Grand Reopening

So okay...

My last post was... gasp... two years ago.

I was just randomly searching for whatever I can read to combat depression and catatonia, and I came across a personal blog. Well, the way blogs were supposed to be. Personal. A chronicle of sort of one's life, written in gripping prose.

Not how blogs are seen these days, as either a political piece, a short-cut to fame and, well, infamy for some, or a source of income. No. Not those at all... A personal blog. And it got me thinking about visiting this Batchoyan, that, though not serving anymore as often as it used to, remains open and takes up blogspace. And so, I turn to what have always been a panacea for me. Writing.

So yes, you can say, some darkness creates light elsewhere, and that's what you owe this new blog post to.

There I was in my somber gloomy mood, licking my wounds, staving off full on rock bottom clinical depression, just wasting my time, unemployed and alone in Manila, stretching what little money I have saved, and getting by with raket jobs that comes every now and then... It has been two years too, that I have been preparing and suffering and having my life on hold and in suspended animation... and again, I taste the full sting of defeat. I was thinking, I have been here before, I could handle it better, but not.

You know what they say about pain.

How it fucking demands to be felt.

Oh but yeah, as all returns demand, I owe you an 'ang nakaraan' explanation to how I got here at this point of my dreary sordid life.

So okay. back story to keep us up to date.

In March 2014, I have checked and rechecked my old tattered prospectus. I have penciled in all grades from all subjects and I was delighted to know that after X number of years, I was finally about to be done with law school! All marked and completed! I applied for graduation. I was already dreaming of the day wearing my garb and starting the next journey. But no. One subject held me back and gave me a failing grade. After much talking and gnashing and anguish, the 5.0 was retracted and I was given an INC. Long story short, it took me another year to finish and get a sudden death completion exams to get that over and done with.

I passed.

In April of 2015, I finally donned my Law School Sablay, and graduated. Of course. The next thing to think of was the Bar Exams. I psyched myself up. I made major decisions. I gathered all my strengths and my resolves. I moved to Manila. Again. This time, the plan was to stay for good. Well, for best, if you may.



I just figured that to be able to concentrate and focus on the review, I would have to spend at least 6 grueling months. Creature of comfort that I am, I needed my command center. The thought of having to go through the process of uprooting and settling in Manila, and then doing it all over again to come back to Iloilo was daunting. My plan was to stay. Find my command center, make a home, and be based in Manila for good. I would review for 6 months, take the Bar which lasts for a month, take a few months break, find a job maybe, and wait for the results. After which, recoup, consider my options, and stay in the Metro. It sounded like a good plan.

Of course, my mother, being the mother, like all mothers are, and my father, being unlike any father that all fathers are, did try every so often to get me to go back to Iloilo.

I was stubborn. I did not want to budge. As a result, I suffered bouts of homesickness, missing my friends, missing my community, watching the scenes I have established in Iloilo flourish without me, and the occasional push and pulls every time I come home for a break. It isn't easy. Well nothing is.

As it is, and as all best laid plans go, they do not go as best as we want them to. Fast forward... two review seasons, two years, two attempts. No such luck.

So here I am, alone in the Metro, no family, my friends busy with their own lives. Unemployed, borderline depressed, funds running out quick, waiting for the next chapter to unfold, with nothing to show for but this stubborn hope, and my dreams that are bigger than me. Ah but the stories!

Oh yes, the stories! Rich, colorful stories yes. I do have a lot. And yes I have come home to the Batchoyan to tell them all. As I have always done so...

I know I have promised to keep writing and reviving this blog, time and again. But now, the promise shall be even stronger.

I cannot wait to tell the stories.

The Batchoyan needs dusting here and there, fixing this and that, but yes, it opens one more time.

It's technically not a reopening because it never really closed but what the hell! Besides, after these days of gloom and doom, I need an excuse to celebrate, so yeah!

Welcome me back.

Friendship Bond

Last night was a happy night of celebrating friendships.

I came home happy and in good cheer from the birthday dinner of my very good friend and personal style maven Jor-El Espina. While waiting for my meds to kick-in, another new friend, Topher was chatting with me online. I am scheduled to fly to Manila next week to be with him and spend some time bonding.

It got me into a pensive and reflective mood. This friendship thing is really amazing! Jor-El and Topher are contrasts, if length of time is to be the basis.

Jor-El and I have been friends, way back when he was still in College. I may not exactly remember how we became friends, but we have always been friends and I can barely recall us ever even getting into a fight or misunderstanding. It just worked. It has also endured absence and distance. I have always been very very proud of him. He was just a struggling young conceptual jewelry maker, stringing together beads and jeweler wire. When he joined the Robinson's Iloilo Design Lab Competition, he was adjudged 1st Runner Up because his designs were too conceptual and way out there, which is what I loved about him. He has brilliant, brave, bold ideas, and he is very passionate about what he does. The reward for his hard work and dedication is his growing atelier with numerous clients, and his being recognized by the fashion industry, being featured in glossy magazines and being named as one of the top young designers of the country. I have watched him rise to where he is right now and I have always been proud and will always believe in him. Our friendship has this quaint quality. We do have a lot of common friends within our circles, but we have always yearned for 'our' time. I would visit his shop, we would grab coffee or Batchoy or Halohalo at the nearby wet market. No matter how many of our circles meld, we always make it a point to be with just him and me.

On the other hand, Topher is a relatively new friend. We are members of this online group and I first noticed him when he lauded a comment I gave on a certain thread in that group. He then added me on Facebook but never really picked up and connected from there, not until I discovered that he sings and sings well, so I requested him to sing a favorite song, which he obliged. We then agreed to meet one time I went to Manila, and from there, formed this amazing bond that I do not understand. It's just so light and so right! Very natural and fuss free! We just clicked! Just like that, and now he calls me his BFF, much to the jealousy of some of his long time friends, and mine too. I cannot really explain how it happened. It just did!


COMMONS

Jor-El and I has this recurring conversation about the quest for artistic integrity and how to harmonize it with the demands of the industry. We are both fans of each other's works - his designs and my writing. Of course we do talk about the little things - such as the detractors and the scums of this planet. And it is so much fun!We inspire each other and drive each other towards artistic excellence and achievements. We celebrate each other's successes. There is nothing sweeter for me than seeing a friend succeed and reach for his dreams, and see him do it!

Topher and I share talks about his passion for singing. I cheer him on as he has decided to embark on the very difficult decision of giving up his stable corporate job to follow his dreams of being a singer and performer. We are both fans of each other's craft - his singing, my poetry and acting. Of course we also gossip about, well, personalities we both know in the community and of course, flings, flames, and exes, and yes it is so much fun! He adores my humor and wit. I adore his bumbling openness. It is very refreshing.

THE COMMODIFICATION OF FRIENDSHIP

During dinner, Jor-El's effervescent Mom was talking to me. I adore her! When I came in, she wanted me to be seated beside her (which by the way killed off a potential flirtation with one hot guest who kept checking me out, but what the heck) and she engaged me in talks. She talked about Jor-El and the friends who came, some she did not know, some she knew for a long time and how she said I shouldn't call her Tita, but that I should call her 'Mama'! It warmed my heart and I genuinely adored her! She said that she felt my friendship with Jor-El, as she thinks it is genuine. It made me proud. She remarked that some friends come only when you are already successful, and on top. And the more success you gain, the more 'friends' you attract.

It lead me to ask myself how these friendships work. Of course I have had other friendships worth years that did not withstand the tests of adversities, some, intense as they were, but forgotten, set-aside, non-active and even ended. I had my share of cutting loose some long standing friendships that were no longer working and are more of a liability than an asset. It got me thinking how these friendships I still keep could work, with not much presence and not much effort on both our sides. I have a very busy life and I keep many circles. Sometimes I am amazed and jealous of those 'groupies' who are forever within each other's reach. I do not have that. I have circles yes, but I do not have a permanent fixed group so to speak so I wonder how the many friendships I have could work and exist, and how some could just wither and die off.

Whether we admit it or not, somehow, there is this 'commodification' of friendships nowadays. How we keep friends for the benefits they have in our lives and what is in it for us. Jor-El has made me a number of outfits, and yes, will make more for me. He has never asked me to pay for any one of them! NOT ONE! And if I would insist to pay, he would be hurt and insulted, I know that! I understand how the atelier is a business, and that he has bills to pay, materials to buy, workers to give wages to and all that, but he just refuses for me to pay him! He just tells me to treat him for lunch - or dinner- or coffee. I do not know. He is just like that with me! It has never been a question and money has never figured in our friendship.

Topher on the other hand is hosting me in Manila next week. He wants me to stay at their house and his Mom is thrilled to be meeting me, making him clean his room and making sure I have beddings and comfort and all that jazz. They are not exactly well to do but the hospitality is just overwhelming, and he is even picking me up from the airport! He is also looking forward to my staying with him when I relocate soon.

It got me thinking - do we keep our friendships based on the 'utilitarian' purposes of such? Even if we do not admit it to ourselves, do we value friendships because of the 'junkets' that they could provide for us? Have we commodified friendships, and those that pleases us are those that can 'do something' for us. It certainly feels good if a friendship benefits us not just in psychological presence and support, but also the 'worldly material' support and favors we get from them. Admit it or not, a free meal is a free meal. A free outfit is a free outfit and free board and lodging is free board and lodging. When we make friends, will the value of the friendship be a consideration? Do we value those friends who can 'do more' for us than those that would 'require more' from us? Scary questions, but valid ones, I should say. And this is what I asked myself tonight.

VALUE BEYOND VALUE

I am just proud that my answers, after careful thought, honest soul searching and reflection is in the negative. While it is true that a junket is a junket and it does make us feel good and add value to us in convenience, I could safely say that it is not me to be that.

Jor-El has been a friend even before he could be 'valuable'. The outfits he makes for me are made with my tastes and personality in mind. I could buy myself a good outfit for special occasions that call for it, and yes I do have an existing wardrobe. He just wants to do it because he wants to, and validate our friendship. He has been a friend even before he could do anything for me.

Topher has been a friend even before he offered his house for me to stay at in Manila. I could afford to pay for a budget hotel, and yes I have done that. In fact, I would be sacrificing my own 'comfort zones' by staying with him. He just wanted to spend more time with me on this trip, because we would only see each other for a number of hours for coffee if I stay in a hotel, He wants more time with me and having a spare room just happens to be a convenience.

So's with my other friends! They just happen to be doing something that I happen to be in need of at one time or the other - it just happens that they draw, and I am looking for sketches for my book; they just happen to be photoartists and I am a vainglorious GGSS feeling model; they just happen to be working somewhere with a gallery when I wanted to mount an ambitious poetry exhibit; they just happen to own a restaurant when I want to celebrate a birthday or a whimsical poetry reading event; they just happen to be driving a car when I needed a lift or to transport certain things; they just happen to work in Boracay and I need a break and I love the beach; they just happen to be in Davao and I want to go to Samal Island; they just happen to love coffee as much as I do; they just happen to harp on the same things that I do; they just happen to - all incidentals, but not the point of the friendship at all!

It's just that I am a writer when they happen to need a story line concept for their collection; I just happen to write and train for speeches when their siblings need it in school; I just happen to be giving poetry workshops when they need an activity for children in school; I just happen to be good in grammar when they need their theses to be proofread; I just happen to know some people they need for this and that - INCIDENTAL!

This friendship thing - it's amazing! It's a lot like falling in love, but even better. It's like family, but not by accident or pre-ordination but by choice. Explain as I may, I would never be able to fully understand how this one works and that one does not. It's a lot like magic.

I am just happy that I have been blessed by real people and real friendships - because really, you just cannot tell! There is no way of knowing when a friendship happens to be a masked deceitful thing that only seeks to glorify one party and use you in more ways than one. There is no protecting yourself as there is no hard-fast rule written to base and judge a friendship by. You just have to wing it! I am lucky to have friends whom I can count on through thick and thin, and well - thickest and thinnest! And yes I am very lucky to still attract more friendships that will be true to me, time notwithstanding.

I am lucky and blessed to have Jor-El and Topher - and many other wonderful, beautiful friends!

I am lucky and blessed with my friends - and doubly lucky and blessed knowing that they too, feel the same way about me!

Out

I remember a very good friend who no longer is. To make the long story short, the issue as it stands, is that I allegedly, unwittingly and maybe inadvertently outed her to a cousin of hers. I would like to maintain that I did no wrong though, because the said cousin was in fact 'in the know,' as to her sexual orientation and gender identity - or more so, her sexual preference. The last time I was in Manila, I had a talk with a Master Novelist. I was happy that this senior writer is open-minded. Funny and fun how we got to talk about LGBT issues and even Lady Gaga and the anti-Gaga's. He said that there will always be 'demons.' Year after year after year, Religious institutions have demonized an artist or two. There will always be an 'anti-Christ' and a Devil incarnate to their minds. He also thinks that given time, the issues we have will no longer be an issue. Sexuality and SOGI (Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity) included. I really admire him and I, more than ever, look up to him. It came to the inevitable question then - was he gay?

Not that it matters, but for the record, the question begged to be asked. As a rule, I really do not care whether someone is gay or not. I only care to know 'officially' if such a person is my type - meaning, I am entertaining thoughts of getting it on with him. This makes for the viability of whether or not I take my chances. Otherwise, it's a non-issue. While it would be great to count among the growing number of us in the LGBT Community a person of high intelligence, great literary achievement and brilliance, it really did not matter. Though there was an openness to our conversation, it stopped me dead in my tracks. Then it hit me. Why is asking someone's sexual preference an almost taboo thing? Why can't we just ask for the sake of asking and not be afraid that we might be unnecessarily putting the person on the spot, or that it would be too personal or unprofessional?  I braved up and asked him anyway, and he said no, he was not gay, no he doesn't mind my asking, it was all in context, and no he was not offended. I believe no one should take offense. A question is a question is a question.

Although I respect the decision of persons whether they chose to be out or still in the closet, what begs to be taken a look into is the reason why this is so? Who would want to consciously suffer and suffocate inside a deep, dark and dank closet of secrets? I believe this is because of the prevailing attitude of people towards the LGBT Community. It could spell trouble for some with their work, their religion, their career, their families and for some, it could even draw the line between life and death. Such is a serious matter. Some people refuse to come out because there is a hostile world out there, beyond their closets, and that is why, some people would chose to suffer in silence. I still believe that coming out is a personal choice. No one knows better when to do so, and no one can make the decision to do so except the person himself. He knows best his circumstance. On the other hand, I believe that most, if not all of these fears are basically imagined and magnified. With the proper positioning and the right support group, it can be done. The odds may be insurmountable and the stakes may be high, but it CAN be done! Nothing beats the feeling of being free to be the person that you are.



I wish it is as my novelist friend say it is - that given time, the issues we have will no longer be an issue.  I dream of a world where sexuality, sexual orientation and gender identity is not an issue. Where the simple thought of asking someone his or her gender preference is not a matter of propriety but a matter of fact, and no one thinks about 'outing' someone as a bad thing to do because it really wouldn't matter anymore. I dream of a world that would rejoice in someone finding love without qualifications as to sexuality or gender. I dream of a world that would nurture such loving relationships and would encourage people to embrace the light and not push them to the deep, dark, and dank corners in the name of anonymity and fear. I dream that no one be demonized because of his or her sexuality. I dream of a closet free world where everyone relishes the light and is free to be whatever he chooses to be, and to be able to make intelligent determinations for one's self. I dream of a world where sexuality is a non-issue. I will try my very best to give everything I have and everything I can to make such a dream a reality. I am OUT, I live, I love, proud and free. I am Bisexual!

Dalawang Tula Para sa Mga Pawisang Mudrakels

Dahil araw ng mga mudrakels ngayon, May I share ako ng dalawang tula para sa mga nanay. Bahagi ito ng koleksyon ko ng sampung mga tulang pambata na may pamagat na "Nanay ko si Era, Tatay ko si Er at iba pang mga tulang pawisan". Alay ko ito sa mga magulang na blue-collar workers. Hapu Mudrakelles day sa inyong mga madiraka at sa iyo na rin kung madiraka ka or feeling mo madirakabelles ka!

Ang Giyerera
Ni Luis Batchoy

Hindi sundalo ang aking nanay,
Pero sumasabak sya sa matinding away.
Dala’y palu-palo, sabon at palanggana,
Sambundok na labada ang kalaban sa giyera.

Puti at de-kolor, una’y paghihiwalayin
Upang dugo ng kalaban, di magsalin-salin.
Lulunurin nya sa tubig ang kaaway
Magdamag na ibababad ang mga pasaway.

Pagkatapos isa-isa nyang sasabunin
Mahihigpit na kalaban kanyang kukuskusin.
Ubos lakas na pipigain at pipilipitin
Ang pagkapanalo, kanyang sisiguraduhin.

Matapos ito, kanya nang babanlawan,
Upang makita, tagumpay ng kalinisan.
Isa-isa na nyang isasampay,
Talunang mga kalabang lupaypay.

Meron daw syang sikreto
Sa kanyang laging pagkakapanalo.
Lalabanan daw nya, labada man ng buong mundo
Maitaguyod lamang kami ng mga kapatid ko.

 

Sinabawang Isda

Ni Luis Batchoy

Sinabawang isda na naman ang ulam,

Ako ay talagang takam na takam

Nanay ko lang naman kasi ang nagluto

Pinakasikat na kusinera sa buong mundo.

Maingat na kinaliskisan ang isda

Sing ingat ng kanyang pagaalaga.

Sing-asim ng tumulo nyang pawis

Sa trabahong bumubuhay sa amin.

Pinakuluan sa isang kaserolang tubig

Sing init ng pagmamahal nya sa amin.

Sinahugan ng konting sibuyas

Tulad ng manamis-namis nyang mga ngiti.

Konting hinog na kamatis,

Tulad ng pagpaphinog sa mga pangarap namin.

Luyang binungkal mula sa lupa,

Gaya ng pagsiskap nya para sa amin.

Pag naluto sabay kaming kakain

Salu-salo sa iisang mesa

Payak man ang pagsasaluhan

Puno naman ng pagmamahalan.

Handa na ang sinabawang isda

Bubusugin pati puso at kaluluwa

Ang nanay kong kusinera

Kayang kayang lutuan ang sanlibutan.

 HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY BATCHOY DENIZENS!

This Selective Amnesia Thing

I know, I know, I know! I forgot again, and I have no excuses! Maybe I just got lost in the thick of it all, or maybe I haven't been thinking of it as much as I used to. Nevertheless, a milestone is a milestone, so, late as it may seem, let me greet us!





HAPPY 3RD Year Anniversary to us Batchoy Denizens!

The Batchoyan turns three!!!

Three friggin' years! So much has happened! So many things have changed and yet, so many things remain the same. Some people have come and gone and we have taken all the good with the bad. When I back read sometimes, I sigh. How much of me have I revealed to you? Too much, and yet, it feels like none at all. Some entries make me smile as they used to, and some could even make me smile wider than it used to. It has been a wonderful journey so far and I thank all of you for journeying with me - ups, downs, sides and every which way.



I admit it gets harder and harder to churn out entries lately. Maybe it's going back to law school. Maybe it's the other things that occupy my mind. Or maybe, just maybe, its because it feels like there's no one there anymore. The batchoy turns cold without a word from you guys. Show me some lovin and hit that comment button. I know you are still out there because Feedjit says so, but you know, it gives me more reasons to fight the 'tamad' modes!



So now, since its our third year, instead of you giving me a gift, let me give you a gift. It comes in threes, so I need you to click on that comment button and tell me three things you'd like me to write about. I will choose three commentors and will write all three things you ask of me. You know what it's like. 3 wishes. Genie thinggie! Sounds like fun right? SO go! Make the Batchoy Boi happy! Fire away with the comments!

Happy Third everyone! You know what they say. Third time's the Charm!

By popular demand

The batchoy boi is ecstatic! Once again, a parcel came in August!

Oh yes, indeed! I will be at the Rigodon Ballroom of the Peninsula Hotel, Manila on September 1, 2011!

Yes, dear denizens. The Board of Judges for this year's Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards have found my entry meritorious enough to win the First Prize in the Filipino Poetry for Children category!

Oh yes, and I will be getting one of those ginormous 'plate-like' medals too! It's kinda ironic how, months before, even years before this happy day, I have always dreamed and fantasized of how it would feel to receive that Palanca 'pinggan' but when the letter finally came and I now actually stand to get one for myself, I seem to not believe I actually won one! I would jokingly tell my friends that my lone certificate from the Palanca Awards 2008 for my 3rd Prize win in the Hiligaynon Short Story category is already lonely on my wall and could use some company. Now, here it is - with a pinggan at that!



Much as I could not describe the incredible feeling the first time I won the Palanca, same goes with this one. It's true what they say that each award brings a thrill of its own. Perhaps I will never ever get used to this feeling - this exhilaration! Now before I get away with myself, let me get to the point of this blogpost. When I shared the news on my Facebook account, my ever supportive friends flooded me with congratulations and well wishes. This added to the sweetness of the triumph, even more than the award itself. One recurring request is for a copy of the winning piece. The entry is a collection of 10 poems for children. I am sure that it will appear on the Palanca website shortly, and since they have publishing consent, I'm afraid there will be 'technicalities' if I jump the gun and publish them online. So, to satisfy my loyal reading public and hordes of fans (Chos lang!) I'd like to give you the title poem of the collection. I believe it has already appeared in its unedited form somewhere in this blog, so let me repost it. Here goes:

AKO ANG BIDA

Ako ang bida.

Ako ang pinakamaganda.

Bago lagi ang damit ko at sapatos.

Sa akin ay wala nang nakakaungos.

Ako ang bida.

Ako ang laging nangunguna.

Mga gamit ko ay mamahalin.

Wala nang tatalo sa akin.

Ako ang bida.

Kinaiinggitan ng iba,

Sikat at pinaguusapan,

Sa buong paaralan.

Liban na lang pag may miting ang PTA

O di kaya ay tuwing Family Day.

Dahil si Nanay, sa ibang bansa nagtatrabaho

Hayun, si Yaya, sinasapawan ang byuti ko.

Thank you so much to all my friends, family and supporters who believed, prayed, wished and hoped with me. This victory is as much yours as it is mine! I love you guys! Oh, and yes, see you in Manila and let he coffee flow! The Batchoy boils over!

Happy Birthday to me

The Batchoy Boi turns a year older! Happy Birthday to me!




The party’s over. I had it days before my actual birthday. The few remaining celebration for the day were also over and done with – coffee, dinner and then some. The deluge of text messages trickled about three hours before and those posted on my facebook wall have all been replied to. So I am left to myself. I wanted it this way – for me to be with myself for the remaining hours of my birthday. I wanted to celebrate the last trickles with the most important person in my life – my own self. So there I was at a bar. The band was still playing. I bought a bottle of shandy. I don’t drink really, and I just wanted to take it slow and easy and just be with myself. I stood by the counters sipping my drink. I saw you look at me. You were with your friends. There were six of you. Let’s just say, you were my type; Chubby flubby, fair, chinkiy eyes, cute lips and ahmmm… dimpled cheeks. Just perfect. Except for one thing – your girl's arms were wrapped all over your arms. Oh well. continue listening to the band. You continue staring. I tried catching your stares but you would casually look away when I try to. Your girl clings obliviously.


Inevitably, the band called out my name. They greeted me. How could they not. I’m a band boy. They called me over to jam a song or two. I feel you look at me as I approach the stage. I sang a couple of songs. I’m used to this. As I said, I’m a band boy. I know you were staring at me while I was performing. I could tell. I was looking your way. After my songs, I got back to my spot. You were scribbling something. Then, you handed it to the waiter. Two songs later, I was called back by my band friends. Somebody requested a song, and I was requested to sing it. I was in good moods, so I gladly obliged my friends. I am so sure it was from you. I saw you smiling as I was singing the two songs you requested. Luckily, I knew the songs. When I finished, I was surprised to see a fresh bottle of shandy and a plate of food on the counter. There was also a slice of cake. The waiter informed me it was for me. I said I didn’t order these. He said it’s on the house. I doubt it. This must have come from you. I saw you smile. Your girl still held your hand. I smiled deep inside. Well…Happy Birthday to me.

A few minutes later, your group left. Oh well… about half an hour later, I went to the comfort room. I went inside one of the cubicles. When I finished peeing, you were there inside the room too. No one else was inside. I smiled at you. You smiled back and said ‘Happy Birthday singer boy. Great performance.’ I said ‘thank you, did the food and drink and cake come from you?’ You just smiled. ‘Why are you alone on your birthday?’ you asked. I said I just want to be and asked ‘where’s your friends, I thought you left earlier?’ You looked into my eyes and gave me a warm smile and said ‘Isn’t it obvious why I came back? You looked lonely. No one should be lonely on his birthday night.’ I thought, goodness, I feel thrilled and this is a badly written screenplay of some cheap Pinoy romantic flick. Where the hell were the people who were supposed to come in and use the toilets? This is so contrived! But your chinito eyes, they stir a longing in me. I responded, ‘but your girlfriend…’ I wasn’t able to finish my question because somebody came in. We tried to act casually.

The guy went straight to one cubicle and as soon as the door latched, you grabbed me, hugged me tight and pushed me back into the nearest cubicle. Your eyes danced with mischief as your tongue probed mine. I got instantly stiff. We kissed and kissed and kissed and we heard the door to the cubicle unlock and the main door open and latch close. You grabbed me. We exited the comfort room. I was blinded by the rush and you led me to your parked car. I knew it was crazy but your hands alternated between the shift stick and my crotch. We ended up in a motel and when finally you were about to suck my stiff member, you paused, looked at me with a silly grin and said, ‘happy birthday band boy,’ and you took it all in.

It was wild, it was passionate and you sapped me dry. We did it all over the room - on the bed, in the toilet, in the showers, by the table, and I came all over too - in your mouth, in your palms, on your chest, inside you. Exhaustion got the better of us and we fell asleep. I could remember hearing the telephone ring. It must be the front desk informing us that our time is over. You picked it up. I was waiting for a nudge from you to get up and get dressed but when you put the phone down it was your warm hug enveloping me that I felt. I slipped into blessed exhausted sleep.


I woke up to the warmth in my crotch, and I saw you already mounted and impaled, pumping up and down. Time didn’t matter. There is the urgency of this lust, perhaps the last one, before we finally get dressed and go. When we came, I asked you what time it was. You said it doesn’t matter. You had us booked for the rest of the day. You smiled as you lay down beside me. I grabbed a smoke. Then you nibbled my ears and whispered ‘happy birthday’ I smiled and said, ‘not anymore. My birthday expired last night.’ You smiled and kissed me saying, ‘no, not you. Me. Happy Birthday to me. Today is my birthday.’ I smiled and allowed you to hug me. In a few minutes you fell asleep on my chest. I watched your cute face deep in slumber and I thought to myself. Darn, what’s your name again? I don’t think we ever asked each other that. Oh well, happy birthday. In an hour, I will wake you up by pumping into you! One good turn deserves another.

This is it!

This is it!

I have always been afraid to publish. Mostly because I have been afraid of the discriminating critics. There are times when I even stop myself from submitting to Folios and Anthologies. I don't know, maybe this is the writers version of stage-fright. And then, this year came.

I do not remember anymore how it started. I posted poems on my facebook notes and most of them took on the same vein. Erotica. I am originally a writer in Hiligaynon, and the poems I consider well crafted and those I love best are in the language, but from time to time, I also produce pieces in English and Filipino. The erotic poems are in English. Then, one of the poems I posted was featured in an online website by the Asia Writes Project. This gave me a deep feeling of satisfaction and affirmation as a writer.

As the facebook poem/notes continued to grow, I would often get comments. Why not publish a collection of poetry? As usual, my 'stage-fright' comes up. But this year, I might have overcome this. I decided, this is my year. Finally, I will pursue publication. I will live up to that title I use when I travel abroad. The one I place under 'Occupation' - author.

At this point, I have finished writing the 50 poems that will make up the compilation of the Erotic Poetry, and yes, I also have a working title for the book.

YES! Book! I am braving publishing my first ever Book! Under my own name, solo!

Whew! I feel overwhelmed and excited.

There is no turning back. I just pray that this will go well until the book is finally launched.

What comes next will be editing, reviewing, revising and rewriting the poems if needed. After which, I will meet with my photographer friend Babak Niaraki to brainstorm on the photos for the book. I intend the book to be a coffee table poetry book of sorts, with 50 poems and an accompanying photograph for each poem. Well, technically, since it is Erotica, it will be a bedside table book, then. After this, I am sending the manuscript to my Literary Mother, John Iremil E. Teodoro for further editing and critique. She will also have the honor of writing and Introduction to the Collection. After which, we will then be marketing the Folio to publishers. Whew!

For now, I will celebrate the collection's completion with unrestrained hibernation and a good nights sleep!

Oh by the way, the working title of the book is

"The Unfinished Phoenix Tattoo"
and other poems of Longing, Love and Lust
(Well, mostly, Lust)

Whew! I am ecstatic! Wish me luck Batchoy Denizens and pray
that this pushes through, well up until launching!

Solo (Not the song)

And so, this was how I anticipated the new year.

When I came home, I was glad that one ritual had already been crashed out for me. I start my New Year celebration ritual by whipping my room into shape. Organized shape that is. I was kinda disconcerted to find my room oh so clean it spaced me out! Even the wood floor tiles were buffed and polished! Whoah! I got so disconcerted that I immediately poured out the contents of my trolly bag all askew! More like it! Hehehehe.

After resting a bit, I went out for coffee with some friends, and to buy me my personal gift. This is a yearly ritual for me. During special occasions, such as my birthday, Christmas, New Year, and death anniversary of the latest ex I am mourning as of the moment, I give myself something small yet meaningful. This year, since I managed to pop all the coffee makers I have bought or been given, I decided to buy me a new one. Nothing grand. Just some affordable generic black affair. I also got me coffee grinds, then Panetone from Tinapayan to go with my coffee.

I also bought me some tea light candles, vanilla essence oil, sandalwood incense sticks, a bottle of bubble bath liquid, Chai Spice tea a bouquet of flowers and white taper candles. I also got one pink helium filled balloon. These, except for pillar candle and the balloon, is for one of my new year rituals: a long luxurious bubble bath relaxing in candle light, enveloped by aromatic scents and sipping the tea infusion. I would ransack my closets and hopefully there are some bath salts left from my stash and some bath milk, mineral rocks and lather too. Half of the flowers I arranged into a tall vase so my room would be brighter and well... flowery-er. Half of them, I de-petaled to strew into the bath to make it more, well, spa-ish! Now all that's missing would be a naked chubby chinito Violinist to serenade me. Serenade lang talaga, no sex promise! Well... not until I finish my bath that is hehehehe....

The pillar candle is for my little 'light a candle' for peace ritual. I light it and say a little prayer. Very simple and self-explanatory. The balloon is for my wish release ritual. After writing down my wishes for the new year, I would tie it to a string tied to the balloon. As the new year is ushered in, instead of lighting fire crackers, I would release the balloon to drift towards the heavens!

This year, too, without fail, my little sister Sarah requested me to cook my legendary Spaghetti Carbonara. Before my bath, I made sure it was already done. What got to me was the absence of the usual mess with everyone rushing to and fro and the noises that the holiday spirits bring into the house. Now, it was quieter and more silent. The birds have flown the coop so to speak. It has been quieter already for the past years ever since, one by one, my older siblings have moved to the US of A to live their dreams and raise their families.

Now, it was almost silent. My three younger sibs were nowhere to be found in the house. My little brother is with his wifey and kid. My little sister also with his hubby and kid, and my baby sister, with his boyfie. There was an altercation between baby sis and little sis, and this prompted the exodus.

Although at around 10PM, my older brother, who came home for the Holidays, and little sis came for a visit. I was hopeful that somehow, there would be happy chatter as we usher in the new year later, but I was disappointed when they started bidding goodbye to celebrate their own new years with their own 'families.' Sigh...

And so, there was me, and my mom, my dad, and my mom's sister, who stays with us. Then again, evil as it may seem, I secretly relished the fact that, finally, for the longest time, I am the only one with the privilege of waiting and counting down the new year with our parents. ALL MINE!!! SOLO!!! You see, when you grew up in a brood of seven, you would know what I'm saying. Everyone hogs or competes, or elbows his or her own 'Me' time with the parents. Now, here we are, and I am the one with the singular distinction! AHLAVET! Hehehe...

We took seats on the terrace, the three of us, while we gazed at how the skies were painted with colors and firebursts. As the new year chimed in, we greeted each other, kissed, and hugged, and told each other how we love one another. Again, the SOLO feeling! HAH! ALL TO MYSELF! See, I'm the one left Mom! See, I'm still here DAD! ME! ONLY ME! Smug smug smug! hehehehe... It hit me. So! If this is the pay-off I get for the cosmic shittiness of finding myself still single and unattached, and being the last man standing so to speak among my siblings in the romance department, then it IS one swell pay-off.

And so, Dad raised his glass of Black Label, Mom her champagne,and me, my mug of coffee, to toast the new year!

Here's to A GREAT YEAR Ahead and here's hoping that, in some other aspects, I won't be SOLO for long!

Happy New Year Batchoy Denizens!

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

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!

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/

God Loves Bakla

God Loves Bakla

A Book Review/ Reaction/Reflection

By Luis Batchoy MCCQC

Warning: Spoilers ahead

" I am a 43-year-old Filipino gay man currently living in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. In July 2008 I completed a book about my life in the closet, which I hope will help people better understand homosexuality and homosexuals. Raised as a Catholic, I believe that God created me bakla and loves me as bakla. Since coming out of the closet in 2001, I have never been happier or more fulfilled as a person and as a Christian. I have come to realize that the Catholic Church is wrong to condemn homosexuality, which is actually a special grace from God."

- Raymond Alikpala

God Loves Bakla is a memoir written by Raymond Paolo A. Alikpala. At the outset, let me say that I always take memoirs with a grain of salt. I am not so sure how far one can truly look back, remember, be objective and not romanticize or embellish a recollection. This is just however a personal bias I have with memoirs and ‘diary’ type books. For the purposes of being unbiased, let us just take then the author’s word at face value. After all it is his story. This piece is more of a personal reflection or reaction paper rather than a book review. Again, this is just me and my personal biases.

God Loves Bakla is the life story (so far) of the author. How he grew up in a very Catholic Family, was educated in a Catholic School, later on becoming a Lawyer, then a worker in Cambodia, and his struggle with living in the closet, his spirituality (or religiosity for that matter) acceptance of the self and later on, embracing and celebrating his homosexuality, and that proverbial quest for the Holy Grail: finding that one true love. Though the book is centered on the author’s religious and spiritual temperament and how he dealt with his homosexuality, it also touched on issues of national and even international importance. He recalls his own experience of the People Power Revolution and the ouster of the dictator, his struggles academically, his life in the novitiate of the Jesuit order, his expulsion from the novitiate, his work with the refugees in Cambodia, living the gay life in Cambodia and Thailand, his brushes with that love that dares not speak its name, and the eventual ‘happily-ever-after’ moment with his life partner.

Generally, the book is easy to read, and light. The events are chronological in order and the ending satisfying. I must admit though that his story telling could have been more streamlined, and at times the author would go to great lengths in repeatedly saying the same thing over and over again: inconsistency of his sexuality with his faith, his aversion and internalized homophobia, his spiritual/religious gripes - that sometimes borders on diatribe. I understand though that these points are important to him and for him to tell his story and bare his soul to the reader, and eventually make his point. Though I expected a more ‘epiphanic’ revelation from him or to have given or written more on how it was to have finally broken free and come out of the closet, I understand that it could have been a very confusing yet at the same time liberating experience for one who has been cooped up and closeted all his life. The happiness and wonder could have caused him to be less introspective thus glossing over that very particular stage in his life. Then again, this is his life, and this is his story.

I can relate to the author as I was brought up a catholic and educated in a catholic school – to be exact- a Jesuit school myself. My elementary years were in Santa Maria Catholic School (now Ateneo de Iloilo) and I too subscribe to the Jesuit worldview of being ‘men and women for others’ and the motto of ‘Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam’. There were times though that I did not agree to or approve of his decisions, such as him telling of his ‘sin’ to his Novice Master leading to him jeopardizing his Novitiate. He knows for a fact, having been subject to stringent homophobic doctrines that this would possibly spell the end of his ‘religious calling,’ then again, this is his story and his life.

The book is wonderful, and his story, amazing and inspirational. If his being a virgin until the age of 32 is not something to marvel about then I do not know what else could. I even jokingly told Rev. Ceejay that the book is a little less interesting because sex comes at a very late part. Where’s the rough, body convulsing, death defying, world shattering, soul severing sex? But of course that’s just a joke. I may not be in agreement with the author with a few things, but that’s the charm of his story. I do not have to necessarily agree with him, yet the story remains fascinating.

His story is insightful and captivating. It discusses faith, politics, homoeroticism, breaking free and celebrating one’s sexuality. It offers by example, practical advices on coming out, dating and looking for love, the kind of love that dares not speak its name. The book made me think, rationalize, ratiocinate, be depressed, cry, laugh at the absurdity of life and other people, socialize, criticize, sympathize, empathize, celebrate his freedom, romanticized and be thrilled about the prospects of finding my own happily ever after. Again, I can relate with the author as I am a law student too, a developmental worker and a human rights advocate as well. The other thing that fascinates me is how he is able to write in an ‘unlawyerly; fashion. Simply put, he just bares his heart and soul for the world and sundry, complete with pride, ego, fears, joys, aspirations, hopes and dreams.

I hope seeing myself buying truckloads of copies so I can send them to my priest friends who are still hiding behind the cloth, to my lawyer friends who suffer from internalized homophobia, to my openly gay friends, to friends who have dilemmas coming out, and to a whole lot of people whom I believed will be touched and inspired by this book. I congratulate the bravery of the author in coming out with this book. I celebrate with him his acceptance of his sexuality. I romanticize with him his searching and finding his one true love. Incidentally, that specific quote stuck to my mind. He was telling of how he got angry at his partner for making him wait and missing their bus. He said he had been waiting for a whole day, and his partner answered him “I have been waiting for you all my life!” Saccharine!

With a sigh of relief, I told myself... Too bad there wasn't MCCQC yet for him when he was lost. Good thing there is MCCQC now for the rest of us, and him too, should he feel like coming over.
Indeed! GOD LOVES BAKLA!
Come to MCCQC you guys!

Grab a copy. It’s a wonderful read!

For Copies, you may contact MCCQC

Mobile No. 0915.1814963 globe
Hotline: (02) 508.35.23

Credits:

www.godlovesbakla.com

www.godlovesbakla.wordpress.com