For The Nth Time

Here’s a reminder to take out the trash in your life. If it’s sitting at your face, lurking behind your back or rotting in a corner, I suggest you grab a bag to collect it. Then, throw I away. Surely, this is the best time for me to be talking about this after yet another mistake of letting my loneliness stall my progress. For a while, I have exhibited recovery from hoarding dirt. To speak in decrypted language, I have always sought for drama in my relationships - real, imposing and imaginary. This is on top my preference in a guy, which is another story. And for a time, I have been drama-free. This might have gotten me into relentless writing spree in the first place. However, just recently the growth has been delayed.

If there’s anything to have in life, it is a good discerning mind. A mind that can distinguish the cycle of abuse that you have subjected your heart and body for a period of time can be a good tool. And if our heart and body are just robot organs getting orders from our mind, then they must follow suit. But I am of defective brain. Mine believes what my gut tells me and I tell myself, “Why do I keep on believing my instinct if in the end it spins my head crazy?” I guess some people, like myself, are hard-wired to believe in the possibility of what might be based from their hearts of heart.

Again, this can be funny and at times adorable when you are young and I am still young. But for now, I must settle for the lesson. I have to be prompted constantly that certain ideologies like marrying a man carrying a broken wind is toxic, engaging in adulterous relationships is a dump and seeking for that “pavement that leads nowhere” is nothing but a waste.

For once, I want to invest in other things that I want. Writing is one of them. Though, I have limited ideas to talk about, hopefully these can be a part of a discussion and if I can dream bigger, a movement.

Musical Chairs Or Chicken Wings

Coming in late into the game, I have been blithely unaware of the moves and tactics in dating. Truth be told, I started way too early having interest in it at age 12. I remember dating someone around that age over a dozen of burgers and cola. It will never work. He is as straight as a ruler. The best thing I got from that date was getting locked up in a room with him at a school fair. We hated that experience though he became a friend later on.

After that incident, it took a long time before I went on a date. Apparently, when I went back into the game it would require me more than a piece of mashed ground beef and carbonated soda. Everything is in reindeer-quick speed. A moment of lingering looks can lead to a coffee date, then a movie and then… BOOM! Next thing you know Gay 1 is feeding Gay 2 with a gelato in public nonetheless. They decide to go exclusive after 2 days and then in a month’s time they go their own ways.

The series of interrelated changes happen in one particular group. A friend has said, “it’s like Melrose Place.” Everyone has gone to bed with someone, one way or another. My refusal to succumb to this connection of sexual plethora stems from a lot of fears and insecurities but more than anything, the thought of being included in six degrees of a certain John, is the horror of all my horrors.

Ironically, I think I am in it. I am playing it. I have to. Otherwise, I will prolong the condition of my sexual status or the lack of any. It’s a sick, sad cycle - injurious and tedious.

It is my theory though that for every game, there is a code - a technique that so far I have not been able to break. I do not think I will be getting the point anytime now and it is fine by me. I am just going to stand outside the game and eat my chicken wings.

I can imagine Gay 1 and Gay 2 after playing the musical chairs for sometime. They sit down in exhaustion and realize they are only ones left standing in the game. The Gloria Gaynor and Lady Gaga music on loop stopped as well. I hope they make it, together or apart.

Waiting To Happen

Devirginization, the process of a virgin’s first sexual experience, is so normal these days that celibacy and/ or self-preservation is already considered an urban myth. The act of opening up to another person special or not has become so prevalent today that it puts certain bible verses to shame.

Last Sunday, four single ladies, I included have responded to a breakfast invitation that opens with a statement, “I did it.” As usual, we have asked our friend the details of that event. Well, not biblically but how it has led her to finally do it. As she narrates the event that predates almost nine years of on-and-off flirting, I have noticed something strange. The fact that this deed is a reaction from her being tired of playing the good girl is not the only thing to take notice of but also the fact the she is not that proud of it. She is uncertain or deigns to think of the impact of this experience. I feel otherwise for her. I envy her. To imagine that one person such as her type (prude and very overly conservative and mature) can easily give it away still leaves my jaw wide open; feel free to throw a pun that a fly can enter my mouth.

It is my assumption that her experience impacts my life harder. Being an over-thinker myself, this occurrence presents the inevitable sleepless nights, long sighs and multitudes of explanations why and how shitty my situation is. Heck, I have started dreaming about it last night.

I can no longer insert my witty puns on this one. This has got to stop. All the illusions of doing it with certain eligible candidates, the positions to do/ perform/ receive, the preparations and even the situations that will lead to it. This is starting to be borderline noise to me.

So far, I only know one thing - I am waiting. If sex is the only thing to factor in this equation, I have done it eons ago. To me this is not a case of morality, being virtuous and all. Not even the readiness. I refuse to settle with the norm that the deed can define me. If I’m out to get the best teachers in life, my experiences, to educate me then sex will never be a part of it - at least to me. I have blithely embraced the fact that I have never been the go-to person for sex. That is just not who I am. I just hope my other head agrees with me.