Fragranced Past

Fragranced Past
By Joel S. Aba

Has there a way out from your fragrance,
I would rush out and go
Where there’s a chance to meet
A celebration of the unending serenity

Out there, I would hope
For forever, eternal riddance
From the intoxicating fragrance
Where life breathes no longer,
Away from a piercing scent of past

Against hope I would hope
This soon will fade
In the dimmest of the dimmest
That fragrance I smell will spur no memory
Of that seeming everlasting love

A love that’s trampled in Hades
A love that I would hope eternally
That in the recesses of the soul
like the harvested fields,
the descending tone of songs,
the burnt books,
the death of mosquitoes,
the amnesia of a mind,
the spoken words,
the deflowered and dying ones,
like the parting of seas in Testaments
it would end, part, torn, everlastingly

Mourning should come to end
right now
Senses should identify no more
reminding me of that delicate scent
pointing a gun to my heart
where trigger may pull down and cause my death
In this gripping memory of you

Oh, keep me away from the fragrance
That even when you ain’t seen it’s still near
Nearer and nearer yet I dread,
like troubling waters
like the crash of winds
to the bending of bamboos that stays resilient
By time… I stand, breathing

For today, I would close the lids of mine eyes
yet still breathe
Hoping that when lids open again
in the light of day,
I dwell no more
in that only remembrance of you
And free you, my fragranced past.


Copyright, The NORSUnian's Handurawan 2009

Straight or not Straight?

Below are two pictures. The first one was taken sometime 15 years ago. The second one was taken December 2008. Don’t be duped! The first picture isn't me. It’s my brother Germano Aba, now 30 something, working and living apart from our family for about 11 years now. He is probably the only person in the world who has the closest facial profile with mine (except Joe Jonas, of course) that even my neighbors and grandparents often makes me a misnomer. Worse, even my parents erroneously call me with his name in some of our conversations.

(BEFORE AND AFTER? 1980's vs. 2008 - two decades now, and I'm still young. hehe..)












But this doesn’t drag me up to my insecurity even when my parents, sisters and relatives often tells me that "Manong" was more handsome than I do. lol. I love my being me, even if there’s someone who apparently looks like me 15 years ago! =)

But just so you know, he’s 5’9 in height, Silliman University CBA cheerdancer in the 80’s, FU Cheerdancer of the same decade, host and public speaker, vain, hot guy (according to cousins), barkadista, cream-of-the-crop – and yes, Gay (No, not the cross-dresser guys, just the so-called “discreet”).


As a matter of fact, he’s living with somebody. Together, for almost 10 years now, they both own a small business with a computer station in Manila – and happy. My brother goes to his work in Quezon City, while Ike, his partner, takes charge of the business at home.

You may ask, why am I getting these issues out about someone who has caused degradation and shame to my family?

This is actually my first blog that talks about homosexuality… and this seems so interesting. Well, months ago, I was tasked by the publication to write a column on gender issues and sexuality. While typing down my thoughts, it flamed my concern with how homosexuals these days are insulted, and emotionally abused by people who have less understanding of their kind, and who have less concern for their cause. Scribbling information, I couldn’t think less than my brother who has now recovered out from the discrimination of other people during his college. He even had girlfriends then, jived with tough guys, had musculinity all over, etc... etc... But as for his experience, suppression of what is innate in one’s sexuality only causes more confusion and frustration. That time, my brother chose happiness rather than the torment of living with somebody, and facing the consequences of a suppressed life.

Now, his story also reminded me that not all men who look very straight, not all men who jive with men’s bandwagon are straight guys, as the magazine says, “Straight man is the new gay."

There are even a lot of them, whom I secretly know anyway, still does the same thing with what my brother did – jiving with guys as much as they could to cover too soon what has become, well, in many instances, an obvious and dubious act. These gays have not gone out of public rather, suppressing themselves in the boundaries of being man.

I am not discriminating those who try to be unnatural to cause others to think the other way. The fact that these kinds are also discriminating those who get “out” or the “confessed discreet gays,” makes me and some people raise eyebrows. Worst, they never know that people are already talking behind them.

To combat these, those people should know the rule of living a life: Be who you are. My brother never have had to be "womanized" to live a life he wished to. Let it out, but live a life accordingly. With that, just like my brother, you will get the apt respect you needed.

Bisyoso Ako!

Ambiyoso is finally here!

Aside from blogroyalty web logs, I have just created another blogsite (this one) to relinquish the other side of my personality through my postings, aside from being a royalty (kuno) in my own light. The 3 words that just spurred from my mind while typing this posts are, perhaps, enough to distinguish and describe myself, as a being, entirely:

Ambigious. I'm gonna crack it! My being is somehow vague to most people who knew me. Some are puzzled of even the most commonly observable attitudes and character that I possess. Ambiguous - in the sense that I have, for all these days, kept alot of things that I have reserved and kept. And this time, in this page, I shall open it all up.

Ambitious. Not a bad thing! Nothing to really explain further. I have been sinking into an obsessively illusive dream of being a royalty, and that, alone, speaks how ambitious i could get.

Vicious. A bad, good thing. Vice or being vicious for me does not necessarily mean having the nature or quality of vice or immorality as merriam webster defines it. But I could be dangerously aggressive, or marked by violence or ferocity.. My vice though is marked by being obsessively ambitious and i'm definitely thinking much (a vice) of dreaming of many things that may come along the way in the near tomorrow.

Yeah, those three things do speak of me. Whatever it is... I can't write something here anymore.
I'm ambiguously, ambitiously, vicious. BE COOL!

Why Can't Love be Fair?

My bestfriend CeeJ never learned his lesson - never to get too attached to an uncertain love. But he was too sure it was the love he was needing in his lifetime, even changing his entire life was the harshest thing he has decided upon, after hearing the words, "Let's just be friends."

He gave up. Perhaps, just almost. But seeing him bruised and scathed, I think he had just given everything up - his life, his time, his priorities to have a love perfect. He has told me often about how happy he was - like how eloquent he delivered his report at school, or how grateful he was with his newly styled haircut (even if it looks like the worst Halloween hairdo).

But he was the happiest person I've known. He was good to his friends, even good as a person, as a student, as a son. But I learned from him that not all good people get good lives.

But lately, there was a different story I have heard - it was as If my bestfriend was seeing someone that i guess, he was extremely sure of. He admitted that she was different among all he have had loved. That time, I came into believing that my bestfriend has finally found that one true love. I came into believing that not all his stories closes in a tear-jerking stage drama.

He have tried and failed, and then failed, and failed again.

Time shifted its path again for my bestfriend that I even get tired of all his seemingly unending stories. I heard enough of what Ceejay has to say. I was his soul-partner. He talks to me like there's no tomorrow. He taps my back when he wants to say something or even question me again, "Why can't love be fair?"

But I always believed in him. For my bestfriend, forgetting her is the hardest thing to do but he knows that forgetting her won’t be the hardest by the time he rebuilds his life again.

How lucky I am for not having experienced love at all even if I look pretty gorgeous.


-Oozer, the ambitious motorcycle