Another Survival

Why did it take so long for me to update again?

Well, see here, I've mentioned about being the middle child and coming from a broken home. In this broken home set up, we have already reached the pre empty nest stage wherein we, the kids, should be taking off, however, the broken home per se as one of the factors, our eldest brother has a combination of the failure to launch syndrome and the Prince of Wales syndrome. If my mother made a miscalculation by treating me like crap, she made a bigger miscalculation by treating our eldest first born as a buddha. Thus the buoyant, bouncy and corpulent shape with the matching sluggish and sloth like lifestyle married with the illusions of grandeur that everything is as feasible as a fairytale (especially if he cries and dramatizes)-- mama would simply melt and give him his candy. Awww (fuck it.)

It gets on our mom's nerves but hey, she spoiled him before and she never will stop spoiling him. I told her that, but noooo-- like the complex equation above just said: she treats me like crap.

And yes she does and it shows as a warrant of arrest with my name on it was presented by a policeman outside our house nearly two weeks ago. I'm not at fault, but let's just say since my signature is on a check for a business of ours and my mother, bright and devious as she is in balancing and upping the ante to her favor, with me expendable of course, deffered payment to a supplying company.

It's not her name. It's mine. So yeah, she'd probably do a gung ho accounting stunt since it wasn't her goose that was gonna get cooked. I had to run and hide at my dad's subdivision in Laguna where the long arm of the law won't be able to reach my poor waning CD4 cells, who were just dying to find out that I was being charged by the Republic of the Philippines.

Surprised, I was solid that day it happened. I just kept quiet and smug about everything. Hey, she treats me like shit anyway, so what's new? It's just a degree higher (or should I say lower?). Am I this numb already? My younger sister was definitely pissed, probably because she saw everything from neutral ground, seeing that I'm doing what I can too help out with the businessess, as our Happy Buddha of an older brother stays happy as the buddha he is, chomping on the pie in the sky that's his girlfriend, who, by the way, will probably never make it to my christmas Card list or anyone in our family's at all for quite sometime.

We can spot a user a mile away, Fatso! Use your head!

Well, after hiding, I posted bail with the help of my mum's attorney. Well at least she thought of HELPING the dirt beneath her feet.

Thank goodness I'm still alive, OK, and amazingly not questioning why these are happening. Honestly, I don't wanna mind them too much. It's not good for me. I'm focusing on my closer friends who I play sports with regularly.

Some of them know, some of them don't, but they're real people. They're not the Ladida Society that go out clubbing and acting so nuveau and pleasing people, who don't care about the new stuff that they bought, or the expensive adventures and latest drugs that they shoved up their noses. Nope, they ain't that. They're people I can talk to when I'm feeling odd and they really listen and help out. They won't stab you on the back because they're not the Gossip Girl type shit that everyone's trying to be nowadays.

All this angst and I'm still ok and smiling coz I know that with the company I'm keeping, the sun is shining on this side of Manila for me.

It helps me survive. It's just that as life will always continue to pour the sweetness and the bitterness and all other kinds of bruhaha, as I have passion for my friends, their problems also affect me and just today a bitter ordeal has struck one of my close friends.

A break up. A gay break up. Usually, for most, they're as common as the jeepneys that add a silvery shade of bull shit to our Metro traffic, gay relationships come and go fast, hard and you wouldn't even know it happened if you don't update regularly.

Here's the sad part: in our team, we all love both of them. Of course, both probably made a mistake, but one had to cheat, and it was the younger one (as usual). They're age gap's kinda big, so I wasn't surprised, it's a technical you-ought-to-know, but it's still different when it really happens to people close to you. This is the part I really don't like: I don't mind if I'm the one getting rained on, but if it's someone I care about, it really affects me (eg Michael Jackson, I cried for him already, he will always be the King of Pop and media treated him worse than how my mum treated me, so I'm really sorry for it, MJ. We love you).

I survived. I'm gonna get through this. We're in this together. It's not game over for me. It won't be game over for you. There's tomorrow. Life goes on. Love goes on. Everything changes and movesin fidgets or leaps and bounds. Everything.

This is supposed to really bother me, but it's not anymore. Maybe because the worst has happened. Or maybe I'm as numb as the corns on my feet. Hah!

Survival. It's a jungle everywhere nowadays.

*Snaps for Everyone*

A Letter From a Far Away Friend

I'm going to paste a friend's letter here. I just received it today and it really warms my heart, thought short, it's precise.

We've never met in person. I talked to the guy online and he is one of those rare people who makes sense and keeps the internet worthwhile.

Statistically, I've had more nasty and carnal experiences from eye balls. I mean, in a country that nurtures a culture that frowns upon my people, we have no choice but to interact in the shadows of online chat and profiles. With this being the case, it is difficult to find real and honest to goodness people. There is a larger chunk of the online gay population in the Philippines that are just there to screw you and forget what happened. What about those who are just new in knowing that they're gay? Most of their hopes and dreams will be shattered simply just by meeting with the wrong people who are everwhere.

With this thought in mind, I will timidly celebrate this short letter I have received from a good soul that is immune to the limits of boundaries and distance.

And the letter goes:

Happy Early Birthday 

d:-) 

I believe that life has significant things in store for you. You have the warm heart of an activist determined that the misconceptions perpetuated for generations do not tarnish the spirit of those vulnerable enough to believe without question. Your strength in that realm suggests that in addition to fueling your own passion, you have the capability to touch the lives of others. And all you really have to do, in order to do so, is to live your beautiful life as true to yourself as you possibly can. 

Take a look at the cute boy in that profile picture of yours. The warmth radiates from your eyes into open hearts. 

I tell myself those words when my mind wants to drifts towards fatalistic thoughts surrounding the brain tumor a doctor discovered I had last year. Kinda Inoperable. Possibly Debilitating. But I don't have enough energy to devote to focusing on that. So I focus on maintaining my health & happiness, as best I can (even those sometimes I don't). Therein lies my peace. 

Anytime you need a friendly word my brotha. I am here. 

With an open heart. 

And as the letter ends, I take a moment to smile and thank the stars that I simply am and simply still.

It's not all that bad.

Usually I have a moment of tears a few days before my birthday. This year, there is none. Why? I do not know. The morale I have can be as neutral as it could be at the moment. My first birthday knowing that I am positive-- it doesn't really strike me much as I have expected. A bonus year, perhaps? There are things that I have to do, that's why He allows me to live still.

I have to find out what must be done and I have to do it as soon as possible, I guess.

I'm starting slowly... or the elders say I've started quite quickly.

Doesn't matter. I've started.

*SNAPS FOR EVERYONE*

Meeting an Old Friend Anew

I had to drink an entire glass of water before typing this down and believe me, the glasses used for water drinking in this house are BIG.

We really don't like going back to the fridge to pour more water so we got them big designer plastic tumbler types in the kitchen.

Anyways...

Yesterday was yet another trip to RITM, and while waiting for the nurse, we stayed at the isolated ward at the end of the quadrangle. Of course, those waiting for nurse Anna would always go straight there and funk around with the other possies and exchange memoires and anecdotes of their lives.

I discovered something new about that room yesterday. It felt like it was going to be familiar to the "THIS IS YOUR LIFE" show wherein people who have come and gone in your life will ust walk through the door and surprise you; there was a guy whom I dated way back in 2006 who busted through the entrance with his partner.

How did it go?

At first he was ignoring me. Maybe he was finding out a way to explain why he was there in that same room as me. Maybe he was a bit ashamed? Maybe he was too preoccupied about how to digest the entire endeavor of being possitive... or maybe he just didn't see me at all. Maybe the lighting on top of me wasn't very flattering, and I should have moved near the window where the sun rays could hit me for that, oh so sought for prom queen glow.

Anyway, within a few moments after bickering about the unfair lighting, his eyes zero in on me and I utter the name which only I knew I called him. A nick name made from his first given name that sounded very Filipino.

There it was. That same moreno chinito smile that added to the happiness of Happy Feet, the movie that we watched in our first and last date in 2006. It was a sight for sore eyes.

We started talking immediately like it was no one's business. With all due respect, however, to his partner, I was formally introduced and I made it clear that we were just catching up with the good old times. His partner, gracefully, reciprocates accordingly.

So how long have you been this way? Who do you think gave it to you? Really? Needle in a haystack too?! So how did it feel at first? Who in your family knows? What did he think when you found out you were?

The Q&A portion just kept rolling and the entire room was busy with pusits interacting with each other. Jokingly, in drama, seriously, even with business, stories, Aling Dionisia and Manny Pacquiao topics, shopping, family or just simply things and topics to pass the time it was as human as it can be.

Hey, we still are. We're just... sun kissed (?) hahahahaha~

Anyway, I had to bounce to Alabang Town Centre for a moment because my sister in law who lives in Alabang Village, who happens to be a doctor, wanted to see me and check on my condition.

My sister in law has always been fond of me for my wise cracks and my gab and the way I was just so in synch and yet so different from the rough yet adorable boys in our clan. All the boys in our clan, even though we look profound, are green jokers and trash talkers at heart. As grounded as can be and as 'kenkoy' as we could get, all the boys, including me, have that thing going on.

Seeing that my skin is still in great condition and pretty much hasn't changed, except that my hair grew longer, she felt great as I explained to her my condition and that I was in good hands under the care of the folks in RITM.

We chatted for about an hour and a half in Coffee Bean at ATC. On my way back to the car park, there was this  tall (taller than me, I'm 5'8 he was around 5'10 Eeeek~) and hot dude (I think he was a kid, and I was right, he was 23) went up to me and gave me his card, asking if I could get in touch with him soon for a movie...

(Gusto kaya nya magkasakit? hahahahaha~)

Shit, diba? I love Alabang! I'm gonna buy a place to live in na there.

Anyway, after parking the car at RITM and walking towards the unit in the quadrangle, I saw a group of fruities accross and one of them was familiar.

A very powerful flashback rushed in my mind.

Last December, our fag hag made a request for her birthday, as she knew she was about to leave for USA at the turn of the year. Her very words were, quoted in Filipino:

"Guys, magpa check na kayo, madami na ang possitive na umiikot ikot dito sa Manila at madami din sa kanila ay hindi alam na ganun ang kanilang kalagayan."

<"Guys, have yourself checked, a lot are already possitive and prancing around Manila, a lot of them not knowing that they are and they're spreading it around.">

And with her request, our collective feelings were all of mixed aspects and polairites. There was fear, there was confusion, there was sloth, there was pride, there was even wrath at the fact that why did such a virus existed.

And there I stood accross the quadrangle. One of the same people who was with me that night, during December 2008, heeding the message of our fag hag elder, was standing right before me, accross the garden. We ran to each other accross the garden and hugged. He is a brother of mine now and even the company he was with were all familiar to me. I even knew their names and they were surprised that I had such a good memory to know all their names. I was shocked myself because I'm not good with names.

It was a moment that I would keep in my heart forever.

I knew in my heart, I was not alone and true enough, no man is an island.

But now, meeting him again there, even my ex date and noticing something about everyone in that place; everyone has this quality of maturity that cannot be bested by most. True, the quality of gold increases as it passes through the most searing fires.

I feel less lonely now. Focus was already strong yet stronger it grows. My place, I now know. My direction, I now smile at with open arms.

It's like meeting again in aother place and another time, far from the world we once knew as that of the normies.

We're vampires na ba? Wizards? Nah... sun kissed maybe? hahahaha

A Blast From The Past

Two weeks after taking my trial period of ARV (anti retrovirals) and I seemingly did not have any undesirable reactions, I visited RITM (Research Institute for Tropical Medicine) as per an appointed date with my doctor and I had to restock.

Accompanied by an old friend of mine who's been a well honed nurse and instructor, the trip wasn't as lonely as before. In fact, jokes came flying here and there as I drove through the traffic infested metro down to the south express way. It had been quite sometime since I had caught up with my pal, Joseph. He's been through a lot of heavy problems too, and it seemed he was one of the more objective and calm people when I openned up about my being positive.

After taking the morning ARV set that I needed, we were told that the doctor would still be in at 2 PM so we decided to have lunch at ATC. Hey, cmon, we're Metro Manila dwellers, it's a rare occasion that we're in Alabang during lunch time... so we had CPK at ATC. Wow, we have that at Trinoma naman, diba?

After succesfully convincing Joseph to order the Thai Crunch Salad that changed his entire paradigm about asian salads, I rewarded myself by playing one of my favorite video games in Time Zone-- Tekken 6 Blood Rebellion.

Kinda weird, huh? This doesn't sound like a blog by an HIV+ person at all?

Well that's the point, you can't tell if they're positive or not unless you have them checked. These people-- US, live normally like everyone. The doctor told me that she treats it like a  chronic disease. That's it. It's, like, not a plague of epic proportions in the USA-- for real! Again, it's just the fact that we're living in a soppingly hypocritical, severely prudent and image driven (Image?! Hello??) society that ain't doing rat shit for itself for being so.

Well, that piece of angst aside, (I used to have that in spades till I found out I had to chill to keep myself intact) back at the institute where the doctor was waiting, a familiar face bolted into the room where I was consulting with my doctor.

She was one of those legendary people who, for some graced and yet for some gored the streets and the club floors of Malate. Actually, she's a he but I'd adress her with all due respect for the succesful and well rounded implants on her chest. A very familar face with those fierce eyes shown. Eyes that peered into the soul of a clubber. I'm sure, if that clubber was high, he'd break down with a trauma that could last for months. A drag queen? I'm not sure, I wasn't able to ask that and I don't think it'd be the proper place to do so. But she looked straight into my eyes the moment she got in.

"You look very familiar."

Those eyes had a voice. And what a squeaky girly voice it was. That first line dispelled all the industrial strength, drag queen flavor she had in my thoughts. Come to think of it, it's all fiction and made by the cruel mean society that I was also part of. I pre empted that squeaky voice and the depth of those eyes because I saw my other friends shivering in fear, or looking in a disturbed fashion at her, long ago in the club. I pre empted someone who is in the same state as I am. I pre empted someone, way back, who made me feel better today.

"Ye... Yeah, you do too."

I replied in a shy 'Walt Disney's Bambi' like way. But I smiled because I just can't help it. The mythical fierce drag queen in the club is now a person in front of me, as am I, probably to her.

"You'll be OK."

She followed with a smile. OK, the smile scared me a bit, still. But she continued:

"I've been like this for sixteen years! So you'll be OK!~"

Wow, sixteen years of being positive and she still looks healthy and great. Fierce to be exact.

"Really? Gee, thanks... thank you so Much!"

I was at the zenith of being sincere. Much like a dog exposing it's belly to his master, I couldn't help but be thankful and warm to her because the fact that she's the way she is and she's being 'fierce' for 16 years-- that means I'm going to be OK.

That's what Joseph told me too. He also knew her. He also retreated at the sight of her.

No offense to her, at that time, we were not used to seeing people like that. But it was also our mistake not to look closer and question or find out why they get a kick out of being 'drag-ish'.

I'm not confirming her to be a drag queen, it's a profession and it's just that I didn't ask her so I didn't get an answer. What's that word? A tranny... yeah... I think in our world she falls under that bracket.

Her fierceness was a whiff of fresh air and a reminder that I can be fierce too. Well, not that way but I mean I can deal with this. I'll survive. No... I'll simply live.

I'll put it in how Joseph said:

"Wow, 16 years. She's had it for that long: You'll be, OK."

*SNAPS FOR EVERYONE*