The Boy Who Stutters

I heard you came home. You really did it, didn’t you? I don’t know whether I’m sorry we didn’t last or I’m grateful for our story was cut short by circumstances I don’t even remember. But then I would lie if I say I didn’t miss you. We were not friends in Facebook anymore, because you unfriended me before you left. You thought I blocked you, so your impulse was to cut the strings entirely. Then I revealed that I just deactivated my account for a period and that’s why you couldn’t reach me anymore nor send me a message. Your assumption was wrong, and you reacted badly. Funny, you kept in touch via text despite cutting me online. I sound arrogant now, do I? Here you are with your public photos – with your partner and son. What a beautiful family! Your son got your looks – that’s obvious. You’re a loving parent – I could tell. Too loving that we happened. Your arrival should not mean anything. Yet it reminds me of us. It reminds me of the Sunday nights, the impractical travel to Sta. Cru...

“I’m here,” I texted. I waited. You came with your gloomy face. It wasn’t the cheerful vibe I got from our exchanges online. I smiled. You sat beside me. Was it really you? For a second, I felt I met the wrong person.  Who was that? You drew something from your pocket and wallet. You lighted your cigar and started puffing. I still smiled. You finally moved so I followed you. You smoked as we walked so I had to distance myself. You were sorry, or were you? After a grid of streets, we entered your house. You got your own room. It smells though. I still smiled, or did I? You had the courtesy to offer one of the sandwiches you ordered from that Buy 1 Take 1 food stall where we just personally met. I refused; you haven’t eaten yet, you said. I explored your room – with my eyes – as I always do with every new place I’m in. You were a college student. As I’m about to become as well. I sat in front of you. I dare occupying your bed while you sit on your study chair. I wonder if I broke or...

What if that message was sent? Would it change anything? Would he reply?   You bombard yourself with these questions – repeatedly and painfully. Why? On what purpose? You made up your mind, haven’t you? What keeps bothering you? Why bother?   This isn’t the first time. In fact, if you would count every man you endured, you would only lie again when you answer the number of sexual partners you had for the past 12 months. You are going to have yourself tested again. For free condoms and lube, of course . You are going to answer the same questionnaire again. You are going to sign the same disclosure agreement again. Why? You were always safe and sure that your visit to the clinic is really just for the free rubber and lubricant. Or you’re just paranoid about some rashes on your skin.  Fine, you comfort yourself with anything anyways.   And the result was nonreactive. You’re negative, as expected. So the idea of bare still lingers. Curiosity is indeed dan...

Friday, Feb. 15, 2019 ∙ 18:38 Hey –  Got it.  Probably I’m gonna have dinner here first. Then good to go. Just so you know, I’m part Chinese, I tend to have Asian flush syndrome or the face redness when drunk. Just don’t freak out when that happens. People usually get concerned. But not gonna drink much since it’s been long since my last. Thanks. Hey. I’m still dressing. What time? What time? ?? I’m sorry bro..I was waiting too. I’ll be on my way now. Almost there. Traffic jam at rodics. I’m here. Alright. I’m wrapping up naman na. Are you good with TK? Haha don’t worry, that is noted. You don’t have to rush. I’m still waiting for the jeep.  I’m on the jeep. Will wait for you sa Ministop. Mga 8pm or before 8pm nandoon na ako. Malapit na ko. Sa ministop See you bro Rodic’s Bahay ng Alumni? Saturday, Feb. 16, 2019 ∙ 00:39 Nakauwi ka na?  Yup Saturday, Feb. 16, 2019 ∙ 03:14  Hey, sorry I missed your call. I jgh. Anyway, I went out yester-night with an 18-yr old ...

“Is this what I wanted?” you ask yourself repeatedly and tirelessly. “But sex is a need,” you justify rightly every time you guilt yourself. “I will delete the app now,” you promise for the nth time. You don’t believe that, do you? (You did delete it, though – for the nth time. But just reinstall it anytime freely.) * “I guess you’re active,” he teases. You would smirk, as always, when a man lying opposite of you gives that impression. Well, a correct presumption. How could they know? You often ask yourself. You just do hook up at least once a week. Or do you remember the day when you had three? (Not at the same time and altogether, though. But it is another story to tell, I bet. #threesome ) Define active …is what you would reply to the man now breaking your embrace. Then he would predictably refuse to say the word – the act that you just did. The man in his glowing face is now tongue-tied. Well, you’re just trying to keep the conversation he started. How is that a man can ask for se...

"I'm sorry, I'm late." is what either of us would say every time we meet. Perhaps one of us had showered longer than usual and it was always me. I remember bathing so well when I was finally going to formally meet you – not that I didn’t always shower nicely for the meet ups to follow. In fact, I always do. I always bathe too slow or too long that it came to the point it aggravated you. I lived in the north; your place was south of mine and I always bothered to travel that far. It was worth it, I thought. Or at least the sex . It was an empty pleasure just like every hook up I ever had. But you were different. I thought you looked like the man of my dreams – yet I ask myself now if I ever had one – only to find out that everything…was just actually really…a dream. You were a bit of a bothersome but funny, nonetheless. Something I could tolerate. But then I guessed you were the one who couldn’t tolerate me anymore, could you? The blame game started like we were a c...

The sound of the notification from your message always excites me. It is special because I know who I was expecting. I remembered we mutually decided to talk over that messenger. I never used it until you asked me, and I agreed; I guessed you use it for your work or for people like me – a fuck buddy , do you? I don’t care. I followed your lead and the lead was even. Too even we knew what we desired. I stood behind you and you conveniently leaned as if I instructed you to come closer. Your arms were but helpless as I welcomed your firmness. You were soft yet I had to enforce the same strength. I finally made you turn and face the longing thrust. Hands were like magnets and our tongues cannot fully be separated like a wrong key stuck on a doorknob. It is locked, fixed, but maintained its flexibility. The unrest just improves the fluidity of the bones. Too careful and caring, too thoughtful and thorough , you lifted me an inch and pressed harder than you should.  Stop. Let’s sta...

“TVBS?” “What?” “Top, versa, bottom, side?” “Tripper.” “What?” “You’re not gay?” “No.” “Pic?” “Trade.” “After you please.”  Send pictures. Filtered or bare. Just send any. Ask the location. Meet up. Hook Up. Have sex as easy as that. These are the times where convenience is highly sought and technology grants that; media of communication are accessible as ever, so is the sex. A need that necessitates the body and mind to take and give nudity and nothingness for the lack of narcotic. But sex is a drug, isn’t it? Everyone is willing to pay with the right amount of money, dignity, and privacy. Alter folks take it just anywhere – in a public CR, bus, and park. Intimacy is rushed because the risk is to be caught.

A whole new world - where extremities are found as the spectrum prevails. The Alter world has a different atmosphere, but not so different from the society that objectifies the human body and indulges in superficiality. Love and Lust try to co-exist - hence not in that order or sort but in serendipity and desire. A curious teen, confused ones, a lost student, a young professional, pressured peer, a working lad, contractual urban poor, a government employee, passive ones, a married man, separated husband, a medical student, and a nurse. A call center agent, a father to one, two, and three, a massage therapist and a tripper. A teacher, an artist, a writer, a book designer, and actor. A double degree holder and single ones. A musician and a director. From slender wood to solid trunk, the age of the tree does not dictate no one. For the height of the stem complements its branch. Grow. Grow freely and surprise the eyes. The Alter world is the opposite of the exposed. Faces are blu...