Guilty

I spend the whole of 25th playing Clues with my siblings. Instead of routinely going over relatives' houses, we contented ourselves with the nine rooms of the manor looking for the killer and the weapon used. Pretty much, that would hint our disposition over the holidays.

If the Grinch decided to have a family, we are always ready for adoption.

Bookworms and 5 books I wish I read when I was 13

The closest to gay literature I had as a teenager was Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray. One could even argue that the ambiguity blurs the inclusion of Wilde's classic in the LGBT genre. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, one of my favorite books, had a strong gay character, and some novels, like Dickens', had a few gay characters to support their plot.

I took refuge to literature as a kid, which then became my entire personality. My aunt even told me, in front of my parents, that I linger to much on make believe worlds that I forgot to go out and play with my noisy cousins. Reading was the easiest escape route. No running, no locks to be picked- just a book and a quite nook to stay and the world just shifts to an entirely different dimension.

Dodging havoc

Zoo animals are in cages for a practical reason- to avoid bloodbaths. Lions are separated from zebras; snakes away from rats. Take away the cage and expect a big mess. This is why it always baffles me when people asks why I divide my life into separate compartments; why I tend to disassociate one part from another.

Last night, I was out drinking with high school friends when the conversation went to catching up with the lives of our batchmates. Six were already producing children on purpose, which made most of my friends evaluate their relationship and commitment status. One questions her tendency to fall for guys who are already in a relationship. One laments over a past love who, according to her, set the standard for her future flings.

Dodging bullets on this type of conversation has been an almost perfected craft. Non-law friends who ask how's law school usually get contented with a simple "same;same" or "just fine" for an answer. When it comes to talks of love and life, I would limit my self to who am I conversing with. In the case of my high school barkada, only those trivial facts that they already knew- the girl I used to go out with in high school, the perversion of my make believe worlds; but I never go beyond those encounters I had with the other compartments of my life.

The night ended with my barkada not getting any raunchy details from me. There are used to it, as far as the oldest in the group believes.

It was a safety precaution, I must admit. Being closeted; all the drama and issues of my too complicated life- there is just a need for some security. Or else.

December Rain

I remembering telling Tim, a friend in college, that I could never be with someone who wasn't thrilled by rainstorms. After that, it simply became part of the test.

I even had this picture on my mind.

Browsing classic books in a bookstore, then reading together, probably in a cozy coffee shop or restaurant away from the busy life of the city. The rain would hit the dark pavements just right after we step out of the store and decide to go home. There will be no umbrella on sight. Instead, I would look at you, think of that conversation with Tim, and wait for your response while I let my senses engulf the sound of water trickling down, of thunder rumbling from afar.

I'll ask you, "so what do we do now?" You'll say "Run!" and grab my hand. We'll dash around the crowd of busy working men, splashing our way till our bodies are soaked. You'll take the lead, and I'll start to loose my sprint. But you'll look back; you'll stop and wait for me to catch up, for me to take your hand again; for two estranged lovers to continue to run under dark clouds, drenched and enchanted. And I'll take that as a sign.

But then, growing up is inevitable,for some part devastating. Movies turned out, not to be just a suspension of disbelief, but an extension of how frustrated a man can be with his own image. Life has crossed its road; love might have left behind;

but unexpected thunderstorm in the middle of a sunshiny day would never loose its charm.