concrete jungle where this post is made of

I miss New York City.

So I'm sorry if I'll have to drag you to this photo dump. But enjoy!

I went to New York last year from March to April. It was really freezing during the first days. But I've been to NY for numerous times, so the bipolar weather isn't really surprising.

sorry for the poor quality. might have been good if i was the one taking it
but that would be impossible unless there was a huge mirror in front of me

I stayed at Marriott Marquis at Times Square and had a pretty good view of the center of the universe

a line of yellow cabs! and of course, the Scientology church!
I really can't believe Tom Cruise believes in this uhm, 'belief'

and then I saw the Naked Cowboy and his freezing ass!

then of course I rode the Subway because it was the most convenient mode to go around
but it didn't cause my breakouts for the record

and then I saw this really cool off-broadway show called Fuerza Bruta. it was innovative which involved a lot of audience participation and was absolutely FUN. I highly recommend it!

then I managed to have a Gray's Papaya breakfast

then watched the sky from my hotel window fall down on Manhattan as Spring came in

oh and I wasn't alone. I was part of a college delegation, to take part in a model UN.
we represented Iraq

I was in the 'General Assembly' and this was our conference hall

and this is a sneaky picture of my co-delegate having been jet-lagged during formal session.

and this is me proud of where I come from! Brunei represent!

and this is the UNGA Hall. maybe my future workplace ;-)

Then I'll post more photos on New York next time.

Oh and watch this kids belting out their rendition of that famous Alicia Keys song. Touching. ♥

Ang paglaladlad: ang dilemma

The truth is I really want to tell my parents the truth. The whole family. It gets tiring to keep a big secret from them, especially when you're just a couple of years away when they would ask about settling down.

The big secret that I'm gay.

My brother has known of my preference for a long time now. Even before I came out to him. He may not have shown me his acceptance the first time I told him, but his tolerance from the day he realized and the day I came out to him are just enough for me to be really grateful to him. Well even if we share condoms and lube, that is. He's straight, by the way.

My brother is overly-protective of me, and I always feel touched when he shows this side of him to me. Whenever I get into trouble, he would always be there to defend me. He's older than me, and we're only two, and he better be defensive for his lil' bro. As I'm close to his friends and when his friends and I are in tension, he's always there on my side, even if it was me who hath wronged at the start.

I can sense, and feel it that he supports me of whatever I am. Whenever I see his friends, they always tell me how proud my brother is of me, and how much he loves me. My brother happens to talk so much about me. Which is like me when I'm with my friends.

But my parents.. oh yeah, my very conservative and very religious parents. I don't know how to handle them sometimes. It's tough when you're all watching TV and all of a sudden a sensitive topic is discussed and they get so angry. Topics like abortion, divorce, gay marriage -- topics that every hardcore Catholic mom and dad would be very vocal against. It hurts me to know and foresee that if ever I tell them about my topic, I might face damnation.

I'm a very secular person. Perhaps because I've grown up elsewhere and I've grown up with diversity, and finding common ground with their people was a challenge. Religion was of course out of the question. But I did have a lot of friends and even with the distance, we're still 'close'. I may have my stance against abortion, but I respect the choices other people make. Their choices aren't for me, but for them. It's their responsibility to make, and like each other's responsibilities, we treat each other with respect.

I still believe in God. All religions believe in one God. We just call God differently. Faith is something important. It's something invisible, but you can feel that it's strong. When I feel losing grip on situations, and nothing else to cling to, I always think about my faith. Maybe faith can explain what else is there for me to exist for.

But religion, it's just not for me. How can I entrust myself to believe in a set of beliefs, when one of which I can't seem to believe in. When rather than feeling you're in the right path, you would feel being the wrong one all along.

God is love. Love is a good feeling. God is good. Homosexuality may be a sin in the church I go to, but I believe there's nothing wrong with me. What's really wrong is the people who keeps on believing that they're on the good side because they're associated with what they think is good. But what's good for them can't always be good for everyone.

I love my parents very much. I just wish they'd be happy for me as well. They're really good people, and I wouldn't turn out to be like this if it weren't for their upbringing. They're already getting old and I want to see them be happy for me as I am happy for myself. I want them to know that the faith they planted in me still lives, and is very personal to me. I want them to know that it doesn't matter what kind of religion or faith it is, but the importance to believe in something superior, almighty and all good, that is enough. All relationships that are bonded by the purity of love is blessed by God. Whatever it takes for the person to love God more, and have a better relationship, is special, and good. God is love.

Flirting inside the church

Although my parents don't know I've realized that religion isn't for me, I still come with them to hear mass every Sunday. Usually we attend the evening mass since the weather has cooled down a bit, but since the beginning of this month I've started to cut Sunday morning sleeping hours because my dad wants us to attend the 9am mass.

And also since we changed schedule of attending mass, I couldn't seem to concentrate on the solemnity of the celebration. Some guys don't really have the respect and wouldn't mind what they're doing in front of God. And it's been going on for two masses now. The same guy. He looks at me, and keeps on looking, and giving weird gestures. And flutters his eyes at me.

He may be a bit good looking but what in the wonk is he doing? Is he in his good mind to flirt with someone inside the church? Also he acts too much camp. And I wouldn't like that.

Really, now. What are people doing in churches these days? Tabarnak!

Finding a Job

I'm still unemployed.

Yesterday, another jobless friend of mine and I walked around the financial heart of the metropolis to submit applications in various agencies, companies, embassies. Yes, we were walk-in applicants, and clueless if there really is an open position. It was one of the most difficult things I've gone through chasing careers, but I don't regret doing so. It was fun, especially when you do it with a friend. Thankfully a lot of offices were accommodating even collecting our resumes, and some were just so stern to say that they don't have any open jobs at the moment and never hesitated to get our resumes. We were never interviewed, which was fine, as we don't have an appointment with the HR. But sometimes it felt like asking "who are we? didn't we graduate from a good school and got good degrees? don't we have good credentials etc.?"

It was also hot and humid yesterday. And we were both wearing corporate attire. We also had to debate with a few security guards for us to be let inside certain buildings. Even if I have a lot of issues from yesterday, come to think of it, most of them were actually things that were expected to happen.

We just weren't warned that jobhunting can actually cause you to have altitude sickness and mild claustrophobia. Really. As we went out of the last elevator we were in, we both felt sick and dizzy. I think I rode the elevator some 30 times yesterday. And there are actually a lot of types of elevators. Some are just too fast, and some are too small.

But we're going to do this again, next week, until we land in an interview and finally get a job. So beware! Say "Hi!" if you see us!

For now, I'm calling various offices if they have positions. It's to save us from being a bit aimless like yesterday.

Oh yeah, remember that post when I said something about having a lot of interviews in that week? Well, for all of them, I only went to the initial interview. Some of the offers were either too low or too offshoot from my experience, while some just never called me again for the second interview.

9/11

I am also a New Yorker.

Ten years ago, all of us in the family slept in the parents' bedroom as we shared tears on one of the most humbling moments that defined the century, caught on television. We called relatives to know how they were doing, if they were safe, if they were sound.

9/11 was such a melancholy. To see one of the greatest cities in the world to fall victim to a coward act known as terrorism. To see such the most powerful country in the world be humbled in some event that ocurred in a Tuesday morning.

I am not an American, but I am a New Yorker. It is depressing to still hear about the stories made by this catastrophe. I do not live in New York City, but I am a New Yorker. We are New Yorkers.

I am not an American, I am Filipino. But even if 9/11 didn't happen in the Philippines, my life and the world as a whole had changed as a result from the events of the Tuesday morning in September.

I may have a thousand reasons to loathe America, but I can find a million reasons to love America. I♥NY

Understanding Español

Growing up, my parents really exposed us to different cultures even if they themselves came from very diverse backgrounds. But I'm not going to delve on that.

I hope you know that for some 300 years, the Philippines was under Spanish rule. We were colonized thrice, twice by Westerners, and once by the Japanese. So it's no joke when we say we're really Westernized Asians. I think our language is 30% Spanish.

Anyway, my parents do have bloodlines that trace to Spanish origins, and both of them studied Spanish in school when it was compulsory for them to study the language. My mom, coming from an autocratic household in one of the island provinces in the central part of the country, had a strict grasp on Spanish as she lived with her grandparents who raised her "trilingually" with the language in addition to their local language spoken there and English. Filipino, or Tagalog, only came to her mouth when she left for Manila.

That was how my mom grew up. And in time, that was also how I and my brother grew up.

When we were based in Brunei, my parents hosted a Spanish au pair as they wanted us to be exposed in a language that they were also exposed to. They also felt that they were losing grasp of their Spanish tongue. I remember, Irene (pronounced as "ee-reh-neh"), from day one she was with us, talked to me and my bro in Spanish. I remember that it was such a nightmare because we really had a hard time grasping what she was saying. Like come on, a stranger suddenly appears at your house, and talks to you like you're long distant cousins, and eventually she lives with you for 7 months and you can't understand much of what she's saying. It felt like we were living with an alien!

Until she started taking Malay lessons then she began to practice Malay with us to help her. And then as if in an instant, Spanish became a mutually-intelligible language to us.

I never had the proper training of speaking Spanish, that's why until now I can't do so. Yo puedo hablar español, pero un poco (I can speak Spanish, but a little). But if I were to pull on a conversation with a Spanish speaker, then maybe my tongue would just roll in if I needed to reply in Spanish. Although I can't speak decently, I can still grasp the meaning of a lot of phrases. I think the mutual intelligibility of the language has stayed in me. It's weird. My Spanish vocabulary is poor, but it wonders me how I get to understand what they say.

Well I listen to a lot of Spanish and Latino music, and nowadays I'm hooked to listening to Reik, which is a Mexican trio (and they're hot too! like muy caliente! y sus video hay igual esto mucho caliente). So this song's called 'Peligro' which means 'danger'. I'm confident of the meaning because Filipinos use the word too, if not saying 'panganib'. Anyway, I'm going to write down what I think the guy's telling in the song. He's singing in the Mexican accent, which is different to what I'm accustomed to. But yeah, let me try to translate it for you. It's a fine and catchy song, so you'll like it.





(I) was not able to.. estimate distance
Made a mistaken turn... such typical story
and in an irrational, electric pulse
my heart races in your direction.


I am sickened, by your mood swings
Automatically, I still have thoughts of you
If I take a step further
We won't get back, since we didn't return.


Over and over again I have to fight myself


I live in danger and again I'm running in fire
You kiss me and I fall in your gamble
Danger/risk of falling
Lost in your voice
Can't hear my own sixth sense


You use on me, your hipnotizing voice
Again I'm coming to you, (being) illogical
(I) don't know how to cross, a maze that I built
Wanting to get over you


Over and over again, I stumble back to you.... (then it repeats its chorus -- the "I live in danger..." line)


I really don't know. Is it a gift or what? Maybe I can be a Spanish-English transcriber. Interesting, no?

And what about you? How many languages can you speak? Understand? I can also speak Malay and Indonesian as they're mutually-intelligible as well. In total, I think I know how to speak some 7-8 languages in varying degrees.

Funny to say but, I get nostalgic when I hear my dad's loud snoring. Reminds me of my teeny days back in Brunei where I often sneaked out of the house. The go-signal for me to sneak out depended on the volume of his snores. Cute.

Dreams of ex'es

Some time this week, I woke up from a very weird dream that it felt so surreal that in the last visions of my dream I was also lying in my bed and when I woke up, of course I was doing the same, but with the same position that I was having in my dream.

The dream was so vivid that I can still remember a few but important details.

It started with myself with some important people to me at the airport. Apparently I was flying out as there was something about my career that needed to bring me there. Then after scenes of myself inside the airplane, there I was, in some country I believe is in Europe. In my dream I was inside a cafe having a chat with the waiter in the local language I can't seem to decipher what it could be. But I think the topic was interesting that the waiter decided to take the seat with me as I was by my lonesome. It was cold, as I was still wearing layers even if inside the cafe. Soon, my brother arrived with a close friend whom I haven't seen for a long while now and haven't even talked to. So it was me, my brother, my friend and the waiter having some chat inside the cafe. Some time after, it started to snow heavily and then this is what made it weird: my ex appeared.

First, he was just outside looking through the cafe's glass panel, and maybe since he saw me, he decided to come in. And then and there all of us were having a good time amid the cold. Until my ex and I had to excuse ourselves when the snow stopped. As soon as we went out of the cafe, he threw his arms around me so quick and hugged me tight that it was impossible to breathe. Then the next scene of the dream was me and him lying in my bed. Then this was when I woke up.

It doesn't end there. When I woke up, I looked at my phone to check the time when I saw I also had one message coming from my ex.

Here's the deal. I haven't made contact to my ex for such a long time already. Even if we're in good terms, and we're both happy for each other, the last time I saw him was before he left for Korea. And the last time we've spoken or talked was two years ago. He's Korean, actually. And the reason why we haven't talked is because he was doing his military service which started in 2009. But last week, he got discharged. He's not in the Philippines. And we didn't meet here, we met in Brunei.

Anyway, guess what he messaged me. "Hey! How are you? Just to let you know, I've already been out of the service since last week. Telling you now because I actually had a dream of you last night..."

It's weird how your subconscious plays on you.


Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't been updating that often again. I'm not really busy but I'm at this point in time that I'm losing the drive to write in my blog. I don't know why. Maybe because I'm having these episodes again? If you also have the same thing that I'm having, I guess you know how it feels when you have it?

Honestly, I want to tolerate my feelings when I feel what I feel.

Sometimes I go whole days listening, bored, half sleep
I won't say anything that's worth a thing to me
One day, suddenly, time took a turn that once felt so brief
I blinked to see polite ghosts fading quickly


What begins as an unguarded train of thought slowly can become
An addiction to the slumber of disconnection
And the resonance of memory that no longer has a shape
But keeps you numb through the hours till gone is another day