Masisisi mo ba ako?

Kaloka ka lang.

Naaayos mo ang mga sira sirang gamit ko.

Yung laptop ko na dati ay madilim ang display, napaliwanag mo. Yung sana'y malamig ko na pasko, napag init at napa lagablab mo. Ang makulimlim kong buhay ay napapaliwanag mo ng bonggang bongga.
Yung mga halik mo nakakapawi ng mga lungkot at takot ko. Yung yakap mo, nakakapag aalis ng inis at pagod ko.

Yung cell phone ko na matagal ko na hindi magamit dahil ayaw gumana, naayos at napagana mo. Pati ang gutay gutay ko na na mga pinapangarap sa buhay, naipagtatagpi tagpi mo. Yung mga basag basag ko na na mga hinahangad at di na pinaniniwalaan, na iis-is at napapakinang mo ulit.

Ngayon...

Masisisi mo ba ako kung ayaw ko na ikaw pakawalan pa? Na ayaw ko na ikaw ma experience ng iba? Na gusto ko na lang umuwi sa mga yakap at halik mo?

Masisisi mo ba ako kung gustuhin kong sirain na lang ng bonggang bongga ang buhay ko at ipaayos na lang sa yo?

Etchos lang!

Mas sira sira kaya ang buhay mo kesa sa kin hehehehe

Charing kanding nga nag tambling!
Etchos lucos nalumos sa ginamos!

I love you... Puta ka! Magsawa ka sa iba!

Ex-tensions (The after death Chronicles Final Part)

And so the final piece needs to be written. I really was hesitating to write it, but then, some things just have to come full circle. A lot of things happened in the intervening days and weeks since the first post of the After death chronicles was written. And so it comes down to this.

The second ex to be notified is actually more complex and touchy. If it could have been avoided all together, I would. I left a message in his Facebook account. I left my number and asked him to call me or text me so I could call him. I did not want to just drop the bomb like that on facebook messaging. Things like these need a voice. He replied belatedly with a message confirming if it was indeed me writing him a message. I understand. He's an 'otaku' or a tech geek. He is very wary of spams and scams on line. Besides, after the devastating break up, I imposed a total block and freeze over. No contacts. No news. No whatsoever. I refrained from making online trails that he may be able to follow for at least 18 months to get off his radar. No nothing. Only a few months ago was I surprised to find a friend request on facebook from him.

See, JM was his 'kuma-chan,' remember? Yes, he was THAT ex. Well, then we exchanged a few SMS' and I kept it within JM's parameters. No 'how are you's,' no how's life treating you's, just JM this and that. En route JM's burial he called me. He said he just got off the office and was asking where I was. I told him I was with the funeral caravan. He was asking directions and wanted to go but it was too far for him. See, I never asked him to meet up or whatever. I said what I had to say. That JM was gone, where he lies in state, when the funeral would be, and it would be up to him if he wants to make time and pay his final respects. I have done my job. Whatever he does next is none of my concerns and needs not my involvement in any way.

I was surprised to receive a call from him two days after JM's funeral. What now? He said he wanted to see me. He said it was his last work day for the week. He wanted to have coffee. I hesitated. This has nothing to do with JM. Then again, if it's true that I am over him really, then why fear a meet up. Fine!

And so, Starbuck's 6750 it was. I came before him because, though he works in Makati, he does not know his way around. I am now more geographically and navigationally adept than him in the metro. He said he was coming with a workmate friend. Tsch! Buffer! What a scaredy cat! Afraid to face the batchoy all by himself. Well...

I saw him and friend approach from the other side of the road. He looked a bit unkempt than he used too. Heavier, gruffier, and well... pardon me... dirtier. Tsk! The lover, if he has any, has poor 'hubby keeping skills.'

He approached my table. I stood up. Saw him open his arms wide and I just let myself be swept into his embrace. The world did not really stop like a sappy romantic flick. It was warm, it was nice and tight, and his hands and arms still knew the nooks and crannies of my body for maximum contact. No. No death defying nuclear meltdown. Not until he casually leaned his head sideways and comfortably found the perfect spot on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck with his stubble, just like he used to. Then boom!

Fuck it!

And so, we talked. Why this was so, why such was such. He vehemently denied that the reason for the break up was a third party. They never became them. He said the real reason was that because he chickened out. He got so overwhelmed by our plans. We were literally on the edge and he got afraid to take the plunge. The leap of faith! He chickened out on us.

He went on to tell me how he felt that his life after me was one big melodramatic karma. Misfortunes, one after the other. The only thing that softened the blows was that he felt he deserved everything, for breaking my heart into fragments and smithereens. I felt my cheeks dampen. Too bad, but...

SO I agreed to come home with him. He is living in their family's ancestral house now, good stable job, nice hobbies and more or less more matured and driven life. But! The Luis Karma.
He was on the tail end of a degrading and disintegrating 3-year relationship. Dependency, bad sex and abuse of favors and kindness. The whole clan of the BF was practically living in their house. Bottomline... Bad sex.

When the doors closed we were all over each other. God! He still knows my body. Where to touch me, how to touch me, when to and when not to. Oh yes, there was sex. Mind blowing sex!
Death defying, soul severing, cosmic explosive sex! From the back of the door to the stairs, to the couch, to the showers, to the tub, to bed and beyond. All with the boyfriend and the family in the house and some visiting friends.

He said that his boyfriend's idea to save the bad sex was third wheeling. At first he liked the sexual release but later found it so dirty and started hating himself for it. I would have none of his drama. His situation, his luck, his call. I'm here to just get what I can take. After rounds of sex, while on cool down, he handed me a keychain. In his purry sex-logged voice he asked me to move my things and stay with him here for as long as I need until I get back to my trips for my Dad. How can I say no? Amazing sex? Oh and yes, the boyfriend 'pawed' me too. I consented to it so that if and when we get caught, I'd have a ready slap back. Hello, so you have now become the queen and role model of sexual purity and fidelity? And yes, we did get caught.

Days later, he finally broke up with the boyfriend. He insists that it was a long overdue thing and I had nothing to do with it. Whatever. The set up was perfect. Intimacy, warmth and a blazing Christmas, the I go back to my travels, and then some when I get back. Not until we talked...

Then I realized, I love him. Not with the remnant love or the dying embers rekindled, but with a brand new love for the him that he is right now. You know how love tends to muck up things, right? If this thing was able to survive the cold blast of silence and indifference and the soul sapping drought of no news and no nothing, then this must be something else. This hardy thing must be it!Now I don't want to take what I can get. I want all of it.

But he was not ready for me. He said it was so unfair for me to just drop in and breeze through his life the way I also did six years ago. That he had plans... that he needs time to heal... time to mourn... time to... whatever.

It was not easy. I told him that some people whine, gripe, pray and even coerce for a shot at something. We were so lucky to have been given two shots at it.

Then again... maybe this is really the message of the universe. He has to take his own flights. I have to take mine. Love just muddles it all up.

And one more thing does.

The promise we made that no matter what, he and I will always be there. No getting lost. No news block out. This. For now...

Looks like I made myself another one of those that defies labels or classifications.
Well...
We'll see...


So what are we? I asked. FuBu? Friends with benefits?
He said, "why the need to label."
I replied, "Fine, not FuBu not friends with benefits."
He asked, "what then."
Friends with Privileges.
Yes. Thats new!

He says he's Nelly Fortado's "I'm like a bird."
I said no... you're not a bird. Though you have a very nice one, hehehe. You are a butterfly.

Soar high my butterfly!

Tradition

In the tradition of Extra Super Special Batchoy With Egg, I proudly present to you a Christmas Cantata. The Batchoy Boi has selected threee Christmas songs for your listening pleasure dear Batchoyan Denizens. Here we go.

Let's start off with a classic Christmas Carol




And now we have something from our very own Islands of the Pinas!






To cap off the cantata, Here is the King himself singing what the Batchoy Boi feels like this Christmas time!






Merry Christmas Batchoyan Denizens. Consider this my humble Christmas present to all of you. May you all be blessed and truly feel the true Christmas Spirit. I love you all!


Video Credits:
youtube

Realizations and an FGD (The After Death Chronicles Part 3)

With JM's death, I realized a lot of things. Some of them that I already know and am aware of, have been strengthened and renewed. Some of them I have been considering for quite some time and now gracefully accept and adopt while some of them completely unacceptable before, I reconsider and soften up to. Maybe, when people close to us dies, we get to reassess our own lives and we renew the commitments to ourselves to live our lives more, bigger, better, wiser and bolder.In the end, it is not what we have reached but how we reached for them that people would remember most.

I consider myself as someone who hold grudges for a very long time. Forgiving is easy but forgetting is another thing. I realized that in the end, these things really don't matter. What matters is the moments of joy you shared with people.Those who genuinely felt your love and was blessed and touched by your life would remember you with how you changed their lives or made an impact on them. I still have some of my grudges, but most of them that I can not even remember, I have let go. Travel light. Less baggage less worries.

I also realized that no matter how crazy, mad, or unrequited it may seem, people remember you for the love you have shown. I realized that in the end, those who concealed, kept and became scared to show that they care are the saddest people in the world. The love and care that could have been shown will never see the light of day when we are gone. So go! Fall in love in the craziest, maddest and deepest way possible. Follow your heart. It may not always lead you to the right path or not even bring you happiness but it will always lead you back to yourself.

My belief that there is such a thing called too late has also been bolstered - the concept of too late in opposition to the concept of too fast. While we should exercise care and caution, we must not take too long. There is never a more appropriate or perfect time than today. Right here, right now! Later may be too late.

I also confirmed that 'too busy' is such a lame excuse. Too busy to say hi, too busy to call, too busy to reply, too busy to sit down and have coffee, too busy to just let the moment pass us by, too busy... Maybe next time. Such is the paradox of life. While we are too busy for other things, the more important moments just passes us by and we can never have that moment ever again because we were too busy with something else, which, in retrospect, wasn't that important after all.

The most important realization I had was the fact that the fire in me is almost dying and it was a good thing I stopped and noticed it sputter. See, I used to believe that for a shot at happiness everything is worth it. However, past hurts, pains and brushes with the madness that is life has made me more careful, more cautious, thus, making me miss out and not taking those shots. I should have taken the shot with JM. Now he's gone and I will never have that ever again. It doesn't matter that he would have died anyway. Some may argue that it saved me from ton loads of heart aches and pain. Then again, pain is a constant fact. We seem to live life with the purpose of avoiding pain. Sometimes, pain is good for us. Pain makes our poetry beautiful says my mother John Iremil. I realized that I am not what I used to be. I get scared easily. I have more walls - more shields ergo, more issues, more hung-up. There and then I decided to bring out the brave and bold me, proudly declaring that indeed, for a shot at happiness everything is worth it. If I miss, then I will console myself with the fact that at least I took the shot. It could have been 'it.'

Finally, I have renewed my commitment to do whatever it takes, because I realized that people could die lonely, and people could die alone. I don't want that. I will take my chances, and I will not be afraid. Carpe Diem... Seize the day! What's a little hurt and a little pain for that chance at forever?

Now, coincidentally, during one Friday night Bible Study and Support Group of my church MCCQC, we talked about death. The round table discussion question was :"How would you like people to remember you by best when you die." It got me thinking. Honestly, the question sounds simple ala Miss Universe but come to think of it... How indeed?

I was thinking I would like to be remembered by as a good friend, a good person, someone who made me smile/laugh/happy etc etc etc. Then again, wouldn't we all want to be that? I was thinking, I want people to remember me as someone who wrote poems, stories and blogs that made an impact on them. Too lofty perhaps? How about someone who loved with everything he had. Sounds good. Thing is, like it or not, the people who matter to us most would not remember us by the greatness we have achieved. These things are reserved for grandstanders during eulogies. What people remember us by really are those little moments etched in their hearts forever. The small things... So, I ask you batchoy denizens... How would you like to be remembered by best?

Call it vanity, call it egotism or call it a 'I don't feel so great please give me a little pat on the back or a nice warm hug to make me feel better' thing. Let me ask you. How would you best remember me by?

Talk to me!




Photo Credits:
http://www.rindewebsitedesigns.com/buchser/inmemory.html

First Gift

I am not in the country, and I may not even have a Christmas in the country where I am now.

Therefore I doubt it that I would get any Christmas presents this year. Well not until I get back to the Philippines at least.

However, I got my very first Christmas Gift. The best, perhaps, tonight.

I rode a taxi (taksi) from my hotel in Jakarta to the nearest Starbucks Branch. I brought along my dilapidated laptop.

(The letter A key is non existent, and it is battered here and there) to update my emails and everything online. I know Starbucks here offer absolutely free Wi-Fi access.

Since my laptop is battered, the battery life is less than an hour. I plugged in an outlet but to my dismay, the converter plug I brought along wouldn't fit. Those that they have here are the round plugs. I have a converter but thing is, the plugs are recessed and circular. My converter was square and would not fit into the outlet.

There were two guys beside me who were starting to fix up their stuff. Obviously, they're done with web browsing and ready to call it a day. They saw me, and one of the guys had me borrow his converter. I declined because I saw that they were leaving. I thought I'd just get into an electronics shop (wherever that is, and good luck to the shop attendant's English speaking skills!) the next day to buy me one of those. Facebook could wait.

He said it was okay and he handed me the converter.

After fifteen minutes, I promptly returned the converter. I did not want to abuse the kindness and keep them waiting. They looked tired. Well, cutely tired. Yes, batchoy denizen, the converter plug guy IS chubby!

He said it was okay. They were starting to fix up and ready to leave. I promptly unplugged my laptop charger to return the plug but he smiled at me and said: "It's okay, you can have that. Merry Christmas!"

Imagine my happiness! Not that the converter plug was pricey or anything, but I was touched by the gesture, and from a stranger in a non-Christian country at that! It warmed my heart and I thanked him profusely! I will treasure this first Christmas Gift from an Indonesian Santa Claus. It just goes to show that kindness, love and good cheer knows no religion, nationality or borders.

Terimah Kasi to you Sir. I didn't evem get your name, and Merry Christmas Indeed!

Not So Ghosts of Exes Past (The After Death Chronicles Part 2)

JM's death brought more than just one ghost to the forefront.




To say that his passing away caused some kind of avalanche in my otherwise placid and boring life is an understatement. Some ghosts of the past came to haunt me as well. With the news and its confirmation, what comes next naturally is telling people that I know of, who might also know him that he is gone so that they too may be able to pay their final respects.

At first I was hesitant. The only two other person I know of and have contacts with in a way are all... well... exes. Before even braving to break the silence, I counseled with my trusted friends if I should do it. They echoed my sentiments that it has to be done, no matter what the frictions in the past I have with the living. After all, it was the Christian thing to do. Let the dead bury the dead so to speak. So I braved the rift.

Let's start with Ex #1. Well, technically, we weren't really exes so to speak. It was, at most, a passionate affair, but see, what makes it awkward is the fact that he was THE BIG CRASH. Doc Oinkie! Remember? The Manic Monday that never came to be? Oh yes! I still have his number. I tried to call. It rang forever. He was not picking up. So I texted.

Batchoy: Hi, Doc. I didn't want to bother you. I did not want to tell you through text, but you are not picking up. I just want you to know that JM passed away. His body lies in state at such and such Memorial Chapels. You might want to pay your final respects.

In a matter of minutes, my phone rang. It was doc. I can hear his soothing voice and my heart, as usual, leaped up to my throat. He has such an effect on me that yes, I must admit, I even had a hard on. Bad Batchoy! The eventual 'interview' ensued. Are you sure, what is the cause of death blah blah blah. And then...

Doc: And how are you?
Luis: (Shit!) I'm fine. No. I'm great! ( And still not able to get past that Monday that never came, you stinkin' lyin' b@st@rd you!) Never better.
Doc: Are you going to the chapel?
Luis: Ahmm, I have been there earlier, that's why I was able to confirm.
Doc: I might go. I want to go. Maybe tonight.
Luis: Please do, Doc.
Doc: Where will you be? Will you be free tonight?
Luis: Ahmmm ( Of course, I will be free if you ask me to be! Stupid!) Let me see.
Doc: I was hoping you'd go when I do. I wanted to see you too!
Luis: (Arggghh!) Sure, let's see what we can arrange. What time will you be going.

And so... I agreed to meet up with him. In the chapels.
Message received

Doc: You know I'm attached, right?
Luis: Yes. What has that got to do with JM?
Doc: Nothing. Just saying.
Luis: Don't sweat it, doc oinkee. I'll see you there.

I made sure he got there ahead of me. I don't wanna be kept waiting. Not this time.

I entered the chapel and saw him instantly. On the front rows near the casket. He was beside an oldish guy. He was chatting with JM's mom. I eyed him cautiously. God, he still looks as good as I remember him to be. And the guy beside him? Well, vanity and pride, my dear.

No contest.

He saw me. He motioned me to come sit beside him. I did a quick feel of my pulse. Surprisingly, no palpitations there. So I sat. Not much of catching up it was. He was very cautious around the boyfriend. Well, what did I expect? The exchange was clipped and careful. He asked me what my liaisons with JM was. If we dated, slept together, and all that jazz. I said yes. He sighed and I caught him whisper. 'Lucky guy!' I countered. 'Dead guy now!' He smiled. 'Still sharp and funny.' I did not want to look into his eyes. I did not want to interpret what I saw as a longing.

I kept checking my pulse. What is wrong with me? I can't seem to feel anything. What? No skip? No jitter? No big brass band? Well....

I left the room to have a ciggie. He followed suit. The boyfriend followed suit. Discomfort followed suit.

The night had to end. They had to get home because they have jobs the next day. I had to get home too. I walked him to the parking lot. Final goodbyes have to be said. I started extending my hand to shake his hands. He took my hand and pulled me to a tight hug. I heard him whisper. I missed you. Take care of yourself.

I thought, yeah, I have to take care of myself. No one does it for me.

I saw them get in to the car and drive away. I replayed the hug. Rechecked my pulse.

No response. NR.

Just like the result of the Elisa Test they did on JM, given his sexual preference and activities, they had to admit and be honest with their selves that such a possibility exists.

NR.

No reaction. Negative.

The way I tested these last few times. I do my Elisa's at least twice a year.

I slowly walked out of the funeral home.

NR

Another ghost exorcised. Another loss. Another grief.

The big crash crashed down!
No more kahuna.
The wave broke and the shore placid in the moonlight.

NR

Goodbye Doc Oinkie.

Photo Credits: http://boingboing.net/2009/10/06/exorcisms-vs-schizop.html

Happy Poet

Break muna sa nakaka depress na Death Chronicles.

Masaya ang batchoy boi at magandang balita ang natanggap.

One of his poems got featured in a respected literary site and he is just bubbling over with pride and joy.

Thank you so much Asia Writes for the honor. I am humbled guys.

Here is the link to the website.


Kung tamad ka ma click, here's the poem.

Divination

By Luis Batchoy

"The key to unlocking this puzzle

is within you"

- Doriel, mentor of Mistral Isle

Magic the Gathering card 'Divination' flavor text

You told me that the runes were vague

And even the lines in the palm of my hands

Were not enough to ascertain

My destiny, so we moved on

To more arcane tools and methods.

You chuckled when I asked

About crystal balls and visceral castings.

While you lighted your sacred

Candles,

The Feng Shui of your room

Demands we heed the flow of Chi

On your inviting bed.

You must slowly map the moles

In my body with a far more

Efficient hands, than eyes

That won't do well in darkness.

It was not kissing.

It was labiomancy.

As the heat surges

It was obvious we

needed to go Kirilian.

Now we alternate to Reiki

With your gifted palms.

Clamancy in our choral moans and groans

Or were we speaking in tongues?

Tongues, yes, of course

Tongues and dowsing rods.

Bumpology for the bumps on my bodies

Or plainly bumping, humping pumping?

At this point I forget whether we're moving into

Kabbalah, or are we approximating the Kama Sutra?

It doesn't matter as long as

I'm moving into you.

Thus we invented

Sodomancy.

Now we debate if I explode within you

Or if we need the fluids for drimimancy.

Later as we sip coffee and smoke.

We realized that we could have had

Tea instead, for teacup scrying.

Then again, we can always

Go back to your room

And survey the sheets.

There must be omens there.

Or if we feel Karmically bound

To repeat history

Again and again.

We both took out

Our Tarot

Decks.

Photo Credits:

http://gatherer.wizards.com/

Replacement (The After Death Chronicles Part1)

So he's dead. But it looks like his death caused an avalanche of events and chain reactions so to speak. I'm grappling with them and dealing with them the best I know how. This is the first among some of what happened as a result of his death.


I visited the wake three days in a row. I met the family. The family met me. They were warm, nice and very accommodating. We talked. About him, about me, about him and me. He lead a secret life away from home. He never brought anyone over to the house. Not even workmates, or friends. They know his sexual preference but no more than that. They wished someone would come out and introduce himself to them. I was the only one. The mom was especially warm, more so when she discovered that I was Ilonggo too. He never mentioned that to me. Now I know why he kept on making lambing for me to speak Hiligaynon. I don't know why he never told me his family were Ilonggo's. Both his mom and dad. One was from Bacolod one was from Iloilo.

The last night of the wake, I met a very outspoken and very beautiful aunt of his.

Aunt: Hi, so you are Luis?
Me: Yes, tita.
Aunt: I have heard so much about you. Thanks for coming hijo.
Me: You are welcome tita.
Aunt: Too bad, we met just now and under such sad circumstances. Well at least, now we're acquainted.
Me: Thank you tita and condolence po.
Aunt: Condolence too hijo. You have lost someone too. Welcome to the family. Don't worry. You do not need to be ashamed. We love those whom our nephew loved. We don't care which gender he chose to love. It doesn't matter. As long as he loved.
Me: Thank you tita.
Aunt: We hope to see more of you ok?
Me: Yes po, tita.
Aunt: Tomorrow at the funeral, of course?
Me: Yes tita.

At the funeral, I came a bit early. Two of the closest cousins were there and they were very warm. The black mourning pins came. It was distributed among the family members. I was surprised when his mom called me and gave me a pin. I didn't want to be presumptuous so I kept it in my pockets.

The tita saw me. She asked me to help her pin hers on her dress. Then she noticed I was not wearing one. She asked why I wasn't given one yet. The mom came over and asked where was the pin she gave me. I took it out of my pocket and she got it from me and pinned it on the left side of my shirt.

Everyone was kind to me. They kept patting me, asking if I was okay. I waited until the chapel staff brought out the casket. Everyone started getting into cars and transportation. I went with a sister and his closest cousin. At the funeral, I tried my best not to cry. I did not want to make a scene or draw attention to myself. I wasn't able to help it. I hope I did not bawl out too loudly. Then came the final viewing. The family went first. I did not want to view him one last time. I want to remember him the way I do. He looks so emaciated in his casket I did not want that to be my last image of him. Somebody took my hand and led me to the casket. It was another sister. Then white roses were handed out. I was given one. We were supposed to throw it down the hole when the casket has been lowered. I felt my heart break. I didn't know that it would feel this sad and this heavy.

Then I was handed white balloons. They told me I should have the honor and privilege of letting them go to drift in the afternoon skies. Symbolic of us letting him go and committing him to the heavens up above. I quickly wiped the tears that were trickling down my face. I never dared to take off the dark glasses hiding my eyes. Good bye kumag chan! The family insisted that I ride back to their house with them. I told them before that this was one of the things we fought about. He was adamant in not bringing me home or introducing me to any one of them. I was not able to find a way to decline. When I was at their house, I realized I miss him all the more now that I have seen where he lived. His mom made me promise to keep in touch and visit anytime I wanted. I promised.

Nine days later, I got a text from his mom. She was inviting me for dinner with the family to commemorate the 9th day of this death, and for a despedida party for the sister who was going back to the states. I tried to decline saying I lived a bit far from where the dinner was to be held but she countered by saying they're picking me up. So I went. My heart melted when I arrived and kissed his dad. He had the sweetest smile for me. In his limited range of motion, he tried patting my back. He is a stroke survivor.

Dinner was good. It was nice to see everyone recovering nicely and it was good to see them meet again under lighter circumstances. I smile deep inside when I realized that I'm the odd one out. I know that remembrances are important, but sighed too because I know I'm living on a borrowed time. Sooner or later, we would have to part ways and move on with our own lives. We will run out of remembrances and reasons to meet and get together in memory of him. I was wrong, or so it seems.

After dinner, the younger guys wanted to go videoke. Naturally, I got grabbed along. He was musically gifted and it was inevitable for them to comment that although they never saw us together, we must have made a good pair. We both sing well. I tried brushing it off. Just remembrances. When the gang was slightly liquored up, the close cousin asked me if I knew how to play the piano. I said I do not know how to play any musical instrument. She laughed and said she'd enroll me for lessons. To complete everything. I laughed it off. Not until someone interjected and said, "Oo nga kuya, para kumpleto." Then the cousin said. "It's like this. We lost him, but we gained you. You actually look a bit like him, especially when you laugh and your eyes disappear. Same body type, same sexual preference, same gait, same body structure, same musical gifts, same poetic gifts, same sweetness, same manner of speaking, same manner of dressing, same movements, only more masculine, same wit, same humor. Almost a lot like him." I smiled. Of course, they got my number, my facebook account. I shivered. "Yeah, so much alike. Feels like kuya arranged a replacement for us when he is gone. Basta, from now on, kuya ka na rin namin. Replacement ka na."