Pride is Always Important

I feel bad that I failed to post anything for National Coming Out Day.  Life has been pretty hectic in many fronts and I will admit, blogging was one of the first few things that had to be put on hold.

But man I have to say this:

I am very pissed off and disappointed at how some have transformed the Annual Pride Event into a personal statement aimed at another organization.    While the rest of the world is talking about the importance of being heard, of making our presence welcome, and of showing unity, here in the Philippines the very group that once clamored on the importance of participating in the Annual Pride March has taken the most inane direction in this year's Pride Events.

I'll let you see the post here:
http://www.taskforcepride.com/

Now, had it been a statement saying "Marching is NOT the ONLY WAY to celebrate Pride" then I would applaud it for reminding the Pink Community of the many other ways one can show support and commemorate the sacrifices and challenges that were faced back in the Stonewall Riots.  But no, the group is instead claiming that marching is not necessary.

After years of saying it was.  All those times before, the push was, "How do we encourage people to march?"  "How do we remind people if they don't feel they are represented in the Pride March, then they should go to BE represented."  Suddenly now it is all you don't have to march?  Bullshit.

Why?  Because SOMEONE ELSE IS HANDLING THIS YEAR'S PRIDE MARCH EVENT.
And rather than be supportive of it, or perhaps still have a second march people can also participate in, the group has decided to make a public statement claiming marching is not necessary.

Quite a huge CHANGE from what was being proclaimed back in July.

It is the same stupid slandering that was being bandied about during the White Party nights.  Many groups opted to host their own White Parties.  Think about that for a second:  MANY GROUPS WANT TO HOST THEIR OWN WHITE PARTIES.  That is a HUGE step in the right direction.  People are all celebrating in their own ways.  People are all making events to celebrate what used to be a  single event!  So now, every LGBT person in Metro Manila has the option to choose where it is more convenient.  Has the freedom to go where their friends opt to go.  Has the joy of being able to celebrate the night by visiting all the events they want!   Can you imagine?  Having such freedom of choice?  There was a time when having a party that celebrated gay freedoms had to be underground.  This was a good step.

And yet, the slander began.  "Not the REAL White Party"  and so on was thrown about.  As if a specific organization in the Philippines was the root of it all.  As if a specific location in the Philippines was the real reason the party was born.  As if Stonewall did not matter.

Selfish.  Idiotic.  Divisive.

Task Force Pride has become a force of personal pride, rather than a beacon of unity and colorful hope.
I am now embarrassed to know the people behind this direction.  (And yes, I want my book back.  You've borrowed it long enough.)

Very embarrassed.

My partner and I will still march at the upcoming Pride March in Quezon City this year.  We will still show our support to the Pink community.  We will still remind people that many of the freedoms and levels of acceptance that are now enjoyed were thanks to the people back in the past who took the courage and effort to MARCH and to SPEAK UP.

https://www.facebook.com/pridecouncil

True Pride was never about "who gets the credit" for an event.
And that's but one of the many things a certain group has to learn about truly being a voice for a community.

A host of messages I wish I could say

In this era of social networking, one can easily get a glimpse of the lives of one's friends through their newsfeeds and updates.   While this is mostly good and cool in keeping in touch, it does also at times place one in the strange zone of knowing more than one wanted to know.  Or worse, feeling the urge to offer unsolicited advice for friends who clearly are doing things the wrong way.

But since unsolicited advice is never welcomed, I decided to just write this open blog post and dedicate them to the many people who will probably NEVER read this page anyway since they are absorbed right now by what they believe to be insurmountable problems of their own.

So yeah, let's begin:

If you think the relationship is that fucked up, then by all that is right and holy, end it.  You do deserve better.  And guess what, so does your partner.

Stop looking for love by going to a gay club and flirting with strangers.  You'll have a better chance meeting new people through friends at parties, or contacting someone online with a clear declaration of wanting to get to know each other and not sleep together as a first intention.

If you caused your own damned problem, stop whining about it on the social network, then getting angry when people point out it is your fault.

No, we're not talking about you.  But yes, it is amusing to know you still read everything I post as about you.

Don't worry too much.  Your work will always be as successful.  You have true talent.  And an innate ability to reach out and touch people's lives.

I'm sorry you're in your situation.  But I'm no longer in any position to help you have a better life.  You had your chance.

Seriously, look in the mirror.  Keep your eyes open this time.

It ain't escape when its leaving someplace that keeps you from being happy and taking steps towards taking back responsibility for your own life.

It is not my fault you read my stuff. But clearly, you do.

I guess some people just love to think the world revolves around them.
Even worse.
Some people so desperately want to make others think MY world revolves around them.

Yes, you probably even think Global Warming is because you're too "hot."

I know I can hold very strong opinions about things.  I know some people have found me to be at times a tad too proud or too intellectual about certain aspects of life, gay or otherwise.  I know I can be very vocal about how much I hate this movie, or how much I found that politician to be abusive, and in many ways I make no apologies for that.  Perhaps me choosing to see sleeping-around-with-every-possible-hot-guy as an idiotic and disgusting lifestyle rubs off the wrong way towards some people.  For certain my having no love or understanding for people who devote their lives in the pursuit of spending someone else's hard-earned cash has not won me awards in the eyes of many others.

As they say in Filipino, "Bato bato sa langit..."

I can have blog posts about how pathetic a movie remake was and have the same passionate anger towards how I overheard a certain couple is having a guest over and that guest happens to be a "FUCK YOU" to certain people... and to mock these people further, create a profile pic of them together.   When I share my opinion, I don't hide it behind a facade of friendliness or disguise it under a clearly false attempt at looking classy.  Class isn't purchased with francs, I'm afraid.  Neither is respect.

That big?

But what amuses me the most is how for some people, EVERYTHING I post is supposedly about them.  And worse, the same said people post self-affirming delusions in hopes of counter-acting my blog or status update posts.    I don't even have those people as contacts in my social networks.  I never even shared to those people my blog addresses.  But somehow, every now and then, a little bird (also known as mutual contacts I shall, for their sake, leave unnamed) whispers to me about how "Mr. Gollum got insulted by your post about him."  Or how "Mrs. Leech is really angry right now, so hope you don't bump into the bitch."   And when these little whispers reach me, I find myself many times wondering, "What?!?" because those said people aren't even part of my daily notice.  Heck, they aren't even part of my weekly notice.


But clearly, they would like to be.
And that amuses me.


I once posted out of frustration a status update about how admitting guilt is the first step to properly asking forgiveness.  Pretty general post, I felt.   My rant was directed at some political-religious issue which you may have heard of:  how the Church admitted they were hiding pedophiles, and recommending nuns that got pregnant should get abortions.  It didn't take long before another little bird came a chirping.

"Tweet tweet"   But I don't use Twitter.

"Tobie, XXX is angry.  Why don't you just let it slide?"


I shot back a message, "What? What are you talking about?"


"Let it slide.  XXX has moved on already.  You should do the same."


Once again, XXX thinks it was all about him.  And worse, got even his own friends to think I was writing about him.    Oooookay.  Someone needs to take a chill pill.  Better yet, stuff one down his throat.

Supposedly there are hordes of people who hate my guts, even if they never heard bad stuff about me from you.
So these people just happen to think I'm an asshole and they all happen to be your friends.   Suuuuuure.

Another time, I got a message from a concerned friend who decided to contact me because YYY was bemoaning how my posts ruined his day.  The friend asked me why I felt I had to say such things about YYY and how YYY was "stopping his friends" from confronting me.  I blinked my eyes a few times to confirm I wasn't dreaming, then asked the concerned friend, "YYY thinks my posts are about him?  Why the hell would I even care to make YYY part of my blog.  Do people normally keep shit in their photo albums?"  Concerned friend tried not to laugh but perhaps in a misguided attempt to be constructive suggested, "Maybe you should just think about your updates, how they might be misconstrued to be about YYY and rewrite them if need be?"


I was aghast.  I felt insulted.
I posted a status post in reply.


"I will not censor myself for the paranoia of others."


Why should I?  Why should the pathetic paranoia of someone who doesn't even matter my life dictate how I write my updates?  Why should I stop writing about how certain things like infidelity, insensitivity, selfishness, lies, self-centeredness, and many others are things I hate just because some people out there are clearly feeling guilty of such things, are getting emotionally affected by them, and somehow think their silent admission of being guilty as charged in this hierarchy of sins allows them to spin their friends around to painting me as a bad guy... when all I am doing is actually just saying what I think in general.

Don't hate me for being happy.
Take steps to get better.

Do I have to get to the point where I be more honest to get my point across?  About how some of these friends don't realize how they get badmouthed by the same person they defend?  Or how some have been explained away as having "mental issues" as a reason they aren't voicing out any complaints about certain lifestyles?  If my posts and updates were seeking to accomplish dirt-digging blind items, by God I have many I can choose to say.  But again, that's would have been assuming those people mattered at all.   I don't care if others choose to live their lives in their perfectly woven web of lies, spinning their own friends around with layers of well-constructed manipulations to get what they want.  That their life.

You don't want me to blog about you.  

But no, no one gets to tell me I cannot voice out how disgusted I am of that kind of a lifestyle.  Just as no one gets to tell another person that he has no right hating rap music.  Or that you cannot say in your own blog how much you think Twilight was stupid and seems to promote an unhealthy lifestyle.  No one gets to tell me to censor myself just because the things I hate happen to be the lifestyle he or she proudly leads.   Anyone can freely have their own opinions about the same things.  They can love being the kabit for all I care.  They can celebrate having cash cows they can habitually milk cash out from.  They can even have a fireworks filled fucking parade for all I care to commemorate stabbing your friends in the back and sleeping with people they cared about.  That's your life.  If you're happy living in that kind of shit, then good for you.  It is the happiness YOU deserve.


You don't get to ask me to shut up for being in such a better place.

No need to say it.

I was tempted to end this blog with the song from Lady Carly.  But I decided that there was no need.
I already know you do.   You know who you are, reading this blog and already making more buzzing about how I've "once again" blogged about you.   


And the most amusing thing?  You aren't alone.  There's at least two of you who somehow live in this delusion that my blog posts are about "you specifically" and yet there's at least two of you who make that claim.


I hope you all realize someday how sad that is.

When the Stereotypes Take Over

While I admit I found this video introspectively amusing, I can only take so much jokes in this manner.  I still feel that sometimes people just need to wake up and see past the stereotypes and misconceptions of what makes us all unique and yet similar to each other.  Steve Hughes is great though in reminding us that gay or straight, the stereotypes are what we tend to think of rather than the truth.



Gay, Straight, Bisexual, ultimately it doesn't matter who we love or choose to sleep with.
What matter more are our morals.  Our values.  Our character.

When people ask me if I am sure about being in a gay relationship (which I guess is in reference to my being bisexual:  The option to have a relationship with a woman is "always" there.) I find myself struggling not to find insult in the question.  Why find insult?  Because for me, it feels tantamount to being told, "Are you sure there's a point in being in your relationship?"  The general view of most people (and sadly this also includes many non-straights as well) is that homosexual relationships rarely have the fortitude to last long.  Reasons range from stupid ("Because they are immoral and unnatural.  How can you expect it to last long?") to selfish ("Because there are so many cocks to try, why limit yourself?") to downright sad ("Because they just don't.  No law to compel them to last.  No children to trap you together.")

Imagine how much better their lives would have been had they just admitted what they felt
and embraced that love, ignoring all the fear, expectations and hate of others.

But people, really now.   Open your eyes.  A relationship and its strength and fortitude are based not on such pathetic excuses and over-generalized opinions.  The power of two people loving each other is limited only by the willingness of the two to make things last.   If you really feel that the only reason you haven't left your partner/husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend is because of a law, a social expectation, a child, a religious ruling) then frankly, you aren't really in a relationship. You are in a trap.

Find the person who makes you feel that you are who you are because you were meant to be who you are.  Find the person who embraces you and loves you and tells you how you make his life just as meaningful and loved.    Find the person who expects from you no less than what he gives you.  The person who is willing to share his life with you, and lovingly allows you to be part of his.

You deserve to be loved.
You will find someone who deserves you too.

True love means no one has to stay home alone.

Cause think about it:  Money runs out.  Laws change.  Beauty fades.   Even skill can eventually be lost.
But if you find that person who truly honestly fully loves you, none of those will matter.

I hope you find the courage to do what you must.
And the joy of finding who you are meant to be with.

My Piss Story

A few days ago, I was forced to stay and work much later than usual.  Anticipating it was going to be horrible, I decided to fill a water bottle with some water and a dash of Extra Joss in order to have easy access to a caffeinated drink when I needed a good kick.   True enough, I was stuck in traffic for almost two hours before I finally got home and one could imagine how miserable I felt.

Extra Joss + water in a used water bottle

Things only got worse when I boarded the elevator and moved to one corner to wait in silence for the darned thing to finally reach my floor.  People started coming and and most were giving me strange looks as I held my water bottle and pondered on what was eating them.

The corner

When the ride got even further delayed by some guy who was yelling at us to hold the door, I decided to stay quiet and just seethe in silence.  After all, I easily imagined how everyone else was earlier stuck in traffic like me and were dying to just get home.  I know I was in a rush.  I still had to wake my partner for work and prep something for breakfast/dinner.  I was fidgeting in my corner and wasn't aware of how uncomfortable I probably looked.

Re-enactment:  Clearly I did not look this amused when it happened.

When the elevator stopped two floors away from me, I decided to take a swag to pass the time.  To my surprise, one kid suddenly gasped out and declared, "Mommy yucky!"  And I immediately slid my hand over my face, neck, and shirt to see if I had spilled on myself or had some bug or something on me.  The woman shook her head, told her son, "No..." but then had a double-take and looked at what I had in my hand again.

I guess I WAS holding it this way too.

And that's when it hit me.

They thought that I was stuck in traffic like them and for some reason did this:

Disclaimer:  Not me.  If it was, I'd need a bigger bottle with a wider mouth.

 And for some reason, decided to drink it back in.

Oh poor me.
I still can only wonder why they even thought I would go drink my own pee in the first place.

I mean, come on, 

do I really look like someone who enjoys watersports?

They make a rainbow... where did you think them NIPS came from?

Are you REALLY worth it?

An interesting question was raised to me earlier while I was at my favorite haunt regarding relationships.   I showed up to hang with my friends when out of the blue, someone who I have only begun to know as a friend threw me an interesting query:

How does one know when someone is worth it?

It seemed like a strange thing to ask, given we were at O bar enjoying our drinks while dancing to Kylie, Duffy and other wonderful singers.  The mood, though muddled a bit by a pair of horrendous monkeys who were practically dry humping on the stage, was far from serious and the drinks were still in their infancy.  I considered the fact that it may have been a question that had been nagging the said person's mind and he may have opted to ask me for my opinion given he knew me to be both old and much more introspective about things.

I repeated the question aloud and thought about it for a moment.  After all, the question had much more weight than one would expect.  Is a person's "worth", for example, something that another person has the right to determine?  Would factors such as occupation, personal wealth, good breeding, eloquence of speech and courage to come out be valid standards to forge the proper measure of a gay man?  Would judging another based on such color one as being materialistic?  Or a bigot?  Or even elitist?

We've all found ourselves at one point or another questioning our
own self-worth because of how another abused our trust and love.

Deciding it was best to get a better picture of why the question was asked, I prodded for more information and soon it became clear based on his answers why the question came to mind.  In brief, the guy had sacrificed numerous things for the other, thinking the other guy was a sure candidate for a long-term relationship, only to be rebuffed with a statement about not "wanting to be tied down" and then countered with accusations of flirting around with others and the like.   While I decided to tip-toe away from the dangerous quest of knowing whether the accusations or complaints were valid, I realized the specifics of why he asked the question were irrelevant to how I ultimately would answer the question.   And my answer was this:

The question of whether a person one likes is worth the effort or not is a question only the person involved can honestly answer.  

While other people may have opinions, informed or not, about the other, the person involved remains the sole holder of the right to decide if the other is worth his time.

Take for instance a couple where one is a wealthy, well-connected man of high profile status.  The man may be raking in thousands per week, driving the best car money can buy, and practically be a celebrity in his field of practice.  Some (and most of the time these would be parents or titos and titas) would say such a person is a great catch! That someone who is that successful is worth it, no matter how he is as a person.  For some, such a person can even be a habitual liar who sleeps around with total strangers, or a manipulative bastard who brainwashes his friends to like him by bribing them with gallant displays of generosity.  The idea that he's successful is worth those "tiny" problems.

On the other hand, imagine if one of the people in the couple happens to be a man who proclaims himself some kind of modern day hippie, despising work and relishing on spending his days doing practically nothing under the guise of searching for artistic perfection.  The lazy slob might automatically be deemed as worthless by others who think the fact he doesn't earn his keep makes him less of a man.  

But sometimes, such a strange mix can still work.  Sometimes, the unfaithful bastard in the first example might simply have psychological issues that the other understands and accepts.   Or sometimes, the sloth in the second example might truly be fantastically creative when the moment hits him and his partner embraces that probability and waits with him for that moment.

It takes two.  Two people who sleep around freely in a real open-relationship would work.
But one doing so, while the other has no idea or is kept from doing the same... that's doomed to fail.

Are these relationships doomed to fail?  Are they bound to work?

Maybe.  The only ones who can really answer that are those involved, if you ask me.  Yes, maybe they can be abusive.  Maybe they can be unfair.  But if the people involved ultimately are happy, then they deserve that happiness, as twisted and inappropriate as others might deem it.  Hey, come on, think about it.  We are gay.   We are in same-sex relationships.  A majority of the people of the world already deem us immorally inappropriate and biologically wrong.  

Does that make the relationship worth it, though?  Does that make it worth the pain?  The anguish?  The self-doubt?

Maybe.

Be honest.  

But while ideals are far from typical, I personally believe that one should always strive to at least reach for them.  And in a relationship, the ideals I uphold are those of Trust, Sensitivity, Patience and Responsibility.

In a relationship that is worth it, I believe both couples strive to maintain an ever present existence of trust with one another.  Trust after all, once broken, can take quite much more time than expected to heal.  And worse, many mistake a "bahala attitude" as trust.    Sensitivity, on the other hand, when present already reduces the presence of infidelity, selfishness and shallowness.  When one learns to hold one's partner's feelings in mind, one remains conscious of things that may strain the other's trust and patience.  A sensitive person would never hit on someone else, because that person knows such an act can be painful to the other.  A sensitive person would never claim to be okay with something, then complain about it once the other actually does it.  Patience is the glue that strengthens the three.  When one is patient in a relationship, one embraces the fact that no matter how close and wonderful two are together, one accepts the truth that they are still two different people.  And two different people may have differences in opinions, interests, or taste.   One learns to respect the needs of another, but, guided by sensitivity and empowered by trust, knows that such time will not be abused to the point it leaves the other feeling dejected or unwanted.   And lastly, Responsibility.  Knowing what resources exist in the relationship, from the material (cash) to the immaterial (time) and understanding that one has to treat such things with a much more mature perspective.  Many who simply "do what they want since no one is complaining" fail to realize how irresponsible they are.  Such people try to throw the blame on the other for not "telling them to stop" as if they were not given the brains to realize how abusive they are getting.

(I posted about this here too, for those who haven't read it.)

And with those said, we return to the question:

How does one know when someone is worth it?

I think ultimately we all can try to assume someone is for an unspecified period of time.  When we find someone we like, or feel we have a connection to, we decide, "Yes this person is worth it" for a period of time.  Ironically, this period of time tends to be the time we are merely getting to know someone more.  During this period, we cancel plans to make time for the other.  Or cancel purchases to treat the other out somewhere we like.  Many make the mistake of putting their best "show" forward, rather than being themselves, thinking it would be better to "win someone over" by showing them an "ideal" rather than to let someone get to know them as them and face the consequences.    But I personally don't think there's anything wrong with assuming someone is worth it this early.

In fact, I think ultimately, we never know for absolute certain if someone is worth it.  We can only assume.  Or rather, to be more accurate, we can believe the other is.

When we find someone we feel is worth it, we make a leap of faith.  We trust in something that doesn't exist.  We give that someone a chance to show us otherwise.  And sometimes it works.  Sometimes it doesn't.  Sometimes, we give more chances.  Sometimes, we give up.  Too soon.   Too late.

But we believe.

And that is a belief no one can tell us is wrong.  Because as individuals we have the right to make such decisions.   What we should never do, however, is blame the other for choosing to believe.    (We can always, however, curse them for lying if they do.)  And if we find someone who deserves us, it won't be hard to see how they too took that chance and believed in us.

And reached for the same ideals you had.

Leaping ain't too hard if you know you're both doing it for each other.

There is no harm in loving.  No harm in caring.  No harm in believing.
But if that trust is shattered, that sensitivity is trampled on, that patience is broken, and that sense of responsibility is abused, I only hope that you realize these things and remember:  You deserve better.

And someone out there, deserves you too.

The Battle for Bisexuality

I hate the fact that many don't understand the real meaning of being bisexual.  Or at least many here in the Philippines intentionally misuse the term for their own purposes.  For those who don't know what I mean, allow me this chance to explain.  Bisexuality is more than just a gay guy who happens to have dated a woman in the past.  Bisexuality is also more than just a gay guy who happens to act masculine.  Bisexuality is definitely more than just a guy who is confused or in denial and is too afraid to embrace the term gay.

But sadly, and I speak about the gay circles in the Philippines, those misconceptions are more often than not believed to be truths.  I have met people who insist that they are bisexual because many years back they actually dated a woman at one point in time.  There have been encounters with groups that call themselves bisexual groups, a definition that they mis-appropriately believe applies to them simply because they avoid all the visible cosmetic, stylistic and audible cues that categorize a person as homosexual.  And sad but true, there have been those whom I have met who are quite frankly gayer than a rainbow unicorn in heels who insist with a straight face that they are bisexual and don't understand why people assume they are gay.

And born from the corruption of the term is the blanket injustice of many claiming bisexuality does not exist.  The term bisexual has been wrongly equated by many to be the clearest sign of a person being homophobic of oneself and afraid of simply embracing the g word.

I am more than just infidelity, damn it.

Even worse, in the Philippines, the closest local term to refer to a bisexual is silahis, which actually translates to "a married guy who sleeps with men."  So rather than just in denial, bisexual is horribly defined as "a specific form of infidelity."   Ugh.

But no matter how many choose to exploit the term bisexual, its true meaning deserves to be understood, accepted and embraced.

I am a bisexual.
And I remain proud to be one.
I have always been one.  And I will always be one.
I am not in a phase.  I am not in denial.
And I am damned sure I am not the only one.

Our three official symbols.

Why do I say I am one?  It isn't because of the fact I don't like wearing cosmetics or women's clothing.  It has nothing to do with the fact that I have no illusions of seeing myself as a woman trapped in a man's body.  It is not because most people would have trouble accepting the fact that I am not straight, even if my manner of moving, the intonations of my speech, or my choice of clothing would support the idea that I am a guy, and a geeky guy at that. It does somewhat stem from the fact I have had girlfriends in the past (including one I already had dreams of getting engaged with at one point in time) but that's just part of the reason.  And it definitely is not because I am afraid of being identified or called gay.  I have come out to my parents and to the world.  I am proud and out in my many blogs, on my facebook account, and in each day of my life.  In fact, I embrace the term "gay" since the term does officially encapsulate anything that is not straight.

What makes me clearly identify myself as bisexual is knowledge that in all the times that I have fallen in love with someone, and by love I mean felt an emotional connection with another person that includes sexual attraction, intellectual stimulation and an emotional bond, it never mattered to me if that person was a man or a woman.  The other person's gender was never a factor.

"Impossible!"  some would declare, "To fall in love with another, regardless if that person had a dick or a pussy?  How is that possible even?"

But that's just how it really is for me.  In my life, I've learned that my reciprocity of another person's passions was lot hindered by a person's sex.  I have found myself completely engaged in women just as much as in men, with only the individual's personality being a key factor if I were to try to decide who do I like more.

I have heard of what most naysayers proclaim:  Surely, there is one I lean more towards.  Surely, if I perfer men more, I should be gay and not bisexual.  Or gay but in denial.    But what does it mean if I prefer women more?  Am I straight but pretending?

Ultimately, however, with my own experiences as evidence, I have come to understand my bisexuality as being able to love another person regardless of the person's sex.   And if given a choice between a man and a woman, my answer would be:  Well I'd choose whoever between the two I did love more.

"But what if you loved them equally?  Absolutely equally in all accounts?  Who would you choose?"

In all honesty, if such an unlikely scenario occurred, my answer would be, "Both."

A few weeks back, I got into an argument while chatting with one of my gay friends.  We were discussing about the strange need of people to define everything when out of the blue, my friend declared, "What I hate the most is the term bisexual.  It doesn't exist.  No one can ever really love a man or a woman.  Everyone who ever claimed to be bisexual is actually simply someone in denial about his being gay."

Had I never had my Jedi training, my friend would have felt me reach through the internet connection, wrap the projected tendrils of force around his neck, then pull him closer to smash his face against the screen. Not exist?  I don't exist!?!  I sarcastically reminded him that he was talking to a non-existent being, and rather than realize he had touched a nerve, the guy simply continued, "Not anymore right?  I mean, you are seeing a guy now.  So you've accepted you're gay."

Maybe you're all bisexuals in denial.

EXCUSE ME?  Get it in your head, boy.  Who I am dating does not define my gender.  Who I sleep with does not define my sexuality.  If that were true, then prisons are homosexual factories, considering how many men end up getting banged in the ass in there.  But clearly, the act is not the same as the identity of a person.  Not every gay guy who gets drunk and ends up messing around with a girl is bisexual.  They're just drunk and horny.  And likely a tad curious.  But bisexual?  Please.

If all it took was an act, then being gay is just an alternate form of rape.
Clearly, that's not the case.

After all these years of harping the need for the world to accept and recognize that homosexual men and women exist, I find it terribly sad that the same group would be so clearly willing to do the same thing that they have long marched and chanted and pushed against: Discrimination.  Being gay has been equated as a disease, as a phase, as a form of insanity... and for years there has been a push to understand it more as either  a choice, or either as a card that life hands you regardless of what you wanted.    Why can't the same thing be seen to apply to being bisexual?  Or even being heterosexual?

Equality for all.
That includes bisexuals, you know.

Has the need to find acceptance been confused with wanting to blanketly call the world gay and just in denial?
And do we bisexuals need to have our own stonewall incident happen before we too are no longer discriminated by our fellow non-straight friends?

I am bisexual.

And I am loyal to my partner.  Just because I find men and women attractive doesn't mean I am unable to keep myself aware of my own decisions.  Infidelity is not the defining trait of one's gender.  So why should bisexuality be confused as such.

Here's hoping within my lifetime a greater and more intelligence acceptance of bisexuality happens.
Like every one else, after all, we only want to be recognized and accepted as equals.

The Cock or the Egg?

In my relationship with my partner, each and every single day has its own mushy moment.  In Filipino, we refer to such moments as our personal "baduy" moments.  It might be something like me sneaking a stuffed toy duck into my partner's packed lunch bag for the day, or him waking me up (with a little something-something) then surprising me with a magazine featuring some celebrity I like on the cover, or him coming home to find a bunch roses on the table waiting for him, and so on and so forth.  To a large extent, this ever present willingness to make each and every single day as romantically special as the first few days when we had just met seems to stem greatly from the fact that when we did meet, sex was not the first item on our agenda.

Spit or Swallow?  Why not just Cuddle?

My partner and I met because we were both happy to have found a fellow geek who was interested in something the other was.  In our case, it was a long discontinued collectible card game called Netrunner.  For him, the game was something longed to play but never really got the chance to do so.  For me, it was a game I truly enjoyed which I had long left untouched ever since my gaming group had started to move onto other games.   The moment we both realized we shared an existing frustration for the game, we realized it was by meeting up that we could finally put that frustration to rest.

NetRunner.  God it opened all these geek flirtations.
"Are you making a run?"  "No, I'm jacking off." "What??!"  "OUT! Out! Jacking out!" *blushes*

While there may have been a healthy heaping of witty banter and flirtatious comebacks, our early days of getting to know one another revolved more around sharing more of what we loved rather than indulging on the  act of making love.  Webcam sessions were for us to watch episodes of Battlestar Galactica in synch rather than randy attempts to cum on cue.  Late night trysts were more to share dinner at some fast food place or restaurant rather than escape away to the noise-resistant confines of some motel room.

Simply put, for us sex was not the initial spark that began to burn into a passionate fire.
Or to use my title's analogy, the (creative geeky) egg came before the cock.

I personally still thick the Egg came first.  Dinosaur eggs that is.

Many other gay couples I know met their partners first as someone they were grinding against on the dance  floor.   Others found what they call love from a fellow lonely stranger who offered a smile and a good opening line.   Such  meetings are no different from how I met my partner:  They were meetings which may or may not have happened had certain things happened differently.  They were meetings that finally came to pass because at least one of the two decided to take that chance, reach out, and say hello.

But sadly, a larger number of these chance encounters for some reason choose the bed as the stage where the decision of making someone a partner is made.   For some reason, regardless of the other person's physical, social or mental traits, it seems his performance in bed (and for others, which I think is even sadder, the other man's cock size) becomes the final test which will determine if the person is worth considering relationship material.    One friend once explained this to me in this manner, "If he can't make me cry out his name, then I'm gonna wave goodbye and find someone who can."

Gotta admit, one can always try more creative positions if one does choose to do it.

The Cock came before the Egg.

I used to share that mindset when I was still in college.

Back in those years, young as I was to the world and its sensual affairs (my sexual encounters prior to becoming a college freshman were far less than the number of fingers you have as a human being) and each time I thought I met someone interesting, I saw nothing wrong with expecting a good humping as a key factor in deciding if someone was worth my time.  For some reason I assumed it would be harder for someone to learn to make love better than it was for someone to be smarter.  Or be more in tune with my way of thinking.  Or be more capable of making me laugh without really trying.

See, I love Star Trek now!  :-)

I felt sex was something that on the first try had to be perfect.  

It was that damned Hollywood illusion that if someone was meant for you, plug should perfectly fit socket and the sound of slapping meat should lead to orgasmic tsunamis erupting in unison.   Maybe it was just because it was the 90s back then, but I could not recall much movies where two people having sex would have elbows bumping into faces or insertions leading to bloody painful wails.  I couldn't see why someone meant for me would have trouble swallowing or would fail to get it up on the first go.   My demands for a partner included that he (or she) perform on cue, hard (or wet) when I needed it, without any need for artificial lubrication or second attempts.

There are benefits to being Bisexual.   Yep.

Hell, I was a damn hot guy whose friends nicknamed a Sexpert! Why should I settle for anything less than a masterful toothless blowjob that milked me with the intensity of a hentai flick?

Yep.   Talk about self deluded, eh?

You know what's worse?

Until now, some people out there still have that mindset.
And they aren't exactly still in their younger years.

Sex is still being used by so many people out there as the measuring scale of a man's viability to be a partner.  Don't get me wrong, though.  I clearly understand the important role great sex and its role in the need for physical satisfaction, I am now a firm believer however that there are things that are easier to develop than others.  And better yet, some things are far better to develop together with one's partner than alone.

Sometimes all it takes is one step at a time.

Maybe I sound naive in saying this... or maybe I'm being one of the few mature enough to say this aloud, but if one chooses to make sexual performance the biggest factor of what makes a relationship work, then one should expect never to be truly happy in their relationship since any new guy who comes along might perceivably be better in the sack.  And that, in my opinion, is a relationship doomed to fall apart.

Egg before Cock and you're sure to last longer than the typical cum shot.

I'm very happy to be in a relationship that was born from mutual interests growing into shared ones.  And I love how each and every single day is excitingly a beautiful juxtaposition of shared joy and discovery.    While I have been in many relationships before, this is definitely one which feels like there ain't gonna be a time we will ever get bored of each other.

And that, I personally feel, is a relationship that is meant to last. 

Monkeys are Invading, Oh my. Or Should I say, my O?

I was at my favorite haunt earlier at my usual reserved table when a bunch of newcomers showed up and planted themselves beside my table.  At first I was considering being congenial when I realized they were new to the bar after one of them asked a friend, "Where's the rest room in this place?"  Newbies to my favorite haunt nowadays usually meant people who used to go to the currently closed "other" bar which had shut down to do renovations due to a very "timely" fire that happened recently to the place.

Things turned south, however, when two in the group looked at me and noticed that I was sitting and enjoying some mixed sausage dish with my beer rather than scouting for man-meat or dancing.  Two of the group, perhaps wrongly thinking I had less-than-adequate hearing skills, started a conversation about me:

Monkey One:  Pare, You'd think people would go to a bar to drink and dance.
Monkey Two:  Probably cause no one is minding him.  That's what happens when you're not hot.

I had half the mind to educate the monkeys on a few facts, when it dawned upon me any attempt to illuminate them on the truth would fall on brains that were unable to comprehend higher communication.  The facts were:

1) The bar was my favorite haunt.  One that had to a great extent recognized my presence as one they enjoyed having.  While most patrons enjoy a bar just to hunt for man-meat or get drunk, I was actually one of the few who gave back to the bar my own display of gratitude by supporting it in various means, from spreading news of the place to others to generate new customers, or by informing them of any problems that arise (e.g. drunken patrons who need to be shown out, abusively rude patrons who think anyone in the bar can be molested sexually, etc)  As such, I actually am reserved a table for the nights I show up.  I am given some extra space when I am there to celebrate a birthday or other special occasion.  And more.

2) While drinking and dancing was expected of such a place, they also pride themselves in having great food. And that was a service I was indulging in gratefully.  For them to think eating there was a "wrong thing to do" was clearly a show of how inept and ignorant they are of the place.

3) I am happily in a relationship.  I had no intention of hunting for meat.  I had no desire to be the target of people hunting for meat.  In fact, I had two guys trying to eye-volleyball me whom I ignored, and one guy who hit on me in the bathroom who I turned down, gently.   I don't recall any of them actually being approached the whole night.  Oh wait, the waiter did.  I guess that *should* count.  At least he was someone who wanted "something" from them.  Bwahahah!

4) They were monkeys.  For all their pomp, they were barely attractive or noteworthy.  Heck, I only noticed them because they chose to plant themselves near me and had the gall to mouth me off.  No sass.  No style.  No breeding.  Nuff said.

So rather than make an issue out of it, I enjoyed my food and drinks and shared more laughs with my friend, and quietly smiled as the show began and their drinks, which were littering the stage area, were gathered as they were shooed away to move to some other dark corner instead.

While I am given some level of special treatment, it is a bonus that I have been given having earned it.  I am a regular of the place and in more times than one have shown that I give back to the bar in many ways.    I only hope that the place those monkeys frequent reopens soon, just so that they stop polluting places I hang out at with their clearly misguided self-delusion of self-importance.

Monkeys, be warned.
I bark back when pushed.
Don't wait for the point I bite.