Wanna know what annoys me??

Old people with no pics at man**m!!! HULLO???? That is man**m; everybody is obviously gay!! *There, I used the word without censor* And if u dont plan to get revealed or recognized, get a life out there!! AND DON'T STARE AT SOMEBODY'S ELSE PICS!!! PERVER*!!!

And What annoys me the most?????

Guess.

Nothing is more annoying than a guy who spends his love-life thinking about one sole infatuation to another guy!

You're not a true lover by doing that. That doesnt prove anything, except your being silly.

Ow, okay. okay. Okay, it's heroic (*huh?*). It's rare (*seriously?*). But then you give out this 'single-but-not-available' crap?? And you just willingly drop yourself within his arms, even for a second?? Wait a moment there. You're not Cinderella. You don't have to pack again your dream whenever 12 o'clock comes. Go out and have some fun already! Your biological clock is ticking, and it doesnt wait. Love wont wait.

Let him go already.
Wish his happiness.
Laugh at him being dumb and dumber each seconds of life for dumping you or not being able to see the real prince(ss) in you.
Celebrate the scar you bear.
Move your ass on.
And be thankful because you still can love someone (else).

Being gay is already hard enough. Dont make it harder for yourself. It's annoying.

Scar (To Those Who Have Just Had Their Heart Broken. WB.

The contest is a lions' fight. So chin up, put your shoulders back, walk proud, strut a little. Don't lick your wounds, celebrate them. The scars you bear are the signs of a competitor. You were in a lions' fight, Stevens. Just because you didn't win doesn't mean you don't know how to roar. [Richard Webber, to Isobel Stevens, Grey's Anatomy s04e12]

There's this thing called love. It blossoms on any soil, from the shiny palace to muddy swamp, from dawn to dusk, or even at time when you don't expect, much and it brings joy and beauty. You're suddenly this high-school boy again. Though the nurturing part is sometimes tiring, annoying, and making you wanna give up to some extent, you know deep inside your heart, you can't let it go. You won't. You don't want to. Because you're bonding. Because you have put your hope and faith to it.

Sometimes, you even think you're miserable. You think of him 24 hours a day - or maybe 16 hours a day, if in 8 hours of your night-sleep, you don't dream about him. You wanna meet him at every chances, and sweet nothings and words of love are just not enough to describe what you feel. You wanna kiss him. You wonder if he feels the same too. You wanna tell the world how much you love him, and here the problem comes: you can't do that, because you're not ready. Because the closet inside you is still a very comfortable place to escape from the cruel world. Partly, because you can't risk it all for a guy.. After all, you're a man too. You know exactly what men think. You know that your investment on opening up yourself is too big compared too the risk you're taking. You know that men aren't created to be faithful.

So, here's the misery again. You keep playing hide and seek. You become paranoids and anxious. But you can't let go. So you're telling yourself: This is not wrong. AJ is not a criminal. I am fine. It's love.

But is it worth it? Do you love him more than you love yourself? Or is it just better than being alone after all? Or just two men, with the same need, meet at one junction, and 'okay, lets do it'?

Then you lost the fight. He left you. Or he stopped choosing you. For someone else. For some ridiculous reasons like getting married. Marriage or parents may be a good reason. But it is lousy and cheesy. It only suggests one thing: you're not worth it for him to come out or to be claimed as his significant other. You keep second-guessing yourself. You're devastated. But you know, you'll heal. You'll find another guy. And the taste won't be the same.

This is not the first time. But each, still leaves you different kinds of scars.

Life, is not only about love, after all. Dont you think so?
Life, is too short to drown yourself in misery, thinking that you're damaged and scary and bitchy and nobody wants you.
Life, is too short for all that melancholic stuff..Once is a while is okay lar.
So now, lets celebrate. Anything. Your life. Your broken-heart. Your ex. Your future. Anything. You'll get better. Dont punish yourself more. You're not a choice for him. You're everything and the only one for someone else you have yet to meet.


And moreover, I know that you know..
that....

....doesn’t matter how tough we are, trauma always leaves a scar. It follows us home, it changes our lives, trauma messes everybody up, but maybe that’s the point. All the pain and the fear and the crap. Maybe going through all of that is what keeps us moving forward. It’s what pushes us. Maybe we have to get a little messed up, before we can step up. [Alex Karev, Closing Voice Over, Grey's Anatomy s05e19]

Fiction: Him, Me, and Us

He's still the same person. The same smile, the same big arm, and the same eyes. It was as if time couldnt make an effort to carve the trace of impermanence on his face. And maybe to his soul. He was the same person who would smile idiotically on my sweet-nothings, and then simply said sorry to me. In that way, I was also still the same person: I would laugh pathetically, and then he would just give me a sweet smile.

For the late two years, I have hoped that his smile would always stay in my mind. Hence, I could print it out to my heart whenever the longing on his voice and his eyes were so stinging. Yet, I always failed on that. I didnt know how many times I have spent already, just to wish that my mind were a digital camera; the one that captured his smile in the memory, so the beautiful image could last forever. That wish didnt come true, of course, but now that he's here, it didnt matter anymore.

I always liked the way he told his story. About how the sky that hung above the earth he stood. About the road and the sea he saw, and how the sea became one inseparable line with the sky at one infinite horizon. I liked the sparks in his eyes, the taste of his freedom, and the beauty of his dauntless wings that brought him crossing the entire world. Nothing could stop him. Not even me. And maybe, not even love.

Even more, I liked the way his seemlingly-never-ending-story met the ending conclusion. He would tell me another dream, another destination, and another journey he had planned on. Then, we would just stay silent. For a really long time. I would just look at him, and I saw love. I didnt know about him, and I never would. Because I have never wanted to become a burden to his wings. I couldnt do that. I have never asked him to stay here, for longer, nor forever. This, what we had, was already a bliss, and it's enough. Staring at each other, just like this. Or sometimes, me lying in his arms, and falling asleep there. I was really sure, his arms would hurt like hell when he woke up the next morning, but he never complained. Just a morning smile, sweet as ever, and a funny eyes staring at me.

He was not a person who believed in farewell. To him, there was really never a farewell; because we're all connected. Somehow. And that thought has kept me alive and lively on every morning without him.

But that night, he did something unusual. He smiled, at the end of his story. His reached for mine, and then he hugged me. I almost couldnt breath. But it was warm. No side story.

I looked at him in the eyes. He was staring back at me too.
He didnt smile. I have never seen him like that before.

But it was never too late.

Gently, he then whispered to my ears words that only existed in my dreams: I wanna stay.. this time, forever. For me.

I was silenced. For a minute or two, I thought he must be joking.
But he didnt give out his idiotic smile. He just stared at me.

But why, I asked him.

Because I wanna be with you. He said. Now with his warm eyes. Or is it just me?

You're staying for me? I asked again, with doubt.

No, for myself. I owe it to myself to be with you. I love you.

I love you, too. I whispered back.

He then kissed me.
Two men in the same bed. Who cared about what the world would say?
It didnt matter for him. It didnt matter for me.
So, It didnt matter for us.
That's enough.

Now, excuse me.
I wanna make love to him. ;-)

Where's The Promised Happiness?

I was being mellow again. The whole morning. Hahaha.. I am not wallowing, so relax.

I just realised that I was a victim too. Victim of this cruel world - or to be specific, AJ world. To be more precise, I am a victim of AJ-social construct. Or is it just me?

I was browsing around the-site-where-you-can-be-a-model-for-any-kind-of-underpants-existed-without-pay-and-without-face-and-better-you-could-show-off-your-di*k-and-suddenly-you're-this-hottie-member-featured-by-the-site. Everybody seems to have a very nice chest and abs. Not that I am that into muscular things, or that being-a-model-like-I-described-above-with-too-many-dash is a sin. No, it's not that.

It's the affect for me.

I'd look down at my abs again. One round shape. Hahaha.. It's not abs. I've got a better vocab to describe: BELLY.

So, what to do next?
I browsed youtube, and found a few videos on abs training.
I downloaded the flv file. Then began training.
Then
.
.
.
Alamak! It hurt. Like hell. Stupid and silly. What I am doing this for, again? Jeez.

Anyway, it was the side story.
Back to the mellow things.
I was listening to various mellow songs I have on my stupid handphone. It supports blackberry yet no picture editor. So everytime I tried to post a narcist pict on facebook, it just said; File is too big. Yes, wish that my chest is that big too. Yeah yeah.

Back again.
I always adore Jay Chou. And everytime he released an album - which happens annually - I always find a special favourite song, like the song of the year for me. Last year, it was Rainbow (Cai Hong), and before that, there came Step Back (Tui Hou), and Maple (Feng), Common Jasmine Orange (Qi Li Xiang), and and.. haha. Back to the topic.

This year, my fave is Where's The Promised Happiness (Shuo Hao De Xing Fu Ne)..
Be careful. The mellow taste is so poisonous.

Here is the MV:

Reserved

All the short messages. All the phone calls. All the sweet nothings. Suddenly they're all felt so excessive. So out of place. So out of date.

Don't get me wrong. I am a romantic person. I write poems. I write melancholic stuff - so melancholic that you even wanna puke.

But, getting the same messages from the very same person who just told you he's in love with you a week or two ago? Wait a minute. That's a whole different context. Everytime he sent me a message, it would be only containing words like 'I miss you', 'Thinking of you', 'Hi..', just that. AND he expected me writing back. What I am supposed to say? How is me saying 'I miss you' back going to help him? To help this relationship? Is this even a relationship? Moreover, doesnt he think that I deserve more than that? Hullo?

And he actually called me at 11 PM, when I was already asleep. And then once at 8 AM, when I was at office already. I was like, 'Get a life, dude.' I didnt pick up, because I couldn't. At other times? He just asked me if I had dinner yet, or if I was busy, or How I am adjusting to the new environment. He never forgot to say that he missed me. Whenever he's at that mode, I just dont what know what to say. I want communication. I have lots to say, actually, but at times like that, I just swallow it back. Because I know, me speaking what I feel, is not going to be useful. It's only getting things harder. You dont do that, not especially when things are already hard. Plus, he's not ready to talk. And this is not me putting words in his mouth. I just know. I sense it. I sense this 'better-have-somebody-than-be-alone-after-all' in him.

Years ago, maybe sweet nothings would work for me. But now? It's just meaningless. Words, to me, show nothing. You dont say 'I love you' to someone in expectation that he would say the same thing back. You dont say 'I miss you' everyday, in the thought so that he would stay for you, that he would not give up on you. You dont get to say 'I really hope that you're here with me', because the other party is feeling exactly the same thing too, and it's too miserable for himself too for not being there for you. That is not romantic. That is Oeey Goeey. Romantic is when you do unusual things - things you normally would not do, but you would, for him. Romantic is when you watch him falling asleep in your arms, but you dont move, and the next morning, your arms ache like never but you wont complain, because his comfort is more than enough for you than any pain-killer. Romantic is, despite you're so damn busy, you still make your time for him - you tell him you're busy and what you're busy with and hope he has a nice day ahead. Romantic is not the same as words. Nor regular SMS. Nor regular phone calls. And you dont text or call only when you're not busy, or when you have some spare time, like he does. Dont you think your significant other deserve more than your spare time? I mean, hullo, what is he? A leisure fun??? Jeez.

One thing I like about older guys, is the fact that they're more mature in so many ways. More mature in the context that 'I've been through what you've been through, so I understand', not judging, not blaming, and not just saying 'You are still a brondong, so you dont know.' How're those things gonna help? But he's not the same, and not even close to what I call mature. I am not supposed to generalize. I know. I am not taking him for granted.

But now I am more than convinced. This is not a relationship.
I am not in a relationship.
I am not single, too.
And I have exactly a word to describe this.

I am reserved. Oops. It's that too harsh? LOL.
And no, I am not playing with him. Or anybody.
But this is not love. He has never once told me that he wants to come visiting me. He just asks me to go back to J- or B-town and then meets him. *Shaking head*.
I am being overly picky or hard for people to approach me? I am being overly expensive while I am cheaper than a bitch?

LOOK. I know I dont have the look. Somebody just told me right to my face, 'It's a good thing that you realise that.' I dont even have the body that you would be going to dream about, or the one that makes you scream orgasm all night long. *that's gross..haha*

But is that a reason why I should be easy on people? While I still believe that love does exist? That my fairy tale will come true? I dont mind the waiting. Why should people mind, then?

AJ world. It's getting harder each day, dont you think? I just dont get it.
Kevin Walker was right, after all. We would never know how to be an aj.


ps. and no. this is not me being a princess. this is not me demanding things. this is not me feeling that i am the center of the world.

Choosing(?)

Life is like a street with too many junctions. Each leads you to mysterious future, one you'll never know, unless you walk down the path. The path then has other junctions you'll have to take. So it's like never ending.

Sometimes, you just have to turn right, turn left; and no, you don't turn straight. You know what I mean.

I mean, what defines us? What defines the word 'AJ'?

Is it because you- a male - sleep with other male - or a female - sleep with another female?

I believe not so. You are an AJ when you do think about having sex with same-sex people. So, a mere thought defines who we are. We enjoy thinking or having sexual fantasy about guys, don't we?

And this thought, this joy, this fantasy, can't be repressed. You may thought that you have stopped thinking. Or that you have stopped having sex about the guys. But once an aj, you're an aj forever. You dont turn straight, even if you're married. Even if you kiss your bride of the opposite sex, you make love with her, and you think you're safe.

But it doesnt change who you are. It doesnt change anything, but your cover story. You put the marriage in front of this magazine, but it does not represent your whole life. Because at the back of the magazine, at the point you dont wanna see, you know deep down inside, you still have the curiosity. Curiosity that drives you crazy, and makes you want to touch him. You may lead a happy life. Oh yes, you will. But you know there's this hole, a small yet disturbing hole in your heart. It's like, you choose a salad over a sphagetti, while sphagetti is always your favorite. You keep telling yourself that salad is okay, and you just keep the sphagetti under the table. But the sphagetti isn't gone. It doesn't disappear.

So, the point here is, we don't choose who we are. We don't have the privilege to do so. Being aj is not a choice. Marriage isn't also a choice. Marriage is not supposed to be a choice. It's supposed to be an agreement. Or, whatever. I don't really like the idea of marriage. It's a stupid institution. It doesn't prove anything. It's just a license you'll have to pay for your whole lifetime. It's not commitment. It's not even responsibility. And to the top of that, you don't choose to get married because you don't wanna grow old alone. Or because you want a better cover story. Or whatever it is.

Love is not a choice. Making love to whom, it is also not a choice.

It's supposed to be pure. Even when people said it's forbidden, or the religious one said that it's sinful. Or it is not proper. Whatever.