Winds of Solitude

Winds of Solitude
By Joel S. Aba

I chased the winds that follow you
clinging to the ends of every strand
that dashed toward the still waters of the East
moving briskly towards an unknown end

I chased the winds that follow you
It moved through pristine forests and seas
And in ominous roads, tunnels, and cliffs
It turned me bruised as I clung

I chased the winds that follow you
The sun fed my unquenched spirit to follow
In turbulence I clinched in both hands
Pushing against the devastating force of the rage

I chased tightly to the winds that follow you
My life moved against the inevitable
My tears flew swift behind the shadows
That even the shadows constantly wished to set free

A louder call of the East reverberating
Have caused the wind to move swiftly and go
I tried to chase the last strand of the winds that follow you
Yet the strand of the wind has gone out of sight

The pasture of change cushioned the fall
The sun was up, yet I see nothing but darkness
Solitude wrapped the inside of my bashed spirit
And the brokenness left me nothing but empty

In this cruel fate I stood bold from the fall
Like how the horizon brings the sun back to life
And in stride I walk back to my lost, true self
Back to the self where I truly belong.

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.

Losing Hope, and Grip.

As I drive home, tears run down my cheeks. I almost feel the weight of my skin over me, and my head starts to numb, and so as my heart. I am caressed by the strong winds of early December nights, with its pleasant coldness that wraps me, but in discomfort.

I drove fast, as my body and face meets the cold air that didn't care most, as if the strength of both hands and the speed are both oblivious to me.

I was aware I was crying hard, and long. My breath is in tension, as if I couldn't grasp for the air that's more than enough for me to take.

I pitied myself for trusting a love ideal. I pitied myself for trusting my heart, again.

As I drove fast, I didn't even noticed the small groups of people on the side of highways looking at my ill-fated face, my melancholic but angst-looking facade, with the tears flowing freely from outside, and inside my heart.

I hated it. I hated everything that surrounds me that night. It was the moment I never wanted to happen again... or the moment, I expected not to happen again. I can see the city streets, and they all reminded me of the few sacrifices I've made like strolling downtown, spending time with the one I loved the most, or even driving on rainy season in wet clothes.

I almost can't believe I loved this way. I can't believe it's all happening to me now, and it's all happening again. I came asking as I drive. Why can't I be happy? Why has love been too unfair and greedy to me? Why am I living like this? -- WHY AM I LIVING?

The last time I knew, I loose grip over my motorcycle in a speed of 80 kilometers per hour, and freeing myself from below, leaving my motorcycle in somewhere away from my body as it lies with me in nowhere. I see people around me, and I just lied down, feeling the waters and mud, imagining I've died and now raising up to the sky, greeting the air and the stars around.

I was brought to the hospital, for the first time through some unknown and good people, and I woke up with the face of my sister smiling at me with her eyes in extreme pity of me.

Nobody knew what exactly happened and what the reason is of driving fast that night was. Only you, readers are the ones who know this. I asserted I was drunk, but I really was not as the doctor was saying.

But I never wished to die. I maneuvered the motorcycle so as not to hurt myself more. I want to give myself a lesson, physically hurt myself a little because If I cry more and more, I'm only hurting my heartbreak-shattered heart -- and I know my body can take it longer, but my heart can't.

Perhaps, I've gone numb of all these and this time, after the fateful accident, I'll never love again.

Introducing, my Partner in Crime.

Before you read on, allow me to clarify: I AM NOT INTO DANCESPORT. =)

The recently concluded University dancesport competitions in NORSU is worth not only for a simple come-and-watch but its really worth the watching-all-over-again. But it's not only because the competitors blew our minds and put us all in great and awestruck hush in our amazement, but simply because the "she" won it ALL OUT!

These two friends of mine showed me what real dancing is. I may not be into dancing, but watching them groove, i guess I'd be into working in for a practice hopefully.

Michelle was desperate to make it that she even had a hard time convincing me to invite Michael, Dennis and Bryan, my three close friends from outside. Good thing they win, else, I'd get into a shameful situation. =) =)

But it was a special and pensive night to me and my bestfriend, because I know how much she loves dancing.. She may have proved to many how great she could be. But being her bestfriend, I know there's really much more to say.

Here's a picture of her that I've kept a hardcopy in my closet:

She's my partner in crime. She knows both the dimmest and lightest side of me. We share the same thoughts that in fact, we need no word to say but just a wink of an eye, an expression on the face and a gesture to relay a message. I would have become Michelle Eleccion If I were a girl. =)

We talk like there's no tomorrow and we see each other as If we've not see each other for a very long time. She's even been mistakenly tagged as my girlfriend for the Nth time now.

Before, i was think there is nothing really special with this beautiful woman except the fact that she knows how to dance. But there is something that puts us in place together - something really the same that makes us stop after long hours of talking about almost everything and say, and we obliviously chorus, "Bestfriend jud tikaw."

My bestfriend's beauty and grace speaks of her intelligence and talent, and her intelligence and talent speaks of her generosity and wisdom.

And for that, "Bes, " NORSU system's dancer, (ehehe) I count you one of the best women of my life.

"I am just sooo proud of yah!"




Royalty ambisyozo
Copyright 2008

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!