulling my leg so you can have your hand on my leg. Joke"
"No. I kid not. Online course. Because partner wanted it then."
"Partner?"
"Yeah. Open one, if that's what you're really asking."
"Amazing."
"I can give you a massage."
"I will not refuse that."
"Cool. Let's do it."
"You got a place?"
"Yeah. Share it with my sister but I got my own room."
"And you're fine doing it there."
"Sure. I bring tricks home."
"Ok. That's cool. But I'll be straightforward. If I'm not into you, no hard feelings ok? We just shake hands and I'll say something like I've got to go."
"Ok. Of course. I understand."
"Works both ways, too."
"Nah. I've seen you. I know what I want. So when?"
"Told you I was going to go for a massage later, right?"
"Yeah, right. Later then, at the gym in Makati"
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
He is no power top. His definition of sex doesn't include anal penetration. Maybe it's a throwback to a time when fellatio was the ultimate sexual activity among men. Yeah, he's big about sucking. He loves receiving and giving head. He gets turned on seeing someone burying his face into his crotch. Better yet, some handsome face slowly licking his cockhead and engulfing his boner, inch by inch. Head trip.
Of course he loves giving head, too. He enjoys seeing a juicy cock staring at him, teasing him with that piss slit. He loves the feeling of taking a big one in, all the way. He has mastered the art without gagging, of actually feeling the tip of the head bang against his tonsils. He delights in hearing grunts and gasps of pleasure as he devours with abandon. Though sometimes he can get carried away and hurt with his teeth.
The few times he has tried anal, he quickly realized his preference for the top role. He remembered his first time to top. He was lying on his back as his partner then was giving him head. He suddenly got up, got lube and poured it on his straining dick. Slowly, his partner sat on his engorged cock. He could see him wince at the pain. But soon he had it all inside. It felt warm and.. snug. When his partner started going up and down on his dick, he started to feel the difference between a fuck and a suck. His whole cock was engaged. Each square inch was feeling the rubbing of skin and against wet, hot soft rectal tissue.
He noticed how his pelvis seemed to automatically thrust upward, without him even trying. So he asked his partner to lie down on his back and he tried to the missionary now. He raised his partner's butt with some pillows so he could angle his cock better. He held one of his legs high with one hand, and with the other, guided his cock into the asshole. The ability to control his thrusting was amazing. He was even able to kiss his partner wildly as he pushed his hips deeper and deeper into his fuckhole.
That was an amazing experience. But it didn't happen too often. His partner was so conscious of being 'clean', so he goes through the motions of douching. But because there was much effort to it, that didn't become part of the routine. It was saved for special occasions.
More so with casual one-night-stands. He chanced on one hot hook-up that turned awful because hot guy didn't prepare. Ugh. The stench. Even with a condom on, he couldn't get the smell out of his mind. Thankfully, he still managed to consummate. But that also meant that anal penetration was not going to be a regular thing. Meeting a guy ready and clean was assumed to be a rarity.
He did, however, remember that one hot encounter in a hotel gym wet floor. It started as a typical jack-off inside the wet sauna. But since there were hardly anybody in the shower stalls early afternoon, they got to continue in the shower. Dude was very lean, a twink with shaved head. But really cute. While in the shower, dude couldn't help himself. He soaped his cock and just let him fuck there, bareback. Lucas, was quite alarmed about this risky behavior but what the heck could he do? He already had his cock inside him. And again, his hips did the 'talking' and the thrusting automatically.
He was looking at the pic of this new social media friend. He wondered why he was getting all these thoughts of fucking suddenly. He didn't even know if the guy is a bottom. Anyway, he added him up. Shortly after, he got a PM.
"Hey. Thanks for adding me."
"No problem, dude. Have we met before?"
"Ah. Not really. But I see you at the gym. And when I saw you here on FB, I took a chance."
"Ah. Which branch?"
"Makati."
"Uh Ok. I'm not always there. Home branch is Greenhills."
"I noticed that. I don't always see you."
"So what's up?"
"Nothing much. Passing the time away here at home. Will gym later. You?"
"Finishing some stuff I brought home from work. And checking out FB while I'm at it."
"Cool. Multi-tasking."
"Yeah. Don't we all?"
"True. I'm looking at this TV show."
"Uh Ok. I'm checking out some of your pics. You've been traveling a lot."
"Stalking my FB, eh? Hahaha"
"Guilty as charged. Sorry."
"No apologies needed. I checked you out, too."
"haha I hope I didn't disappoint."
"I approved the request, didn't I? Besides, I'm open to meeting new friends."
"Oh. Friends-zone. LOL"
"Whoa. What did you have in mind?"
"Just kidding."
"No, seriously. I like that being up front. Straightforward."
"You're hot. Have been crushing on you at the gym."
"Bola. You flatter me."
"Let's hangout some time."
"Uhmm. I'm not the hanging out type. Got my friends for that. Besides, I might be going for a massage later."
"Massage, I can do that."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. I actually studied that for a while."
"You are pulling my leg so you can have your hand on my leg. Joke"
"No. I kid not. Online course. Because partner wanted it then."
"Partner?"
"Yeah. Open one, if that's what you're really asking."
"Amazing."
"I can give you a massage."
"I will not refuse that."
"Cool. Let's do it."
"You got a place?"
"Yeah. Share it with my sister but I got my own room."
"And you're fine doing it there."
"Sure. I bring tricks home."
"Ok. That's cool. But I'll be straightforward. If I'm not into you, no hard feelings ok? We just shake hands and I'll say something like I've got to go."
"Ok. Of course. I understand."
"Works both ways, too."
"Nah. I've seen you. I know what I want. So when?"
"Told you I was going to go for a massage later, right?"
"Yeah, right. Later then, at the gym in Makati"
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Endings 2
Fabcasting is dead. There. I said it. But the Fabcasters and the Peanut Gallery, that's another matter. :-)
It has been dying a slow death, really. Podcasting, the Fabcasters' way has lived its life, full if I may say.
Lobster Tony and I were 'inducted' into the group belatedly, after the original Troikasters (Miggs, Gibbs and Mcvie) invited us to join them for a podcast on Long Distance Relationships. AJ joined after and the group was formed. That was 8 years ago.
We have covered much ground since that time, a lot of it relevant to us and to the evolving gay scene. We started inviting guests to the podcast, guests who shared their views and even personal experience on the topics. Some of them became regulars. Thus was born the Peanut Gallery.
We recorded from cafes and other public venues. But eventually, we chose private residences to control for noise. I hosted quite a few Fabcasts in my condo, then in my house when I transferred. Some have been recorded in the different condos McVie has stayed in, and in Miggs' place. Hosting a Fabcast was actually a breeze. It was usually after dinner, and all we needed was some snacks, maybe dessert and that social lubricant called alcohol.
Fabcasting was actually a wish fulfilled for me. Years and years back, I read about the 'salons' of London in the 1900's, places where groups of people, men usually, would have spirited discussions about a range of topics, from politics to philosophy to science. Such discourses honed many skills including debate, critical thought and public speaking. I longed to belong to such a group, to engage people or even to just listen to varied opinions on topics that resonated with me. Then with the invite to join that podcast, I became part of one. I was fortunate to be in the company of intelligent, inquisitive maybe even intrusive minds where nothing was sacred.
Episodes that stand out in my memory:
The first, of course, on long distance relationships, where I was so candid about being unfaithful to a partner far away. And that was my first-ever podcast. I was still getting to know McVie, Gibbs and Tony yet I was baring my relationship soul. That transpired in a little coffee shop along Panay Ave.
I don't recall fabcast titles anymore. But I remember one where we had quite a heated discussion over the possibility of having a relationship with a former sex worker. It was amazing that some of us held such strong opinions. If my memory serves me right, we were in an old house that was being rented by one of us (Miggs?).
For relevance, that discussion over May-December affairs also stands out. Most of us were involved with younger partners. And they were there to talk about their points-of-view.
I wanted to cheat by backreading my posts. But I have to be honest and these are those I still recall (core memories? LOL #insideout)
Funny, too, how some of our guests made us swoon. Hahaha. True. #kilig over more than a few, actually. Because they are attractive. They were also honest and real as we grilled them. That made them even hotter. LOL No, I will not mention them. Not even those that made an impact on me. hahaha
Then there were the parties! That little circle of the Peanut Gallery expanded. Soon, we were hosting parties to allow everyone to meet (and mate) everyone LOL. Hosting those events didn't come easy or cheap. But we were motivated anyway, especially the single ones. hahaha. There were always stories that followed each party. Stories of drunken orgies. (Joke.) Stories of drunkeness, of hookups, of throwing up. We still recall with laughter all those. And even if you attended just one or two, we will try our very best to recall you and any story related to you.
Soon enough, the Fabcasts became less and less frequent. On the surface, there were the usual reasons - other priorities like work, new relationships, etc. But we also found ourselves not having topics to cover anymore. In a moment of introspection, we felt that our latter fabcasts were more self-involved ("navel-gazing" exercises).
We look around and see that we have covered much ground, talked about many topics that we end up repeating them. Though some of them remain relevant, we didn't have anything new to add to the matter. Even 'hot topics' like same-sex marriage have been taken up.
Of course there are other things happening, issues other than those related to the "gay agenda". But there seems to be no impetus to record that. Yes, we can talk about the upcoming elections but we quickly lose the interest to sustain it as a conversation. Ultimately, Fabcasting revolved around the issues relevant to us gays. That was what we liked discussing for others to hear.
But we are only as good as the novel POV we can bring into a topic. Nobody likes a broken record; and not one that ultimately will just lead to more 'navel-gazing.'
Podcasting ala Fabcasters and the Peanut Gallery has served its purpose, at least for us within that tiny circle. It has allowed me to fulfill a wish, to meet wonderful new people, to engage and become more aware. From the feedback we have gotten, the Fabcasts did affect quite a few people out there, hopefully more positively than negatively.
So Fabcasting also ends, after 8 years or so. Paraphrasing "Wicked"... I can't say that Fabcasting has changed me for the better. But it changed me for good.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It has been dying a slow death, really. Podcasting, the Fabcasters' way has lived its life, full if I may say.
Lobster Tony and I were 'inducted' into the group belatedly, after the original Troikasters (Miggs, Gibbs and Mcvie) invited us to join them for a podcast on Long Distance Relationships. AJ joined after and the group was formed. That was 8 years ago.
We have covered much ground since that time, a lot of it relevant to us and to the evolving gay scene. We started inviting guests to the podcast, guests who shared their views and even personal experience on the topics. Some of them became regulars. Thus was born the Peanut Gallery.
We recorded from cafes and other public venues. But eventually, we chose private residences to control for noise. I hosted quite a few Fabcasts in my condo, then in my house when I transferred. Some have been recorded in the different condos McVie has stayed in, and in Miggs' place. Hosting a Fabcast was actually a breeze. It was usually after dinner, and all we needed was some snacks, maybe dessert and that social lubricant called alcohol.
Fabcasting was actually a wish fulfilled for me. Years and years back, I read about the 'salons' of London in the 1900's, places where groups of people, men usually, would have spirited discussions about a range of topics, from politics to philosophy to science. Such discourses honed many skills including debate, critical thought and public speaking. I longed to belong to such a group, to engage people or even to just listen to varied opinions on topics that resonated with me. Then with the invite to join that podcast, I became part of one. I was fortunate to be in the company of intelligent, inquisitive maybe even intrusive minds where nothing was sacred.
Episodes that stand out in my memory:
The first, of course, on long distance relationships, where I was so candid about being unfaithful to a partner far away. And that was my first-ever podcast. I was still getting to know McVie, Gibbs and Tony yet I was baring my relationship soul. That transpired in a little coffee shop along Panay Ave.
I don't recall fabcast titles anymore. But I remember one where we had quite a heated discussion over the possibility of having a relationship with a former sex worker. It was amazing that some of us held such strong opinions. If my memory serves me right, we were in an old house that was being rented by one of us (Miggs?).
For relevance, that discussion over May-December affairs also stands out. Most of us were involved with younger partners. And they were there to talk about their points-of-view.
I wanted to cheat by backreading my posts. But I have to be honest and these are those I still recall (core memories? LOL #insideout)
Funny, too, how some of our guests made us swoon. Hahaha. True. #kilig over more than a few, actually. Because they are attractive. They were also honest and real as we grilled them. That made them even hotter. LOL No, I will not mention them. Not even those that made an impact on me. hahaha
Then there were the parties! That little circle of the Peanut Gallery expanded. Soon, we were hosting parties to allow everyone to meet (and mate) everyone LOL. Hosting those events didn't come easy or cheap. But we were motivated anyway, especially the single ones. hahaha. There were always stories that followed each party. Stories of drunken orgies. (Joke.) Stories of drunkeness, of hookups, of throwing up. We still recall with laughter all those. And even if you attended just one or two, we will try our very best to recall you and any story related to you.
Soon enough, the Fabcasts became less and less frequent. On the surface, there were the usual reasons - other priorities like work, new relationships, etc. But we also found ourselves not having topics to cover anymore. In a moment of introspection, we felt that our latter fabcasts were more self-involved ("navel-gazing" exercises).
We look around and see that we have covered much ground, talked about many topics that we end up repeating them. Though some of them remain relevant, we didn't have anything new to add to the matter. Even 'hot topics' like same-sex marriage have been taken up.
Of course there are other things happening, issues other than those related to the "gay agenda". But there seems to be no impetus to record that. Yes, we can talk about the upcoming elections but we quickly lose the interest to sustain it as a conversation. Ultimately, Fabcasting revolved around the issues relevant to us gays. That was what we liked discussing for others to hear.
But we are only as good as the novel POV we can bring into a topic. Nobody likes a broken record; and not one that ultimately will just lead to more 'navel-gazing.'
Podcasting ala Fabcasters and the Peanut Gallery has served its purpose, at least for us within that tiny circle. It has allowed me to fulfill a wish, to meet wonderful new people, to engage and become more aware. From the feedback we have gotten, the Fabcasts did affect quite a few people out there, hopefully more positively than negatively.
So Fabcasting also ends, after 8 years or so. Paraphrasing "Wicked"... I can't say that Fabcasting has changed me for the better. But it changed me for good.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Endings 1
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens
Ecclesiastes 3:1
Today I served as lector for the last time at the parish. I turned in my resignation two weeks ago, to take effect on August 31, 2015. I mentioned that I would honor my August commitments. This 11am Mass was the last of those commitments.
I have probably been a member of the Word Ministry (that is what we call our group of lectors and commentators) for more than twenty years. I can’t even remember how old I was when I joined. I vaguely recall that my sister, Ate No. 4, was the first to join the Ministry, then I followed. This was probably in the late 80’s. We were part of the ‘youngblood’ that they were infusing into this apostolate. Till that time, the organization counted Blue Ladies and senior citizens as the majority of the membership. I used Blue Ladies loosely to refer to those matronly older women who go to Church everyday without fail, all coiffed and coutured. c3 would now refer to them as “Titas of Manila”. But back then, they would be Imelda Marcos’ Blue Ladies.
They are also very traditional and conservative, holdovers from a time when the Mass was still said with the priest facing the tabernacle, with his back to the congregation. They went to church with their lace belo (veils) and perfumed rosaries, blessed by Pope Paul VI. Retired or ever-homekeepers, they turned to serving the parish to make the most of idle time.
My sister and I joined the ministry surrounded by these ladies, and a few senior gentlemen. They welcomed having these young’ uns join them as they knew slowly but surely, their membership was dropping simply due to death by old age.
Eventually, more of people our age joined the organization and we grew. As it happens in organizations with two distinct groups of very different persuasions, namely the old ones, ready to defend the old order, and young ones, eager to make a difference and challenge the status quo, a power struggle evolved. I was one of the noisier ones then, and eventually, I butt heads with the president, that elderly woman who could have been a stern, strict high school principal in her demeanor. There was no major confrontation between us, just seething contempt. I abruptly resigned as I couldn’t accept her leadership. This was somewhere in the mid-90’s. That also neatly coincided with my relationship with then-boyfriend becoming open. And we indulged in the pleasures of casual sex in its myriad permutations and combinations.
That president soon resigned, although some would whisper ‘ousted’. I felt a yearning to go back so I re-applied. I was welcomed with open arms, by an organization now a lot younger and more dynamic. It was their desire to put me at the helm of the ministry. I accepted the path they laid out for me. And in about a year or two, I became president. If my memory serves me right, in my personal life, I also transitioned from that open relationship to a new one that was defined as exclusive. I found that alignment pleasing.
I enjoyed being a lector, much more than being a commentator. I honed my craft of proclamation. I practiced dutifully and made sure that I researched on the correct pronunciation of Bible names and terminologies. I would come 15 minutes early to rehearse. I felt I am able to proclaim His Word with justice. Not a few parishioners have come up to me to congratulate my style. Yes, it fed my ego.
My regular schedule would include all Fridays of the month for the 7am Masses, and two alternating Sundays for the 11am service. Admittedly though, that 7am service could be a drag, limiting my night-out options on a Thursday night. The Ministry meets every first Sunday of the month, supposedly for an hour-long meeting. But it would drag on usually for 1 1/2 hours. Again I admit that attending the meeting could be a chore at times.
I am sure everyone suspected that I am gay. I had remained single and unattached the entire time. But it was some sort of undiscussed topic, at least whenever I was around. Nobody dared to ask me anyway. So despite the Vatican's vocal pronouncements of its stand on homosexuality and homosexual acts, I felt that our own parish did not outwardly advocate condemnation. Some would call it 'tolerance' or just plain avoidance, but being quiet about the entire issue cut me some slack to continue serving and still be comfortable being gay, and being in relationships with men.
That detente continued for years and years. I felt I was serving a purpose in the parish by being a member. Beyond just being a 'good' lector, I also steered the organization into being more active, and structured. We engaged in reach-out activities, fund-raising events, apostolates that brought members closer.
But the world as we knew it continued to change, even more rapidly. Many issues Catholics have been grappling with were now being discussed - the reproductive bill, first and foremost. Our parish had to be more vocal of its own position, particularly during homilies. Though I was totally in support of the reproductive bill, I did not feel any cognitive dissonance with my service. Perhaps because I wasn't intending to 'reproduce'. hehe
Then came that SCOTUS decision in June. That issue is so central to me and my identity. I was so euphoric. Though it opened some nasty debates all over, I remained oblivious. I was happy that more and more countries were recognizing the right of same-sex couples to be married.
I was busy during our July meeting so I skipped that. I did, however, attend the August meeting. In the minutes of that meeting, our Spiritual Director was quoted
It is not called marriage because marriage is a union between man and woman with two goals: a) procreation b) foster love between couples; Sexual union is essential - the Church condemns homosexual union but not homosexuals (condemns sin but not the sinner).
I sat there stunned. This was the first time that I have ever heard any priest from our parish vocally express this official position. It felt like he was telling this to me, to my face, telling me that my homosexual union, currently with my partner, remains an abomination.
No more silence. No more avoidance. It was finally called out.
Something snapped inside and made me realize that my time of serving the parish had ended. I could no longer just turn away and act like nothing has changed. I am gay. I am in a gay relationship, with all the man-to-man sex that came with it, yes, but also with all the love and affection.
I turned in my resignation a week after. But I promised to honor my commitments.
Last Sunday was the last of those. I proclaimed the readings of that Sunday. I proclaimed them well and with.. finality. I was nostalgic throughout, knowing that I was not going to be at that rostrum again. I knew I was still going to serve Him, but in another manner perhaps. Bittersweet it was, for a moment, but in the end, I also felt so peaceful..
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Of Rites and Rituals
I remember from long ago, how Catholics were criticized as being ritualistic. We have memorized the lines and actions of Masses and novenas in observance of the prescribed rites. Because of this 'automation' we are dismissed for lacking sincerity and mindfulness when praying and worshipping. Moreover, they look at the traditions as holdovers of Roman paganism and this was something Jesus explicitly wanted to abolish.
With that in mind, some had broken away from Catholicism and set up their own groups. They started out not prescribing any set list of prayers and actions. They preferred to be spontaneous and prayed from the heart. They would 'go with the flow' and sing and pray. That was how a lot of these break-away groups started, in the 80's and well into the 90's.
Some of them remain up to this time. However, I have observed that for a lot of these groups, they have started to institutionalize their worship services. And though most of their prayers remain spontaneous, spoken by their heads and ministers, the worship activity itself has taken on form and structure, followed regularly by the members. I look at these and think that they have evolved their own rites and rituals.
I believe that rituals, institutionalized forms and activities, naturally 'come into being' in any organization. Even the most amorphous of organizations would eventually establish some regular, structured meeting, if only to be more efficient with its use of time and resources. In the readings of Friday and Saturday, the Lord God himself was prescribing the rituals to be observed by the Jews for the year, in much detail.
I didn't think Jesus was out to abolish these. He observed the rites of the Jews. He instructed his followers to follow them but not their example (of hypocrisy). He knew the need for these. And ultimately, the Last Supper was a similar prescription - "Do this in memory of me." But He did not just say "Do this." He added "..in memory of me", emphasizing the need to be "mindful" of the reason for the ritual, of the spirit behind it. This, for me, is another great example of what He meant by saying "I did not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill it."
Our formula prayers, one of which Jesus himself taught us, direct us to focus on the best way to express ourselves to our God. These were never meant to replace personal prayer, in my opinion. These were written by inspired writers to express their loving relationship with God and with the Saints. But we find such beauty in the prose, such eloquence and relevance that we could not help but adopt these as our own, to articulate our own personal relationship.
Yet, I do agree that there is a need to 'reintroduce' mindfulness in our observances. By carefully 'minding' the words in the prayers and novenas, you would delightfully come across terms that have not been in 'general circulation'. "Lamentation" "Sorrow" "banished children of Eve" "Clement" "Begotten" "Beseech" Re-discovering these terms and trying to use them in everyday language is quite a mental exercise. "I am sorrowful." "I have such a clement boss." "I beseeched my partner to watch the Madonna concert with me. " Hihihi These always make me smile.
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With that in mind, some had broken away from Catholicism and set up their own groups. They started out not prescribing any set list of prayers and actions. They preferred to be spontaneous and prayed from the heart. They would 'go with the flow' and sing and pray. That was how a lot of these break-away groups started, in the 80's and well into the 90's.
Some of them remain up to this time. However, I have observed that for a lot of these groups, they have started to institutionalize their worship services. And though most of their prayers remain spontaneous, spoken by their heads and ministers, the worship activity itself has taken on form and structure, followed regularly by the members. I look at these and think that they have evolved their own rites and rituals.
I believe that rituals, institutionalized forms and activities, naturally 'come into being' in any organization. Even the most amorphous of organizations would eventually establish some regular, structured meeting, if only to be more efficient with its use of time and resources. In the readings of Friday and Saturday, the Lord God himself was prescribing the rituals to be observed by the Jews for the year, in much detail.
I didn't think Jesus was out to abolish these. He observed the rites of the Jews. He instructed his followers to follow them but not their example (of hypocrisy). He knew the need for these. And ultimately, the Last Supper was a similar prescription - "Do this in memory of me." But He did not just say "Do this." He added "..in memory of me", emphasizing the need to be "mindful" of the reason for the ritual, of the spirit behind it. This, for me, is another great example of what He meant by saying "I did not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill it."
Our formula prayers, one of which Jesus himself taught us, direct us to focus on the best way to express ourselves to our God. These were never meant to replace personal prayer, in my opinion. These were written by inspired writers to express their loving relationship with God and with the Saints. But we find such beauty in the prose, such eloquence and relevance that we could not help but adopt these as our own, to articulate our own personal relationship.
Yet, I do agree that there is a need to 'reintroduce' mindfulness in our observances. By carefully 'minding' the words in the prayers and novenas, you would delightfully come across terms that have not been in 'general circulation'. "Lamentation" "Sorrow" "banished children of Eve" "Clement" "Begotten" "Beseech" Re-discovering these terms and trying to use them in everyday language is quite a mental exercise. "I am sorrowful." "I have such a clement boss." "I beseeched my partner to watch the Madonna concert with me. " Hihihi These always make me smile.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
It is a Choice.
I was still euphoric over the SCOTUS pronouncement. A few weeks ago, Time Magazine discussed this. At that time, it still didn't seem clear how the justices would vote, even Justice Kennedy (who later penned that moving statement). My timeline was filling up with rainbows all over.
It's not even the first country to declare same-sex marriage legal. But somehow, decisions in the US will always carry that much weight, by sheer economic power at the very least. Anyway, it carried much weight in my mind. I could just imagine how joyous every LGBT must been feeling!
Not too fast. Not everyone. Soon enough, I would read dissenting opinion. Reading these from outright gay-hating fanatics was of no surprise, of course. But eventually, reading a friend, a friend like me, gay, and his post of negativity started to put some dark clouds in my rainbow-filled sky. Eventually, as much as people were celebrating the decision, others felt that they needed to be just as loud about their feelings of disgust, of outrage.
Looking at my other, alter-ego 'professional' FB profile, I read more negative feelings and reactions, many of them from my friends. I could feel some vomit rising from my gut.
The feeling of hate and disgust over the negative, bigoted statements is real. That is part of my humanity. But I didn't want to stoke further anger so I chose to post something more benign - a sadness over the negativity I have been reading, in between the rainbows. Some were quick to tell me to 'unfriend'. I was tempted.
But I felt there was something inherently unsettling if I just immediately 'unfriend' them. Have they really become 'unfriends' because they chose to believe otherwise? Have they suddenly become mean to me because of that negative post or that hateful comment? Where have all the years of friendship, of genuine, reciprocal concern gone? Has that changed because they felt differently, even if strongly, from mine?
No, I cannot reduce their humanity into one negative post or comment. I cannot erase the friendship because of that difference. Now, if they choose to change their attitude and behavior towards me because we belong on opposite sides of a fence, then I cannot do anything about that. But until they do, I will not allow myself to hate these friends of mine just because their opinion differs.
It is a choice I have to make. I will fight the seemingly overwhelming anger I have started to feel towards them as I read their comments. I will choose to react differently and just let that pass. I make this choice because ultimately, it will build my character. Not letting my emotions 'click' for me will always be better for me.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It's not even the first country to declare same-sex marriage legal. But somehow, decisions in the US will always carry that much weight, by sheer economic power at the very least. Anyway, it carried much weight in my mind. I could just imagine how joyous every LGBT must been feeling!
Not too fast. Not everyone. Soon enough, I would read dissenting opinion. Reading these from outright gay-hating fanatics was of no surprise, of course. But eventually, reading a friend, a friend like me, gay, and his post of negativity started to put some dark clouds in my rainbow-filled sky. Eventually, as much as people were celebrating the decision, others felt that they needed to be just as loud about their feelings of disgust, of outrage.
Looking at my other, alter-ego 'professional' FB profile, I read more negative feelings and reactions, many of them from my friends. I could feel some vomit rising from my gut.
The feeling of hate and disgust over the negative, bigoted statements is real. That is part of my humanity. But I didn't want to stoke further anger so I chose to post something more benign - a sadness over the negativity I have been reading, in between the rainbows. Some were quick to tell me to 'unfriend'. I was tempted.
But I felt there was something inherently unsettling if I just immediately 'unfriend' them. Have they really become 'unfriends' because they chose to believe otherwise? Have they suddenly become mean to me because of that negative post or that hateful comment? Where have all the years of friendship, of genuine, reciprocal concern gone? Has that changed because they felt differently, even if strongly, from mine?
No, I cannot reduce their humanity into one negative post or comment. I cannot erase the friendship because of that difference. Now, if they choose to change their attitude and behavior towards me because we belong on opposite sides of a fence, then I cannot do anything about that. But until they do, I will not allow myself to hate these friends of mine just because their opinion differs.
It is a choice I have to make. I will fight the seemingly overwhelming anger I have started to feel towards them as I read their comments. I will choose to react differently and just let that pass. I make this choice because ultimately, it will build my character. Not letting my emotions 'click' for me will always be better for me.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, June 26, 2015
SAHC: 1st Sem Confusion
My elder sister was one year ahead of me in UP. During the first days or even weeks of school, I'd go to their tambayan to hang out and eat my baon. I thought that was the most natural thing to do. Be friends with her friends. After a few days she told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should find my own friends. And stop hanging out with her and her barkada.
Ouch. After having been quite popular in high school, I was suddenly this nobody, this invisible freshman, one of thousands. Since I wasn't comfortable with my blockmates yet, I was forced to roam Palma Hall alone.
But that didn't last. I resolved to start befriending my blockmates. And soon, I was hanging out with some of them, mostly those from the provinces. We all felt quite alone and we needed company. Beyond them, too, the block started to gel as one group. Though there were existing cliques, grouped by school, the shared experience of a boring Philosophy class, a challenging Botany course, and the ones in between (Psychology, English, Humanities) made it easy for us from such disparate backgrounds to stop being strangers.
We also decided to participate in those interblock contests. There were the volleyball and basketball competitions, both of which I avoided. But I joined the team in the Quiz bee (feeling brainy enough). More opportunities to bond as a block. And for me, I started to socialize more and my circle grew larger.
But I also started to turn my attention to the pretty ones in class. Psychology in UP always attracts some very pretty girls. I was determined to make ligaw. I wanted to know if I could do it: if I could have a girlfriend. And if it would silence the gay voice inside. I chose this sweet girl, cute and petite. Always in a skirt. She was always so nice to me anyway.
So torpe me did it the only way I knew how. I wrote her a letter. (Oh my, just thinking about that makes me cringe.) I professed my intention to get to know her better. (Ugh.) Thankfully, she turned me down in her sweet, sweet way. "I believe we are better off as friends." But though I still had a bruised ego, I felt my question was answered. No, I can't do it. I shouldn't do it. It's God's way of telling me that I should be myself, be my gay self. That first semester ended with more friends and some measure of peace.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Ouch. After having been quite popular in high school, I was suddenly this nobody, this invisible freshman, one of thousands. Since I wasn't comfortable with my blockmates yet, I was forced to roam Palma Hall alone.
But that didn't last. I resolved to start befriending my blockmates. And soon, I was hanging out with some of them, mostly those from the provinces. We all felt quite alone and we needed company. Beyond them, too, the block started to gel as one group. Though there were existing cliques, grouped by school, the shared experience of a boring Philosophy class, a challenging Botany course, and the ones in between (Psychology, English, Humanities) made it easy for us from such disparate backgrounds to stop being strangers.
We also decided to participate in those interblock contests. There were the volleyball and basketball competitions, both of which I avoided. But I joined the team in the Quiz bee (feeling brainy enough). More opportunities to bond as a block. And for me, I started to socialize more and my circle grew larger.
But I also started to turn my attention to the pretty ones in class. Psychology in UP always attracts some very pretty girls. I was determined to make ligaw. I wanted to know if I could do it: if I could have a girlfriend. And if it would silence the gay voice inside. I chose this sweet girl, cute and petite. Always in a skirt. She was always so nice to me anyway.
So torpe me did it the only way I knew how. I wrote her a letter. (Oh my, just thinking about that makes me cringe.) I professed my intention to get to know her better. (Ugh.) Thankfully, she turned me down in her sweet, sweet way. "I believe we are better off as friends." But though I still had a bruised ego, I felt my question was answered. No, I can't do it. I shouldn't do it. It's God's way of telling me that I should be myself, be my gay self. That first semester ended with more friends and some measure of peace.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, June 19, 2015
SAHC: Unang Yugto: Iskolar ng Bayan
I can't recall how I spent the summer after graduating from high school. All I remember is how excited and anxious I was about entering UP, my first taste of co-education after having spent at least 8 years in an all-male school. Very few of the batch was going to UP. The barkada was spread out - Ateneo, De La Salle, UST, UE, Mapua. I was going to this big university with virtually no friends. Afraid.
The much-talked about 'medical examination' at the infirmary was another source of anxiety. We were all going to be stripped naked. It both scared and delighted me. I just hoped that I would be with some interesting co-examinees.
But during the day itself, there was hardly any time to even check out the other students. I was nervous. We stripped down to our underwear. And we exposed our genitalia, and our rectal area only in front of the doctor. Much ado about nothing.
My first subject on the first day of school was Psychology. We were a block of about 20 freshmen. I quickly checked out my classmates. There were just two cuties. One of them was the cousin of a cousin. That one got crossed out immediately. The other one was Chinese, and borderline nerd. That got crossed out, too. The block was not going to be anything inspiring.
But on a deeper level, I made a decision to hide my sexuality. I wanted to give myself a shot at being straight. A fresh start. Maybe the presence of females as classmates would 'stimulate' my straight hormones. I went back to the closet in my first semester at UP.
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The much-talked about 'medical examination' at the infirmary was another source of anxiety. We were all going to be stripped naked. It both scared and delighted me. I just hoped that I would be with some interesting co-examinees.
But during the day itself, there was hardly any time to even check out the other students. I was nervous. We stripped down to our underwear. And we exposed our genitalia, and our rectal area only in front of the doctor. Much ado about nothing.
My first subject on the first day of school was Psychology. We were a block of about 20 freshmen. I quickly checked out my classmates. There were just two cuties. One of them was the cousin of a cousin. That one got crossed out immediately. The other one was Chinese, and borderline nerd. That got crossed out, too. The block was not going to be anything inspiring.
But on a deeper level, I made a decision to hide my sexuality. I wanted to give myself a shot at being straight. A fresh start. Maybe the presence of females as classmates would 'stimulate' my straight hormones. I went back to the closet in my first semester at UP.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Transubstantiation
Previously, a friend asked me if I actually believed that the host turns into the body of Jesus at consecration leading to communion. I didn't know how to reply. Years of school catechism (or my understanding of it) has ingrained in me the concept that transubstantiation happens, matter of factly. The consecrated host I receive is His Body. No questions asked. I even recall viewing photos previously showing a bloody host on a communicant's tongue. I think it was part of the photos of some miracle, maybe related to Padre Pio. But I'm not sure. Those photos were supposed to reinforce the transubstantiation that actually happens.
As a Catholic, am I supposed to believe that it really happens?
I thought I was. Yet as I searched my heart, I knew that I swallow a host that symbolizes his body, his death offered for my sins. It was not going to turn into his flesh. Am I not being true to my Catholic faith by believing in this?
Now I think that my faith does not dictate believing in transubstantiation. I pondered on the events of the Last Supper. As Jesus was instituting the Sacrament, he did not turn that bread into his own flesh. For one thing, he was still alive and well. Even Jesus himself was raising that bread and breaking it as a symbol of his impending death and sacrifice. And as I eat the bread or the host, and consider it as His Body, I am reminded of this ultimate loving sacrifice. "Do It In Memory Of Me.", he commands.
I don't think I am less of a Catholic because this is what I believe in. I continue to remember His Death and His Victory over death and sin every time I hear mass. And that memory serves to reinforce my resolve to be a better human being - loving, caring and real.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
As a Catholic, am I supposed to believe that it really happens?
I thought I was. Yet as I searched my heart, I knew that I swallow a host that symbolizes his body, his death offered for my sins. It was not going to turn into his flesh. Am I not being true to my Catholic faith by believing in this?
Now I think that my faith does not dictate believing in transubstantiation. I pondered on the events of the Last Supper. As Jesus was instituting the Sacrament, he did not turn that bread into his own flesh. For one thing, he was still alive and well. Even Jesus himself was raising that bread and breaking it as a symbol of his impending death and sacrifice. And as I eat the bread or the host, and consider it as His Body, I am reminded of this ultimate loving sacrifice. "Do It In Memory Of Me.", he commands.
I don't think I am less of a Catholic because this is what I believe in. I continue to remember His Death and His Victory over death and sin every time I hear mass. And that memory serves to reinforce my resolve to be a better human being - loving, caring and real.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Late Post: Thoughts on Mother's Day
My social media timelines were bursting with mom photos, mom tributes last Sunday. It felt wonderful going through each and like-clicking. Moms of all shapes and sizes I saw there. Some mothers remarkably resemble their sons. Others were so different that you'd think "he must have gotten his looks from his dad." Some moms looked so young they looked like siblings beside their children.
Last Sunday, it turns out, is also the Feast of the Lady of the Abandoned. The elderly home nearby celebrates the feast, for the home was named after her. The irony is that this home houses elderly women, mostly mothers who have been left by their families to fend for themselves. I wonder how their children feel when Mothers' Day comes around.
But who am I to judge? I have been very lucky to have a mother, actually parents, who are so sweet and lovable. They are so easy to take care of. And up to now, they would rather not be a burden to any of us, their children. But I also know of the strained relationships some of my friends have with their mothers.
One girl friend shares her pain as she take care of a 'difficult' mother - one who always complains, never grateful, very demanding. Luckily, her mom does not stay with her but with her brother and his family. That family is being stressed out by her presence. My girl friend, much as she wants to take care of her mom, fears letting her inside her home. They might kill each other, she says in jest.
Is it a child's responsibility to take care of his or her folks? Should parents demand that of their children?
I don't think so. Parents should not be raising children as insurance for their old age. They have a responsibility to rear their children properly, to become fully functioning, well-adjusted adults who might eventually have their own families. Then those adults become parents themselves. And the cycle moves forward, ever forward.
What becomes of parents when they become empty nesters? In a perfect world, the society and its infrastructure are designed to allow the elderly to live with dignity independently. They have access to health care, recreation, entertainment until the very end. Senior citizens are supposed to ensure that they have provided for this retirement during their productive years.
But it is not a perfect world. Some elderly parents can't even retire as their families continue to depend on them. And for those who have provided for themselves, infrastructure is still not senior-citizen friendly. What happens to them?
Could it be that this is the role for those children who remain single or without children to take care of? I can't help but sometimes feel that this is my special role as the gay son, the one without a family and kids to support. It is my unique privilege to be able to honor and serve my parents within the context of an imperfect society that cannot allow them to be independent.
I call it a privilege because as I honor them through serving them in their twilight years, I obey a commandment, the only one among the Ten, that comes with a promise of a blessed long life.
Perhaps in His wisdom, though God designed it that children do not have the responsibility to care for their parents, but they would be rewarded for doing so.
I see many of my gay friends, especially on social media, taking on that role. Even as they pursue their careers, even as they have their boyfriends, they put their parents as top priority. May God continue to bless them as they take on this privileged role. And when it sometimes feel like a burden, may He lighten their load so they continue to honor and serve their parents in the best manner possible.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Last Sunday, it turns out, is also the Feast of the Lady of the Abandoned. The elderly home nearby celebrates the feast, for the home was named after her. The irony is that this home houses elderly women, mostly mothers who have been left by their families to fend for themselves. I wonder how their children feel when Mothers' Day comes around.
But who am I to judge? I have been very lucky to have a mother, actually parents, who are so sweet and lovable. They are so easy to take care of. And up to now, they would rather not be a burden to any of us, their children. But I also know of the strained relationships some of my friends have with their mothers.
One girl friend shares her pain as she take care of a 'difficult' mother - one who always complains, never grateful, very demanding. Luckily, her mom does not stay with her but with her brother and his family. That family is being stressed out by her presence. My girl friend, much as she wants to take care of her mom, fears letting her inside her home. They might kill each other, she says in jest.
Is it a child's responsibility to take care of his or her folks? Should parents demand that of their children?
I don't think so. Parents should not be raising children as insurance for their old age. They have a responsibility to rear their children properly, to become fully functioning, well-adjusted adults who might eventually have their own families. Then those adults become parents themselves. And the cycle moves forward, ever forward.
What becomes of parents when they become empty nesters? In a perfect world, the society and its infrastructure are designed to allow the elderly to live with dignity independently. They have access to health care, recreation, entertainment until the very end. Senior citizens are supposed to ensure that they have provided for this retirement during their productive years.
But it is not a perfect world. Some elderly parents can't even retire as their families continue to depend on them. And for those who have provided for themselves, infrastructure is still not senior-citizen friendly. What happens to them?
Could it be that this is the role for those children who remain single or without children to take care of? I can't help but sometimes feel that this is my special role as the gay son, the one without a family and kids to support. It is my unique privilege to be able to honor and serve my parents within the context of an imperfect society that cannot allow them to be independent.
I call it a privilege because as I honor them through serving them in their twilight years, I obey a commandment, the only one among the Ten, that comes with a promise of a blessed long life.
Perhaps in His wisdom, though God designed it that children do not have the responsibility to care for their parents, but they would be rewarded for doing so.
I see many of my gay friends, especially on social media, taking on that role. Even as they pursue their careers, even as they have their boyfriends, they put their parents as top priority. May God continue to bless them as they take on this privileged role. And when it sometimes feel like a burden, may He lighten their load so they continue to honor and serve their parents in the best manner possible.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Exercise and the Mysteries
I enjoy running. I enjoy it alone. I enjoy it outdoors. I enjoy it in the afternoon, specially around sundown. I usually run using Nike's running app. I have my set playlists to run to. This spans anywhere from the 80's to Madonna to EDM.
One time, I forgot to bring the waistband to hold my iPhone. (I don't like the armband holder. It bruises my arms.) I was forced to run without music. I prayed the rosary instead, using my fingers to keep count. One and a half laps around the UP oval usually completes the mystery.
From time to time, I have started to incorporate praying with running. I would still start with the music in the background. Then I turn that off to pray the rosary.
In my previous post, I mentioned the morning absercize I would do everyday. Part of the routine was to play music in the background, of course. I would crunch and plank to my playlists, coming from the gadgets or from the sound system I had installed in the room. One time, I had to have the amplifier repaired. In the absence of music, I substituted praying the rosary yet again.
Discovering that I could pray and exercise at the same time is a major feat for me. I stopped praying the rosary regularly decades ago. I can never finish a five-decade rosary alone before bedtime. I would doze off. And this is despite having grown up in a family that prayed together the Rosary every night. We would huddle around inside my folks' bedroom and pray. My Nanay would always lead. But eventually, that fizzled out as our schedules became more erratic.
I don't feel pressured to pray the rosary regularly. But it is something I would like to bring back, without committing to make it a habit. Being able to pray again, even as I exercise
Practically, the exercise could be achieved on auto-mode so I am able to meditate on the mysteries. But I also found out that the particularly strenuous exercise also makes me focus on the recitation of the Hail Mary's, and the other prayers. And when I get to reciting the Sorrowful Mysteries, I mega-relate! I love it that I can contemplate on His Suffering even as I endure the plank or the leg raises. I remind myself that this 'pain' is nothing compared to what He suffered.
Sometimes, though, I think about the irony of it. I pray as I exercise. I pray as I pursue an activity intended for selfish or even vanity reasons. But I also reason that He'd want us to weave praying into our daily lives anyway. So I think He'd still appreciate hearing my prayers as I sweat and huff and puff.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
One time, I forgot to bring the waistband to hold my iPhone. (I don't like the armband holder. It bruises my arms.) I was forced to run without music. I prayed the rosary instead, using my fingers to keep count. One and a half laps around the UP oval usually completes the mystery.
From time to time, I have started to incorporate praying with running. I would still start with the music in the background. Then I turn that off to pray the rosary.
In my previous post, I mentioned the morning absercize I would do everyday. Part of the routine was to play music in the background, of course. I would crunch and plank to my playlists, coming from the gadgets or from the sound system I had installed in the room. One time, I had to have the amplifier repaired. In the absence of music, I substituted praying the rosary yet again.
Discovering that I could pray and exercise at the same time is a major feat for me. I stopped praying the rosary regularly decades ago. I can never finish a five-decade rosary alone before bedtime. I would doze off. And this is despite having grown up in a family that prayed together the Rosary every night. We would huddle around inside my folks' bedroom and pray. My Nanay would always lead. But eventually, that fizzled out as our schedules became more erratic.
I don't feel pressured to pray the rosary regularly. But it is something I would like to bring back, without committing to make it a habit. Being able to pray again, even as I exercise
Practically, the exercise could be achieved on auto-mode so I am able to meditate on the mysteries. But I also found out that the particularly strenuous exercise also makes me focus on the recitation of the Hail Mary's, and the other prayers. And when I get to reciting the Sorrowful Mysteries, I mega-relate! I love it that I can contemplate on His Suffering even as I endure the plank or the leg raises. I remind myself that this 'pain' is nothing compared to what He suffered.
Sometimes, though, I think about the irony of it. I pray as I exercise. I pray as I pursue an activity intended for selfish or even vanity reasons. But I also reason that He'd want us to weave praying into our daily lives anyway. So I think He'd still appreciate hearing my prayers as I sweat and huff and puff.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, April 13, 2015
Apps for abscercize
I do my abs exercises everyday in the morning at home. I try to do them everyday, mostly in the mornings.
The app that got me started was this one called "7". I found it while looking for resources on HIIT - high intensity interval training. It was designed that way, alternating high intensity, short-duration bursts with rest. I liked that the timer could work even as iTunes or Spotify is playing in the background. It was meant to push Type A types like me who work on goals. You are pushed to do the 7-minute routine (at least) everyday. It actively tracks your progress. It 'punishes' you when you miss a day. It sets mini-rewards along the way. The ultimate reward will come from completing it for 7 months (210 days roughly). And it syncs with all your iOS devices.
So I got into it, happily tracking the days I have successfully completed early last year. It is also customizable. You can change the duration of the burst, the rest, the number of cycles. But it can be maddeningly frustrating if, for whatever reason, your exercise of the day does not log. It happened to me first time mid-last year. Somehow, because I had spotty internet access, my exercise was not logged. I got so frustrated I almost gave up on it. But I forgave it and gave it another shot in the last quarter of 2014.
And up until February 2015, I was on track. Then disaster struck. An entire week of exercises didn't register! After 182 f*@%#king days, suddenly it was saying that I didn't work out for a week. WTF?! I was so angry and frustrated. I gave up on that stupid app.
I stopped abs-ing it for a day, or two. Until I discovered this other training app. Technically, it really is just a customizable timer app based on HIIT. And after a few tweaks, I was able to replicate the routines I had been doing on 7. It doesn't track or log my workouts daily. I like it because it doesn't. No pressure anymore for the oc-oc.
(Lately I found out that it does. But it doesn't synch across all my devices. So I still feel less pressured to do it everyday).
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The app that got me started was this one called "7". I found it while looking for resources on HIIT - high intensity interval training. It was designed that way, alternating high intensity, short-duration bursts with rest. I liked that the timer could work even as iTunes or Spotify is playing in the background. It was meant to push Type A types like me who work on goals. You are pushed to do the 7-minute routine (at least) everyday. It actively tracks your progress. It 'punishes' you when you miss a day. It sets mini-rewards along the way. The ultimate reward will come from completing it for 7 months (210 days roughly). And it syncs with all your iOS devices.
So I got into it, happily tracking the days I have successfully completed early last year. It is also customizable. You can change the duration of the burst, the rest, the number of cycles. But it can be maddeningly frustrating if, for whatever reason, your exercise of the day does not log. It happened to me first time mid-last year. Somehow, because I had spotty internet access, my exercise was not logged. I got so frustrated I almost gave up on it. But I forgave it and gave it another shot in the last quarter of 2014.
And up until February 2015, I was on track. Then disaster struck. An entire week of exercises didn't register! After 182 f*@%#king days, suddenly it was saying that I didn't work out for a week. WTF?! I was so angry and frustrated. I gave up on that stupid app.
I stopped abs-ing it for a day, or two. Until I discovered this other training app. Technically, it really is just a customizable timer app based on HIIT. And after a few tweaks, I was able to replicate the routines I had been doing on 7. It doesn't track or log my workouts daily. I like it because it doesn't. No pressure anymore for the oc-oc.
(Lately I found out that it does. But it doesn't synch across all my devices. So I still feel less pressured to do it everyday).
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Resurrection Reflection
I get that Jesus had to die as a sacrificial lamb. As explained clearly enough, the high priests then would usually consecrate a lamb as an offering, primarily for the atonement of sins of the Jewish people. Rather than offer any animal as holocaust, it was his own body that was offered up in the most gruesome and horrific manner. His life for our lives. Ransom payment so that we have a chance at eternal happiness. At the rate we have been 'trespassing' since we started to exercise our free will, we'd probably have to sacrifice entire herds of lambs, and other animals just to be able to cleanse our dirtied souls.
But why resurrect from that horrible death?
Perhaps it was to show that he was no ordinary prophet. He was Son of God. It certainly set Christianity apart, to have our prophet/God die then live again for eternity. Are there other religions that could claim as much? Talk about bragging rights.
I dare reason something else. Jesus' resurrection from the death not only shows his power over death. It is actually showing that He will always live. He cannot die. He cannot be killed or murdered. He will live again.
And this means much more to me. More than two thousand years ago, I looked at His Death as the sacrifice needed to forgive the sins of His people at that moment in time. But what about the sins they are about to be commit (or omit)? And the sins of those who are still be born and baptized, including us? My answer: His Resurrection was the supreme solution. By showing us that though he died, he would rise again, he showed that he could never really be 'killed by our sins, past, present and future.' Sin after sin will still be committed, maybe much more than during his time. But because He resurrected, all those sins will still be forgiven.
To dramatize the point, I imagine that He didn't ascend soon after. He continued to preach as a resurrected human being. He would gain even more converts. That would not just threaten the Pharisees but even Rome itself. They would plot to kill him again, just to silence him.
Meanwhile, despite the beauty of his message of love, his Gospel of love, there would still be hate. There would still be violence, some done by his own followers. Sins start accumulating again. So the meek lamb that He is would subject himself again to his tormentors so that sins are forgiven again. Then he dies in a different yet even more cruel way, to extinguish his person and his memory.
And yet again, more dramatically perhaps, He would be resurrected. He would live again. Again. and Again.
It is that duality of His Death and Resurrection that conquered sin once and for all. Jesus tells me that the ritualistic offering has been done. And unlike in times past when people would go back to their old ways once the ritual sacrifice has been done, Jesus tells me to focus not on the ritual but on his Message of Love and living that message.
For me, when He asked us to "do this in memory of me", it is to remind me of Jesus and his life, death and resurrection. So I am reminded to keep on pondering on his Word and seeking to live a life with 'less sin'. And being so human, I forget. Celebrating the Eucharist every week reminds me constantly.
Jesus tells me. "My sins are forgiven. Go and sin no more."
For me to sin no more, in a world where motives and intentions could still lead to evil, he tells me to listen to him and his words, to study his life and his ways.
As I look for how to "sin no more" in my day-to-day life, I just have to look at his teachings and even his life, his own day-to-day and be guided. "I am the Way."
And sometimes, when I don't know what is real anymore, I don't have to look anywhere else. "I am the Truth." "I am the Way."
And as I yearn to live a more fulfilling life, I turn to him again and I am assured. "I am the Life."
A Blessed Easter to you all.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Thank you, Anonymous Reader!
Thank you for back-reading, even to those posts in 2008! You can never be 'late' in the online multiverse. If you read through the posts of the years, it would feel like those lives are all unfolding at the same time, current and real. I think virtual reality manifests the essense of parallel lives in parallel universes.
Your comment on my waking up post in 2008 made me smile. I read it again and realized that yes, I am laughing about it now. No, not laughing. Smiling, really.
The beautiful post-script post is that I may have found 'that perfect man.' Haha. No, nobody is ever that perfect man. And I would be just foolish to put that label on my partner. I have been in this relationship for two years and counting. Something about our chemistry makes this work. I am hopeful again.
I became quite emotional reading that part in the post about shaping up and wanting to be a better person to 'deserve' someone like him. To a certain extent, I have wrestled with those devils and have pinned some of them down. But they never truly die, methinks. But for now, I am in this relationship that works. I am grateful.
Tell me more about that paradigm shift in viewing single-blessedness, dear Anonymous one. :)
Your comment on my waking up post in 2008 made me smile. I read it again and realized that yes, I am laughing about it now. No, not laughing. Smiling, really.
The beautiful post-script post is that I may have found 'that perfect man.' Haha. No, nobody is ever that perfect man. And I would be just foolish to put that label on my partner. I have been in this relationship for two years and counting. Something about our chemistry makes this work. I am hopeful again.
I became quite emotional reading that part in the post about shaping up and wanting to be a better person to 'deserve' someone like him. To a certain extent, I have wrestled with those devils and have pinned some of them down. But they never truly die, methinks. But for now, I am in this relationship that works. I am grateful.
Tell me more about that paradigm shift in viewing single-blessedness, dear Anonymous one. :)
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
That Sweet Spot 2
Lorenzo's big hands were firm, and moved fast. He started with Luke's legs, pressing his calves quite speedily. It wasn't exactly the kind of massage Luke was expecting. He had always expected therapists with extra service in mind to be slow in their strokes, almost teasing, with the 'unexpected' brush against the scrotum or the rectal area. But Lorenzo seemed intent on giving a good, firm massage.
Luke suddenly felt that he did need that massage, especially on his legs and feet. He had been doing some 10 KM running lately. And even as he would sometimes feel the pain of a sore muscle being kneaded, he knew it would feel wonderful after. He smiled as he remembered the term "saruy" - a hybrid of "sarap" and "aruy".
Lorenzo seemed quite oblivious to his erogenous zones, preferring to concentrate on the muscles of his hamstrings, then the back of his thighs. Even when he was finally massaging his gluteus, Luke didn't feel eroticized by the feel of his hands. He kneaded the tight knots on Luke's back with ease. The big fingers worked their 'magic' on those "lamig" spots. He was now feeling totally relaxed. His muscles have become putty to his hands.
Lorenzo asked him to turn-over. Luke lied down on his back and looked at him. He still had that 'serious' look to him, as he poured some more oil on his palms. Meanwhile, Luke remained limp and relaxed. And even as he was already at the stomach area, just above the groin, Luke was still not feeling any 'heat'.
After doing his chest and hands, Luke knew that the massage, the 'serious' one had ended. He waited to see what would happen next.
Lorenzo got up and removed his boxers. There was another set of boxer briefs under. He got some oil and kneeled beside him. With the oiled right hand, he held Luke's limp dick gingerly and started to caress it. He paused to look at Luke before he started licking his nipples and jerking him off. From time to time, he would look up. And Luke would see him. The soft light enhanced his eyes. The serious look was gone. A tenderness passed between them.
Luke started to respond, his cock hardening to the touch. Ordinarily, the tongue on his nipples wouldn't turn him on. But somehow, that motion allowed Luke to enjoy the wet, flashing tongue.
Luke placed his hand on Lorenzo's thigh. He squeezed and started to grope for Lorenzo's cock, still inside his boxer briefs. Lorenzo stopped, took off his briefs and went back to stimulating Luke. Lorenzo's cock was still limp, obviously not turned on by what was happening. Flaccid, it was regular, nothing impressive. But Luke held on to it anyway, kneading it between his fingers. Then he felt his penis growing in his hand. And as the blood filled up the veins, the true size of the cock manifested. Lorenzo was a true grower. Luke felt more aroused at the feel of the girth and the length.
Lorenzo straightened up and moved his hips closer to Luke's face. Luke looked at him, his body, his flat belly, his smooth skin and his engorged cock. He sucked on the cock slowly, carefully. He didn't want to choke on it. And he was aware that he may not be opening his mouth wide enough. His teeth could scrape the shaft.
Meanwhile, Lorenzo continued to jerk him off, furiously pumping his rock-hard cock now. There would be times Luke had to push his hand away. He was too close to coming. He was still enjoying, feasting. But Lorenzo continued jacking him off anyway. And Luke just let go and shot his cum all over his belly.
Lorenzo pulled away and asked to go to the bathroom. Spent, Luke just pointed at the direction and closed his eyes. He reached for the tissue box at the bed side table and began cleaning himself up. Soon, Lorenzo came back, toweling off. Luke looked at him.
He wasn't actually very handsome. But he was nice-looking, tall and lanky. And he spoke with a raspy voice that enhanced his sexiness.
"Did that relax you, Sir?"
"Ah yes. Your massage is ok. So Von is actually your cousin?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good looks run in your blood. And height."
Lorenzo smiled. "Our mothers are sisters."
"Kapampangans are usually gwapo", Luke casually remarked.
"Thanks, Sir. I'll be going ahead." Luke handed him the payment on his way out.
It was a good massage. The nice, thick cock was certainly uhmm, icing on the cake. The downer: He still doesn't give blowjobs. Well, rare is the therapist who does, actually.
He decided to put his name on 'Active Duty' among his 'Therapists' list in his phonebook. Perhaps in a month or two, he'll have him again. It has become his routine to 'cycle' his therapists every two weeks.
But in just three days, Luke received a "Good morning. Kamusta?" text from Lorenzo. He thought it was a thoughtful gesture so he replied. But soon enough, the text exchange led into "when will you have another massage, Sir?" That quickly irritated Luke. He curtly replied "Not yet. I will text you when I want one."
That didn't stop Lorenzo from sending messages of "Good morning, Kamusta?" almost everyday. And though Luke stopped responding everytime, realizing that this was probably a text blast to his clients, it didn't stop him from getting more and more annoyed.
"Do not text me. I will text you when I need you." Luke sent this message once.
"But please, Sir. I really need some cash now." Lorenzo replied.
"Sorry."
"Please, Sir. I beg of you. Besides, Sir, it's been more than a month since."
Luke thought to himself 'Wow, the guy is keeping track!' Nevertheless, Luke held his ground. "I don't want a massage now."
"I'll make it the best, Sir. Promise."
The thought of the thick cock popped into his head. And the smooth skin. And that look in his eyes. He tried to brush these off.
"No. I don't feel like having one now. Besides, you are so annoying. You keep on texting."
"Sorry, Sir. Business has been very slow. I'll be kicked out of the rented room if I don't come up with payment."
"Sorry about that. But that doesn't excuse you from being so annoying."
"Promise, Sir. I'll stop texting after this. Just give me this last chance. Please, Sir."
Those thoughts surfaced again. Well, he did just have a strenuous workout. And he does feel a knot somewhere on his nape.
"You have to stop texting. Ever."
"Yes, Sir. And I'll make it the best. Promise. Please, Sir, please."
"K. Tonight."
Luke suddenly felt that he did need that massage, especially on his legs and feet. He had been doing some 10 KM running lately. And even as he would sometimes feel the pain of a sore muscle being kneaded, he knew it would feel wonderful after. He smiled as he remembered the term "saruy" - a hybrid of "sarap" and "aruy".
Lorenzo seemed quite oblivious to his erogenous zones, preferring to concentrate on the muscles of his hamstrings, then the back of his thighs. Even when he was finally massaging his gluteus, Luke didn't feel eroticized by the feel of his hands. He kneaded the tight knots on Luke's back with ease. The big fingers worked their 'magic' on those "lamig" spots. He was now feeling totally relaxed. His muscles have become putty to his hands.
Lorenzo asked him to turn-over. Luke lied down on his back and looked at him. He still had that 'serious' look to him, as he poured some more oil on his palms. Meanwhile, Luke remained limp and relaxed. And even as he was already at the stomach area, just above the groin, Luke was still not feeling any 'heat'.
After doing his chest and hands, Luke knew that the massage, the 'serious' one had ended. He waited to see what would happen next.
Lorenzo got up and removed his boxers. There was another set of boxer briefs under. He got some oil and kneeled beside him. With the oiled right hand, he held Luke's limp dick gingerly and started to caress it. He paused to look at Luke before he started licking his nipples and jerking him off. From time to time, he would look up. And Luke would see him. The soft light enhanced his eyes. The serious look was gone. A tenderness passed between them.
Luke started to respond, his cock hardening to the touch. Ordinarily, the tongue on his nipples wouldn't turn him on. But somehow, that motion allowed Luke to enjoy the wet, flashing tongue.
Luke placed his hand on Lorenzo's thigh. He squeezed and started to grope for Lorenzo's cock, still inside his boxer briefs. Lorenzo stopped, took off his briefs and went back to stimulating Luke. Lorenzo's cock was still limp, obviously not turned on by what was happening. Flaccid, it was regular, nothing impressive. But Luke held on to it anyway, kneading it between his fingers. Then he felt his penis growing in his hand. And as the blood filled up the veins, the true size of the cock manifested. Lorenzo was a true grower. Luke felt more aroused at the feel of the girth and the length.
Lorenzo straightened up and moved his hips closer to Luke's face. Luke looked at him, his body, his flat belly, his smooth skin and his engorged cock. He sucked on the cock slowly, carefully. He didn't want to choke on it. And he was aware that he may not be opening his mouth wide enough. His teeth could scrape the shaft.
Meanwhile, Lorenzo continued to jerk him off, furiously pumping his rock-hard cock now. There would be times Luke had to push his hand away. He was too close to coming. He was still enjoying, feasting. But Lorenzo continued jacking him off anyway. And Luke just let go and shot his cum all over his belly.
Lorenzo pulled away and asked to go to the bathroom. Spent, Luke just pointed at the direction and closed his eyes. He reached for the tissue box at the bed side table and began cleaning himself up. Soon, Lorenzo came back, toweling off. Luke looked at him.
He wasn't actually very handsome. But he was nice-looking, tall and lanky. And he spoke with a raspy voice that enhanced his sexiness.
"Did that relax you, Sir?"
"Ah yes. Your massage is ok. So Von is actually your cousin?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good looks run in your blood. And height."
Lorenzo smiled. "Our mothers are sisters."
"Kapampangans are usually gwapo", Luke casually remarked.
"Thanks, Sir. I'll be going ahead." Luke handed him the payment on his way out.
It was a good massage. The nice, thick cock was certainly uhmm, icing on the cake. The downer: He still doesn't give blowjobs. Well, rare is the therapist who does, actually.
He decided to put his name on 'Active Duty' among his 'Therapists' list in his phonebook. Perhaps in a month or two, he'll have him again. It has become his routine to 'cycle' his therapists every two weeks.
But in just three days, Luke received a "Good morning. Kamusta?" text from Lorenzo. He thought it was a thoughtful gesture so he replied. But soon enough, the text exchange led into "when will you have another massage, Sir?" That quickly irritated Luke. He curtly replied "Not yet. I will text you when I want one."
That didn't stop Lorenzo from sending messages of "Good morning, Kamusta?" almost everyday. And though Luke stopped responding everytime, realizing that this was probably a text blast to his clients, it didn't stop him from getting more and more annoyed.
"Do not text me. I will text you when I need you." Luke sent this message once.
"But please, Sir. I really need some cash now." Lorenzo replied.
"Sorry."
"Please, Sir. I beg of you. Besides, Sir, it's been more than a month since."
Luke thought to himself 'Wow, the guy is keeping track!' Nevertheless, Luke held his ground. "I don't want a massage now."
"I'll make it the best, Sir. Promise."
The thought of the thick cock popped into his head. And the smooth skin. And that look in his eyes. He tried to brush these off.
"No. I don't feel like having one now. Besides, you are so annoying. You keep on texting."
"Sorry, Sir. Business has been very slow. I'll be kicked out of the rented room if I don't come up with payment."
"Sorry about that. But that doesn't excuse you from being so annoying."
"Promise, Sir. I'll stop texting after this. Just give me this last chance. Please, Sir."
Those thoughts surfaced again. Well, he did just have a strenuous workout. And he does feel a knot somewhere on his nape.
"You have to stop texting. Ever."
"Yes, Sir. And I'll make it the best. Promise. Please, Sir, please."
"K. Tonight."
Monday, March 23, 2015
Gay Men Project
I read about this in the newspaper. Yes, I still read the newspapers. I still like getting my news from established sources. Hehe
The gay men project is a photographer 's quest to take photos of gay men from all over the world. Kevin was in the Philippines and has actually interviewed 7 beks. One was featured already in the blog.
But aside from photos, Kevin also produces videos of the gay men he has met. I watched some of them and found them fascinating.
No, this is not your usual collection of photographs of beautiful faces and bodies. I like that a lot of them are actually regular gay men like you and me. The photos are well done. The written interviews that accompany the pictures are fine, though I felt that there could have been more insight into their lives.
I like the videos more. The stories they tell have multiple dimensions, as Kevin also captures the scenes, the details in their faces and their voices.
Kudos to Kevin for such a project. If I weren't in the closet, I wouldn't mind being a subject. LOL
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The gay men project is a photographer 's quest to take photos of gay men from all over the world. Kevin was in the Philippines and has actually interviewed 7 beks. One was featured already in the blog.
But aside from photos, Kevin also produces videos of the gay men he has met. I watched some of them and found them fascinating.
No, this is not your usual collection of photographs of beautiful faces and bodies. I like that a lot of them are actually regular gay men like you and me. The photos are well done. The written interviews that accompany the pictures are fine, though I felt that there could have been more insight into their lives.
I like the videos more. The stories they tell have multiple dimensions, as Kevin also captures the scenes, the details in their faces and their voices.
Kudos to Kevin for such a project. If I weren't in the closet, I wouldn't mind being a subject. LOL
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
That Sweet Spot 1
"Sir, please. I need the money badly." Lorenzo texted.
He was very insistent. Luke could almost picture him, begging for 'work' for the night.
Luke was not sure he wanted a massage then. He just had one last week. He promised himself he was going to limit this indulgence to twice a month.
"I really don't need a massage right now."
"Please, Sir. I'll give you a really good time. Promise!"
He tried to remember how Lorenzo got his number. He actually texted from out of the blue two months ago.
"Hello Sir! This is Lorenzo. Maybe you would like to try my massage sometime."
Luke read the message and wondered who this guy was. Just yesterday, he was stood up by this therapist, Von, and he was still very pissed over that. Von was a referred masahista, referred by one of Luke's regulars. Luke was instantly attracted to Von, he was uncommonly handsome, tall, with a naturally sexy body, not created in the gym floor. He didn't give a great massage but he was just too darn good-looking. Luke knew he wanted to try him again after that first time. Unfortunately, after setting the visit up, Von didn't show up. He was left high and dry, and super-irritated.
It seemed weird that he would suddenly get this unsolicited massage offer from some strange number.
"Who gave you my number?" Luke asked.
"Von did, Sir."
Whaaat? Luke thought to himself. How dare him give his number away just like that.
"Sorry. I don't entertain therapists who were not referred to me."
"Ah, is that so? No problem, Sir. Thanks."
Oddly, Lorenzo seemed politely. He respected that and stopped texting. Until two weeks after.
"Hello Sir. Kamusta?"
Luke saved his number, just in case. Since he was in a better mood, he decided to reply.
"I'm ok. You?"
"Good, Sir. Maybe you would like to try my massage?"
It's been two weeks since that no-show incident. Luke was horny and quite curious about this guy.
"Hmm. You got an FB account?"
"Sure, Sir. Just search for this." Lorenzo dictated the email address.
Luke quickly searched for the FB profile and looked at the photo. Not bad-looking at all. Though there were certainly some unflattering angles.
"Did you see it, Sir?"
"Yes. I found it. How tall are you?"
"5'11" po."
"Is Von your friend?"
"He's actually my cousin, Sir. Would you like to try?"
"How much is your PF?"
"P2K Sir."
"Ahh. Too much. Beyond budget." Luke never paid more than P1,500.
"But that includes all the extra, Sir."
"I have regular therapists that give me all I need at less cost."
"Like how much, Sir?"
Bargaining time. "P1,200 max"
"Wow, Sir. That's too low."
"Well, sorry. That's all I'll pay for it." Luke was driving a hard bargain. Horny and achy as he was, he still could forego another week without a massage.
"Sir, just add a little more. Please."
That 'please' part surprised Luke. He looked at the FB profile again. He wondered how he would actually look in person.
"I'll add P200 more."
"Make it P300, Sir. Please. You won't regret it."
Horniness got the better of him and he agreed. They set the time for early evening.
Lorenzo was prompt. He walked inside the living room and Luke knew he wasn't exaggerating about the height. He is tall and lanky, broad shouldered. He had thick eyebrows on a long face. He was better looking in person, though still not as handsome as Von.
Luke showed him the way to the bedroom. Lorenzo gamely took of his clothes and was down to his underwear, boxer briefs. Luke stripped naked and lied down on the bed. The massage started.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
He was very insistent. Luke could almost picture him, begging for 'work' for the night.
Luke was not sure he wanted a massage then. He just had one last week. He promised himself he was going to limit this indulgence to twice a month.
"I really don't need a massage right now."
"Please, Sir. I'll give you a really good time. Promise!"
He tried to remember how Lorenzo got his number. He actually texted from out of the blue two months ago.
"Hello Sir! This is Lorenzo. Maybe you would like to try my massage sometime."
Luke read the message and wondered who this guy was. Just yesterday, he was stood up by this therapist, Von, and he was still very pissed over that. Von was a referred masahista, referred by one of Luke's regulars. Luke was instantly attracted to Von, he was uncommonly handsome, tall, with a naturally sexy body, not created in the gym floor. He didn't give a great massage but he was just too darn good-looking. Luke knew he wanted to try him again after that first time. Unfortunately, after setting the visit up, Von didn't show up. He was left high and dry, and super-irritated.
It seemed weird that he would suddenly get this unsolicited massage offer from some strange number.
"Who gave you my number?" Luke asked.
"Von did, Sir."
Whaaat? Luke thought to himself. How dare him give his number away just like that.
"Sorry. I don't entertain therapists who were not referred to me."
"Ah, is that so? No problem, Sir. Thanks."
Oddly, Lorenzo seemed politely. He respected that and stopped texting. Until two weeks after.
"Hello Sir. Kamusta?"
Luke saved his number, just in case. Since he was in a better mood, he decided to reply.
"I'm ok. You?"
"Good, Sir. Maybe you would like to try my massage?"
It's been two weeks since that no-show incident. Luke was horny and quite curious about this guy.
"Hmm. You got an FB account?"
"Sure, Sir. Just search for this." Lorenzo dictated the email address.
Luke quickly searched for the FB profile and looked at the photo. Not bad-looking at all. Though there were certainly some unflattering angles.
"Did you see it, Sir?"
"Yes. I found it. How tall are you?"
"5'11" po."
"Is Von your friend?"
"He's actually my cousin, Sir. Would you like to try?"
"How much is your PF?"
"P2K Sir."
"Ahh. Too much. Beyond budget." Luke never paid more than P1,500.
"But that includes all the extra, Sir."
"I have regular therapists that give me all I need at less cost."
"Like how much, Sir?"
Bargaining time. "P1,200 max"
"Wow, Sir. That's too low."
"Well, sorry. That's all I'll pay for it." Luke was driving a hard bargain. Horny and achy as he was, he still could forego another week without a massage.
"Sir, just add a little more. Please."
That 'please' part surprised Luke. He looked at the FB profile again. He wondered how he would actually look in person.
"I'll add P200 more."
"Make it P300, Sir. Please. You won't regret it."
Horniness got the better of him and he agreed. They set the time for early evening.
Lorenzo was prompt. He walked inside the living room and Luke knew he wasn't exaggerating about the height. He is tall and lanky, broad shouldered. He had thick eyebrows on a long face. He was better looking in person, though still not as handsome as Von.
Luke showed him the way to the bedroom. Lorenzo gamely took of his clothes and was down to his underwear, boxer briefs. Luke stripped naked and lied down on the bed. The massage started.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, March 16, 2015
Labels
I noticed how two of the most significant and beautiful teachings of Jesus he imparted to people whom I would have thought would have been persona non grata - a scribe and a Pharisee (Nicodemus).
"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart... You shall love your neighbor as yourself." From Friday's gospel (Mark 12:28 - 34)
"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son..." From yesterday's gospel (John 3:14 - 21)
Not all scribes and Pharisees were hypocrites. Jesus could see their hearts and know which ones were and which ones weren't. Intentions were crystal clear to him. So he knew right off, who was asking for the sake of truly understanding him. And he knew who was simply trying to ensnare him.
It is so easy for us to pass judgment on those different from us on the basis of their religious belief, gender preference, political affiliation, among other "labeling" methods. We behave differently towards them once we have 'labelled' them, even without getting to know them better.
Yet, based on these examples, Jesus did not treat people 'lump sum', based simply on labels. He talks to a Samaritan woman. He has dinner with a tax collector. He heals the servant of a centurion. And he tells a scribe "You are not far from the Kingdom of God." Because he sees their hearts, he goes beyond these labels and does not withhold love, compassion or mercy.
Since we do not have His insight into men and their hearts, Jesus instructs us not to 'judge' one another. We should not behave differently, or withhold love or compassion, on the basis of the 'label' we have put on a person: Muslim, transgender, Binay supporter.
I pray that I be granted that heart that sees beyond labels. And that I be forgiven for all the many times that I have failed.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart... You shall love your neighbor as yourself." From Friday's gospel (Mark 12:28 - 34)
"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son..." From yesterday's gospel (John 3:14 - 21)
Not all scribes and Pharisees were hypocrites. Jesus could see their hearts and know which ones were and which ones weren't. Intentions were crystal clear to him. So he knew right off, who was asking for the sake of truly understanding him. And he knew who was simply trying to ensnare him.
It is so easy for us to pass judgment on those different from us on the basis of their religious belief, gender preference, political affiliation, among other "labeling" methods. We behave differently towards them once we have 'labelled' them, even without getting to know them better.
Yet, based on these examples, Jesus did not treat people 'lump sum', based simply on labels. He talks to a Samaritan woman. He has dinner with a tax collector. He heals the servant of a centurion. And he tells a scribe "You are not far from the Kingdom of God." Because he sees their hearts, he goes beyond these labels and does not withhold love, compassion or mercy.
Since we do not have His insight into men and their hearts, Jesus instructs us not to 'judge' one another. We should not behave differently, or withhold love or compassion, on the basis of the 'label' we have put on a person: Muslim, transgender, Binay supporter.
I pray that I be granted that heart that sees beyond labels. And that I be forgiven for all the many times that I have failed.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
AQAG #5
Anong gagawin mo kung may nakahubad na lalaki/babae sa harap mo?
Ah. The typical "How LGBT are you?", methinks, as if my sexual preference is a result of not having been exposed to a naked woman (since I am gay).
But I have been asked this previously. I laughed at it. I think I answered with a question. Why would a girl be naked in front of me in the first place? They clarified with "an intention to seduce me." I got totally uncomfortable and muttered something like "nothing..."
I have had sexual intercourse with a woman. I enjoyed it, as far as being able to reach an orgasm is concerned. I was not sexually aroused by her body, by her breasts or her vagina. But my penis reacted when she started touching it, and as I mounted her.
This was way back. I don't think I could even muster an erection if it happened to me now.
Reading her response, I got the intent of the question all wrong:
Kung lalagyan ng malisya, ang inaasahang sagot sa tanong na ito ay "siyempre, susunggaban ko." May pagtingin kasi na ang mga LGBT ay hayok sa laman, walang pinapalampas at join sa lahat.
Ang caricature, ang two-dimensional, ang unfair. Choosy din naman kami.
Ohhhh. So, in my situation, it would have been a naked guy in front of me. What would I do? I admit I am a sexual person. And I get aroused by men I find attractive. So the answer would be tentative. "Ano ba ang itsura niya? With a twinkle in my eyes.
Am I reinforcing the caricature with such an answer?
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Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Take His Name In Vain
I've wondered how one "takes the name of the Lord God in vain"? I've grown up believing that this is as simple as using God's name when cursing. OMG! Jesus Christ! - have I broken the Commandment then?
According to dictionary.com: "in vain" - without effect or avail; to no purpose
There are many references that appear online when I googled the verse. Most of these center on the behavior of swearing. One swears to testify to the truth of one's statements. It is beyond a statement. And usually, a swear statement is uttered when listeners doubt the veracity of the statement.
Statement:
I am a graduate of Harvard.
Swear statements:
I swear I am a graduate of Harvard.
I swear under oath that I am a graduate of Harvard.
I swear, on my grandmother's grave, that I graduated from Harvard.
I swear, with God as my witness, that I graduated from Harvard. (Or 'so help me God')
I swear, and may God strike me dead if it is not true, that I graduated from Harvard.
The last two statements use God. His Name becomes a testament to the truth of statement. Is this in violation of the commandment? To my opinion, it is not IF that statement is actually true, if that statement has a purpose.
It becomes "vain" if that statement is false. It has no effect or bearing because it is untrue. And this is the biggest offense or dishonor to God's name. One should not dare use His Name to claim a false statement. It is the worst insult and disregard of God. It is a profanity.
In the New Testament, Jesus 'fulfills' this and goes beyond by reiterating that one "should say yes when one means yes and no when one means no". When one is truthful and honest, there is no need for swearing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
According to dictionary.com: "in vain" - without effect or avail; to no purpose
There are many references that appear online when I googled the verse. Most of these center on the behavior of swearing. One swears to testify to the truth of one's statements. It is beyond a statement. And usually, a swear statement is uttered when listeners doubt the veracity of the statement.
Statement:
I am a graduate of Harvard.
Swear statements:
I swear I am a graduate of Harvard.
I swear under oath that I am a graduate of Harvard.
I swear, on my grandmother's grave, that I graduated from Harvard.
I swear, with God as my witness, that I graduated from Harvard. (Or 'so help me God')
I swear, and may God strike me dead if it is not true, that I graduated from Harvard.
The last two statements use God. His Name becomes a testament to the truth of statement. Is this in violation of the commandment? To my opinion, it is not IF that statement is actually true, if that statement has a purpose.
It becomes "vain" if that statement is false. It has no effect or bearing because it is untrue. And this is the biggest offense or dishonor to God's name. One should not dare use His Name to claim a false statement. It is the worst insult and disregard of God. It is a profanity.
In the New Testament, Jesus 'fulfills' this and goes beyond by reiterating that one "should say yes when one means yes and no when one means no". When one is truthful and honest, there is no need for swearing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, February 28, 2015
AQAG #6
Kung bakla ka, bakit ka nagpapalaki ng katawan?
I grew up at a time when the idea of "straight-acting" was not yet part of the collective consciousness. There were only two categories of males: macho and bakla. Bakla meant being overtly effeminate, sexually desiring men and aspiring to be female.
I was effeminate as a child. Mahinhin. I wasn't into sports. And eventually, I started fantasizing about sex with men. I was identified quickly as Bakla. But as I got into college, despite my effeminate ways, I couldn't fully relate to that female-aspiring homosexual model. I had no interest in women's clothes or in make-up. Though I hung out with some friends who were overtly effeminate, I didn't share their penchant for femininity.
I honestly felt quite alone. I aspired to look 'masculine', and even wanted to bulk up. Male clothes appealed to me, not girls' apparel or accessories.
I came across gay porn then. And that opened my eyes to hot, masculine men having sex with other hot, masculine men. Then, slowly but surely, American gay literature started to trickle in. The way gay men were described there was exactly my ideal - still masculine, even buff and muscular, yet hooking up with other gay guys like them. The term was 'macho gay'.
Today, with more and more representation in media, the straight-acting gay man is becoming more recognized. But you would still encounter throwback to that time when the categories were two. Hence, the question persists.
His response: Kasi idol ko si Serena Williams at health buff ako, bawal ba?
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