The Sucky Ages

She licks, she sucks

In the life that I have lived so far, and it’s not a very long one yet, I have come to the conclusion that the worst ages to be in has got to be: adolescence, 25, and 29, in order of increasing suckiness.

Imagine the time when you were just an adolescent. Personally, I had a pretty OK adolescence, which is to say that I acquired no life-threatening trauma – physical nor psychological. However, I can just imagine how a lot of youngsters of both sexes must have experienced a sucky puberty. For us boys, this was the time when we got teased endlessly about our changing voices. It was excruciatingly embarrassing to be the center of attention when amongst relatives every time a piyok comes out of my throat. It’s also the same situation with girls when they experienced changes in their bodies, and in the process, getting sexually harassed for the very first time in their lives, and this  harassment was all coming from their very own relatives at that! To add to that, we just didn’t know where to fit in – we get scolded for playing with the kids because we’re not being mature; when we try to mingle with the adults they are indignant because we had the nerve to join their group. It sucks to be an out-of-tune, out-of-proportion outcast.

Mightier Than Sword

I miss writing. I know that is a very gay thing to say but yes, I actually do miss writing. It’s been weeks since I’ve last written and I fear that if I don’t write everyday I’m not gonna get my Palancas anymore. Yes, baby gurl, that’s in plural form. But that’s not really my topic now, is it? Nope it sure isn’t. What I’d really want to tell you is why I haven’t been writing. I don’t care if you don’t care why, but reading this post was already written in your little chapter on the “Book of Life” long before you were born (Long live determinism!). Hopefully the post title and picture here have already provided enough intrigue for you to read on.

Water Cooler Story

One of the most important office equipment is the water cooler. Especially in our office where the AC is like a woman experiencing PMS, throwing tantrums that turn our office into the arctic one day and then desert island the next. But most of the time it’s desert island (which I hate because I can’t make porma with my jacket ). So anyways, we have a water cooler (that also has a heater btw, but I don’t use that function often enough so I’ll just call it water cooler). We actually have four, two of which are in our area, located in rooms A and B as illustrated by the blue dots below.

Figure 1. Yes, I have free time to make crude illustrations. What’s a man to do, I was just waiting for my ride to come.

Gimme Back My PJs

They say that more people write poems than read them. With all the junk that people write on the net, this is probably true. I’m trying to reverse this phenomenon by making you read this poem that I wrote. Anyways, this is a form of poetry that is loosely based on what the French call villanelle. I, on the other hand, call it a public service announcement. And an excuse for writing something on the 8th day of 2008. Enjoy!

Parables

When I finally try to get some sleep at 4am and it’s not because of DotA then I know that life is improving. Or is it?

So last week’s hosting gig at Cebu was kind of like my practice session for last night’s performance. My throat hurts like hell from all the talking and voice modulation and it might just be possible that gay people are jealous of this ache in my throat. Or are they?

People have been saying that we should follow our hearts and that we’ll know that we’re doing the right thing because our hearts will tell us so. This could just be it. Or could it?

Yeah, I know, this is a lame post but my muse continually refuses to visit me… the bitch! But hey, it’s all good. We’ll see if my Lilith-less writings will take my other drafts (like “Bactidol and why AAISI’s Christmas Party is Fun-ner“) off the pending list.

Preguntas Complicadas

Bast, via Flickr (CC license)

Why is it that no matter how hard we try to stay away from stuff and situations that make our life troublesome and complicated, it’s like we’re attracting those very same stuff all the more? Why, oh why?

Is this the reason why Friendster made the relationship status “It’s Complicated™”? Is it human nature to cheat on partners? What makes for dissatisfaction and discontent? Is there no such thing as a simple life?

Is this post asking too many questions already? Too serious; too much drama? Good. Coz there’s nothing more annoying than asking too many questions in sequence without allowing for answers.

I have to get back to bed and cook me up some more questions.

Talking Dirty

After fifty-two private posts, I’ve realized that I’ve got to write some public ones, too, else I could be branded as a diary-writing gay person. Not that there’s anything wrong with people who write diaries and there’s definitely nothing sick about gay people, more power to you guys… or gals… woohoo! It’s just that one purpose of a blog is to form a community of readers and when you get a lot of them already, hopefully you get advertisers, who will then clutter up your website, which in turn will annoy the hell out of the readers and then you’ll eventually lose them all. *Then* you’re back to private posting. But for now here’s a public post for you, baby gurl. It’s about philosophy. See if you can find it.