The Knight's Tale I: The End of A Dream

The Count was walking to and fro. To and fro. He had already created a few feet of severely flattened grass where he was pacing. His eyebrows were knotted. His fists were balled hard. Something seemed wrong. And nature was, once again, mocking him with its cheerfulness.

He looked up and saw that the sky was still bright even though dusk was approaching, and the red sunlight filtering through the forest canopy was pleasing to the eye. But there was nothing right in the world anymore. Nothing right. The hunter... His hunter... is dead.

He killed him. He had no choice. He was to revive him but things went wrong. Horribly wrong. And so the hunter died, in his arms. The one he loved, he killed. Those who love him, killed. Those associating themselves with him always get killed.

A cursed life not worth living. So he killed himself. Jumped off the cliff where he buried the hunter. But, somehow, with a cruel twist of fate, he lived through the fall. Whether he transformed into a crow at the last minute, or whether something else saved him, he didn't know. Only that he opened his eyes not to welcome the eternal darkness of death but to see the mild glow of fireflies playing on his face.

Why wasn't he allowed to die? Why did he have to suffer more? Why can't he just take the coward's exit and simply run away from it all? Why?

It has been three months since the fall.

Now everyone he saw around the corner of his eye was the hunter. Every turned back. Every sound of running footsteps was the hunter coming back to meet him. Be with him. Every sigh came out from the lips of his hunter.

He kept seeing the hunter in other men's eyes. Kept seeing them in other's hands, other's faces. He kept seeing him everywhere because deep in his heart, he was hoping that the hunter was still alive. Deep in his heart, he was hoping that the magic which was supposed to bring him back did work, even if it came too late. But if that was so, it would have been a more horrible fate for him and the hunter both - the person he loved the most, buried alive by his own hands.

It has been three months now. And he had already convinced himself before that, perhaps, this chance of a new life meant something. That perhaps, he wasn't supposed to die just yet. That there were more things which would happen to him. And if that was so, what was the use of carrying on with something which will only make him weaker? What was the use of remembrance? What was the use of hopes and dreams when they would only bring him down?

He knew and understood all this, and he did just what was right for him - to let go.

Just three months.

And suddenly, the answer hit him - what was wrong with the day. What was wrong with the sky, the forest, everything. He closed his eyes.

That the time for the truth has come. That the hunter is gone. That there's really no coming back.

That all his dreams of him being with the hunter - the hope that has sustained him for years was all for nothing now. That all the emotions he has spent for the hunter - they had nothing to go to now. The one he threw his heart at, its unwilling recipient, is dead.

So he had no choice but to make the hunter leave his heart for good. Pushed out of his mind. Eradicated completely. Every small thing. Every memory burned. For the good.

Three months gone, and now he was feeling something else. The hunter's leaving had left him with a vague sense of emptiness. Will that place in his heart ever be replaced?

Tears fell heedlessly.

"Is it really over?" he asked.

***

The man hiding behind a tree shifted his weight, making a branch snap with a faint crack. His eyes darted to the Count, alert in case of discovery. But the Count was absorbed with something else. He was standing still, staring at the sky. He was looking at nothing, yet tears were falling silently down his face.

The man behind the tree wondered about what he was thinking. He wondered about such displays of emotion. But there were more important things at hand... Matters of the heart were not of interest to him anyway. Not very much.

He raised his right hand, producing fireflies out of thin air, creating a soft glow in the slowly creeping twilight. With a gesture of his hand, the fireflies flew as one towards the Count, and still the Count didn't notice. They illuminated the Count's face, making him look softer and more vulnerable.

A shadow of a smile appeared on the wizard's own face, but it was soon gone, replaced by an intent look of purpose.

The Count opened his eyes.

Where the World Can See

It's weird being a "writer"... Like we're all hollering out to our readers. Like we're all clamoring for your attention... It's like

"Read me..."

"Try me..."

"Listen to me..."

"Feel me..."

"Hey..."

"Stay..."

I think that when you write, you can't help but expose something about yourself. I'm an avid blogger (I haven't met anyone more addicted than me), and I'm also an avid blog reader, and I know about these things (I don't need to be a CW major to learn about these). When my friends write about their stories - the topics they choose, their tone, how they look at things - those reflect their personality, and by reading their entries, I am, in a way, immersed into their own characters (unless they are professional writers but I'm talking about blogs here). Being placed into their own shoes for a while. I get to know them in another level - perhaps in ways they are not even aware of. I get to discover their secret feelings and intentions.

Just the fact that they have a blog for instance, or when they start a blog but can't maintain it - these things already say something about themselves. For example, this blogger always talks about this guy, even abusing him through words. But what does it really say about her? It means she's in love with him. This blogger always talks about serious stuff. What does it say about him? He wants to be praised and to be considered an intellectual. This blogger always raves about his sex life. What does it say about him? (I might be wrong though.)

It's risky being a writer, because when you are exposed, you become vulnerable. This leads me to the question - why do we need to put up walls? Why can't we just show who we are? Why are we afraid when people get to know too much about ourselves?

Because when they find out about our secrets, they can use them to hurt us?

Why can't we trust our readers?

I used to be a man with many secrets. As I grew up, I learned that there was nothing wrong with sharing. Nothing wrong with asking help from your friends. But looking at who I am now, have I overdone it? With the contents of this blog, you can even call me an open book and I won't disagree. I've placed my heart where the world can see.

But there's a reason, reader, why I am doing this. There's a reason why I chose to talk about this. But I won't tell. I will never tell anyone. Not a soul.

There are secrets I will take with me to my grave. Not because I want to, but because I just can't.

Tag-Ulan

Kapag tag-ulan, parang may pakiramdam kang mag-emote. May kakaiba ka kasing feeling. Malamig. Tapos parang nahahaluan ng pagka-gray ang paligid mo. Araw man o gabi, may dalang charm sa akin ang ulan. Parang ang lungkot. Ang emo. Kakaiba.

Minsan, iniisip kong maglakad sa ulan nang walang payong at nakikinig sa music. Pero parang ang hirap gawin. Bukod sa magmumukha kang weird, masisira pa yung player mo. Sana may private open place ako na may malapit na malakas na player para makapag-emote nang may music. Astig. Dapat magawa ko yun bago mamatay.

Naisip ko lang kung gaano kalakas ang impluwensya ng mga tao sa paligid natin. Kagaya nga nun, gusto ko sana maglakad sa ulan. Kaso mapapansin ako ng mga tao kaya tuloy, masisira ang pag-eemote ko. Titingin sila sa akin. Magtataka. Maguguluhan. Magiging concerned sa katinuan ko. Bakit ba kailangang mag-payong ang lahat ng tao? Minsan, gusto mo lang talagang mabasa nang ulan at mag-emote.

Siyempre, hindi lang ganun ka-simpleng gawin ang paglalakad sa ulan. Dapat feel mo talagang gawin yun. At mas magandang hindi siya planado dahil mawawala ang moment mo. Yun nga ang isang magandang bagay dun - hindi mo kasi malalaman kung kailan uulan. Feel mo nga mag-emote eh kung hindi naman umuulan... Umuulan nga eh di mo naman feel mag-emote... Kakaiba.

Marami akong naaalala kapag umuulan. Mga bagay na dapat kalimutan. Mga bagay na nangyari at bumago sa aking buhay. Minsan, gusto mo na lang tumingala sa langit habang lumuluha ka. Para hindi mapansin ng mga tao na umiiyak ka nga. Surreal siguro ang pakiramdam nun, magkahalong luha at ulan. Na parang ikaw din ang langit at ang mga luha mo ay ang mga patak ng ulan. Na parang nakikiramay ang mga ulap sa iyo.

Ang weird lang minsan.

Tapos kapag tapos na yung ulan, may literal na washed out feeling ang mga kapaligiran. Parang malinis ulit. Fresh. Pati yung pakiramdam mo maaliwalas na ulit. Parang kapag umiyak ka na, magaan na ulit yung feeling mo. Kakaiba.

Pero ang sigurado ako, natatapos din ang ulan. Kahit anong ulan pa iyan... Matatapos din. Pana-panahon. Panahon mag-emote. Panahon para magsaya.

In fairness, pwede ka nga din palang mag-"dancing in the rain".

Vulnerable

"Hug"

"Ewan ko"

I put my fone down and frowned.

I remembered how I was always the one to start our conversations - that you wouldn't text me until I texted you first. I remembered how I was always the one to keep it going - that without me putting in topics, the conversation will inevitably fall apart because of your monosyllabic replies.

I remembered that, even if I have a new fone now, you never seemed to greet me one single "good morning" or "hello" or "hi i miss you" without me texting you first.

I remembered our role-playing games or when we're talking about other make-believe stuff, and how, most of the time, you'll give up because you'll say that you can't think of anything else to say. And how you saying that will often cause something inside me to flare up because it has always been that way ever since and I was frustrated why, for once, you can't try and think a little bit harder of what next to say.

I remembered how you used to make me wait. That you didn't seem to care how much time I've spent doing nothing but wait, and that when you did come, you'd be off with me in a hurry, and I wouldn't blame you because for me, it was immediately okay just seeing you finally there, but still in the back of my mind, there's the thought that you did take your time knowing that I was waiting...

And I remembered how I had to really talk to you, how I wanted to make you understand before you can say "I love you" to me personally for the first time...

And I also remembered how I had to really convince you to spend some time with me in that place, and how you used to say no without explaining why. That you will say no despite how I'm pleading with you, and still you won't tell me reasons except that you don't want to. Just that. And how you'll always think about it as just sex, and you never seem to get the concept that it's making love and that it's not a bad thing.

I remembered the many times I've shouted our love to the world - with my yucky friendster picture saying "I love my baby", with my endless blogs and music albums, and I wondered why I never had a single "love blog" from you although you've written me some really painful "hate blogs". I wondered how come you can't do those things to me.

And I remembered how you've never read "The Count's Tale" and I knew that it was a small thing actually but that it would have pleased me much if you took the time to at least read the story I wrote especially now when you're spending more time on the internet at home. I thought that maybe you would remember because I was really proud of that, but then you didn't because it was too lengthy and it will be a hassle to look it up since I've written it a long time ago.

And I remembered how you walked away from me this afternoon. How surprised I was running after you when all I said was let's hurry up because I have a class. How I still followed you and you never looked back at me and how you never apologized for that.

So many things I can remember when we're like this. So many bad feelings coming out that it's easy to forget the most essential thing.

I forgot that you love me.

Day of Days

I don't give a fucking crap if I'm typing this blog while I'm raving drunk. I just have to record this whole special day right now ya know what I mean?

Ya see I'm not really raving drunk if I can still start my sentences with the proper caps ya know what I mean? Because ya see here in Friendster, when you type your entries you have to press the shift caps lock key for you to start your sentences grammatically correct. Hell, I must be raving drunk if I still talk about this nonsense shit.

Hell whatever.

I'm listening to "Cool" right now. And you're a fucking idiot if you don't the hell know who sang this fucking good song. It's from my favorite singer Gwen Stefani. And hell to ya if ya don't know who she is. You must be living under this so-called rock like what they say in stories ya know.

It's because a while ago I was just drinking with my wondeful ex-girlfriend Rhay and I'm telling ya, she's the best friend you've ever had ya know what I mean? It's like I've totally treated her like crazy (with all the fuckingly senseless thing I've felt for that guy Don Perlez may he go to hell) when she was with me and she's still here ya know what I mean? She still agreed to talk with me tonight though I bet most ex-girlfriends wouldn't give a fucking crap to their ex-boyfriends who treated like them hell.

Today is just one of my best days ever I didn't even go to my MS class this afternoon just because I was enjoying myself so fucking much ya kow what I mean? I've told my baby this was one of the best days I've ever had and what a fuckingly good way to end it with a blog entry eh? I just have to record something about this day ya know?

A while ago I was walking drunk on the streets alone, and I almost lost my way back after taking Rhay home and that has never ever happened to me before ya know what I mean? My legs kept crossing themselves like I was some kind of a ramp model or something while I was walking on the dangerously shirtless guys-infested dog-pooed streets of KNL on my way here to this computer shop or whatever you call this some kind of crap. And hell to ya if you think I'm raving drunk if  that's what you're thinking since my fingers keep missing the right keys on this blasted keyboard I have to edit my words every so often. I'm still sober enough to do that at least.

And ya know, a while ago, while I was talking to Rhay, I remembered all the craziness we've done. How everything was so perfect then and I have to ruin because of my so-called incompleteness. Exploring the male world. The homosexual world, and it could have been perfect ya know - Me and her forever but it wasn't meant to be ya know what I mean? I'm this fucking guy who has this identity issues I had to take care of first.

Anyway, this morning I met with my baby and we watched Order of the Phoenix together as I promised him. We watched it in Robinson's Pioneer, the nearest mall to his place and I've never been to that mall but I didn't feel strange because I was with my baby anyway. And we had lunch in KFC. An early lunch then we watched the movie and we were so early we were the first to enter, and we made believe that it was a private movie house before all the other crappy people came in inside as well.

After the movie, we went straight to this so-called hotel and I'm too drunk to even be modest about stuff like that because ya know we're people too even if we're homo's ya know what I mean? We deserve some quality time too ya know? Love is all ya know?

And when we're there and when we really did it ya know? It's because we're having some difficulty because of our BIG problems ya know what I mean? We're so BIG we have difficulty doing it and I'm not just making that up? I'm just being honest and all, and when we finally were able to do it, it was a really nice feeling for me because finally I was able to do it right after all this years ya know what I mean?

And then I decided not to go to class because I will be late anyway, we went to Megamall instead and we had this grand time together just walking around the mall having dinner and all ya know? I was with my baby and it didn't matter a fucking crap whether I flunked my MS class because I was with someone I love and I KNOW that that's what really matters in real life anyway. Love and all.

Then we said goodbye, and I went home feeling a bit cranky ya know what I mean after doing the crazy stuff we've done. I felt my insides were a bit dislodged ya know. And then I was alone in that fucking crap of dormitories Kamagong where I have absolutely noone to talk to since my roommates were both on the creepily quiet side, my laway is napapanis there. So I had this crazy idea that maybe I can go invite Rhay to an inuman since she lives the nearest to that fucking dorm Kamagong, and finally she agreed. I was really grateful and I didn't forget to thank her for the company ya know. I'm a real nice kid really.

And I was really grateful also for the chance that we can finally talk again like we used to. It's like after we had our own boyfriends, we sort of drifted apart and I still miss her ya know. You can't just forget someone as close as she was to me. So we talked, and we talked about sex lives and all, and deep inside I was real glad because we're indeed COOL ya know what I mean?

And I took her home, as I've said, and we had to go a different way because the gate was closed and it was real fun, talking to her again, though not as much as we used to. It was still an experience, whatever ya call it.

And I remember talking to my baby earlier that, perhaps, when we get married (It's so fucking dangerous to think about these things since you never know what will happen in the fucking future), when we live in the same house, how grand it will be to spend my time forever with the GUY I love now. How one day feels so nice and all and I can't imagine spending all my time FOREVER with this special someone I have right now.

Hell. I'm  not that drunk anymore just a little queasy and I'm just glad I was ble to record this memorable day where I experienced how it is to LIVE ya know. I live. I love. I experience these things and I'm just so fucking glad I'm alive that's all. Still alive.

Aldasiel's Army

One of the things I thought I have lost this past couple of years was my obsession for Harry Potter. With all the crazy (and sometimes, adult) things I've done recently, I thought I have already outgrown my teenage fantasy about meeting and being the boy who lived. I thought that since I'm already 22, I'd be out of place if I still continue preaching and blabbing about Harry anywhere I go. I believed I was over that "magical" phase... For a while, I was right but

The movie proved me wrong.

In fact, a few minutes after watching the movie, I was brought back on the Hogwarts high I used to feel everyday. For a while after leaving the movie house, I imagined Lord Voldemort lurking somewhere in the mall, and when he appears, his wand pointing at me, I, in the lead, will duel with him assisted by the rest of my students who watched the movie with me. Flashes and bangs. Lightning and fire. It wasn't a crazy thought at all. It felt natural.

At times, in the movie, I can see myself in Harry. It was a strange feeling, watching him teach the DA members about defensive spells. I felt it was a representation of what I am doing with my students (Aldasiel's Army), only instead of teaching spells, I try to teach them about life and love and occasionally, sex. My lessons might not be as exciting and colorful as the spellwork in the movie, but it's what we've got and at least it's real and it has the same purpose - to help my students survive the real world.

Aside from the magic, I like the movie more because of its focus on friendship. Shaming as it is to admit, I almost cried on some parts of the movie because it touched topics close to my heart. Togetherness. Being there. Helping each other. Doing what's right. Rebellion. Friendship.

Friendship friendship...

What has happened to the shy and stoic boy I used to be? Now I'm preaching about things older people should be saying instead. Have I grown up too fast?

What, indeed, has happened to the old me?

Magic?

Whatever.

I'm too old for that stuff.

People just change.

Once (You Go Gay)

Once, I was a normal guy (or I could have passed as one).

Once, I was a normal guy. You can see me walking around the mall or the streets of KNL, holding a girl's hand. Looking happy. Feeling happy.

Once, I was a normal guy. Having what a very lucky guy should - a girlfriend who loved me with all her heart. All my life, I never thought I'd ever get a girlfriend. But there she was, despite the barriers (and barriers they really were), we've made it through. And there she was, holding my hand. With me.

We used to share this house. We used to do almost everything together. Twenty four hours a day. Seven days a week. We were together. What more can an imperfect guy like me ask for?

Completeness.

Freedom to get to know myself.

And she gave me just that. No matter how it might have hurt her.

A few months later, I had my first boyfriend. She got her new guy a few months after.

Now people ask me, what's the difference between having a relationship with a guy and with a girl?

Between kissing a guy and kissing a girl?

Do you miss her? How does it feel looking back at what you've given up?

***

Once, I was given the chance to live a normal life. I was given what I was asking for all my teenage life - to belong and live a normal life. To find a girl. To marry. To have children. To love. All my internal struggles (I thought) answered.

Once, I was given that chance.

And now, I have a boyfriend.

I exchanged a normal love for a love which has to be hidden.

I exchanged "holding hands while walking" to holding hands under the covers, the curtains closed.

I exchanged a church-approved, family-approved, society-approved, friends-approved relationship with something my boyfriend's family isn't even aware of.

I exchanged a normal life with something... less normal.

But I was right in my decision, because I did get what I was asking for.

Because a normal life isn't necessarily a heterosexual's life - it's a life without pretensions. I am free to be me. I am free of the necessary self-control I imposed upon myself while I was with her.

Because I can still marry (somewhere else), and I can still have children.

Because with my inner completeness, I can finally love with all of my heart. I've been there, done that. I know where I stand, and I stand with my boyfriend. My husband. My wife (ok lang daw sa kanya). My everything. Some people may look askance at us but I'll still stand with him. I'll stand with my decision.

And why shoudn't I? I've never been this happy before.

It's true what they say:

"Once you go gay...

You'll want to stay."