Journal Entry No. 72312

Journal Entry No. 71512

I'd like to share some songs that I've been listening to lately.

Linkin Park's new single is great, it's still their sound but updated with a bit of pop dance. Very catchy.

Crave You by Flight Facilities (feat. Giselle)* and Universe by Kids of 88. I discovered these two tracks from watching Teen Wolf, the MTV series. It is almost a complete waste of time. The plot is thin and the characters juvenile. The only consolation is getting to watch Stiles, the sidekick, be completely adorable.

Lastly here is a track from Mondo, the debut album of Electric Guest. The whole album is fantastic, like the vocals on this song.

*If you like it dirty, here is dubstep remix of Crave You: http://youtu.be/ZeaIvjoH1FY

He is our lover

The artist is a slut
His body is not his when it is on stage
It is the altar and the offering
He is wanton and it is naked and
He is naked in your face:

His neck is taut
His nipples are erect
His hair spreads in his armpits
His dick is limp against his pubes
His belly heaves with desire.

His face is not painted
He paints with his face
His eyes speak and only you know what they say
For there are no words.
The only language he knows:

The raising of the head to receive grace
The quivering of lifted fingers
The rippling of sinew beneath the shoulders
The stretching of the leg
The curving of the feet.

The artist is a slut
He pleases himself with his art,
Not you.

Journal Entry No. 52712

Jimmy 1. As a single man, I compulsively imagine myself in a relationship with almost every new guy I meet. Often it is simply an idle thought, as when I hook up with a one night stand. Sometimes, when the line blurs between fubu and friendship, the speculation is more involved. Only rarely have my musings translated to action, and only tentatively at that. I can count my closest encounters to a relationship on one hand. Which is why I know that Jimmy is special. Never have I pictured myself committed to someone as vividly as I imagine a relationship with him. I was in my house in Cebu last weeked. While doing the dishes I found myself wondering, when the time came, what the best way to tell me parents would be. Should I drop it like a bombshell, I wondered, at dinner for example, just take his hand and announce, "Ma, pa, Jimmy is my boyfriend." Or should I be more subtle, like have him around every weekend until they get it, or not. Their choice. Whichever way, the point is, I have never been more hopeful for the future. Or more unguarded with my feelings. Music: Joe Goddard feat. Valentina - Gabriel

Journal Entry No. 32412

I went home to Cebu last weekend. The hard drive in my laptop needed to be replaced. It was still under warranty so I brought it to the store where I got it. It was also the perfect opportunity to see my lola. She had been sick the past month. Last I saw her, she had no strength to eat. She just lay in her bed all day. It almost broke my heart to see her so frail. When I saw her again she was visibly better. Her eyes were bright and they crinkled as she smiled, standing in the kitchen when I walked into the house. 'Ay Andrew, you're here! I feel well because my grandson is home. I'm so happy.' I must get my cheesiness from her. We went to see her doctors the next day. Her endocrinologist was worried that she was still losing weight. The next doctor had better news. The lung infection was still down. A few more months of antibiotics and she should be in the clear. It was almost 2pm when we finished and had lunch. She had vegetable soup and rice. I couldn't help but notice how she picked at her food. She barely finished half a portion. I told her to try and finish her rice. I ate the rest of the vegetables. We dropped by the mall to have my laptop looked at. I left her in the car with my brother to watch her. Then we dropped by my office to have my measurements taken for the company uniform. By the time we got home we were beat. My lola went straight to her room to have a nap. I plopped down on the sofa and promptly dozed off. I woke up to a text from my boss. She was flaming mad about something wrong in one of my accounts. It was no biggie really, but she just loves blowing things out of proportion. I came crashing down from my high. I felt doubt and self-recrimination take hold of me. I couldn't think straight. I wanted to get out of the house. I needed to get out of my head. I told my parents I was going to meet some friends. Even though it was only 9pm I headed straight to Mango. My heart was pounding as I walked toward Doce, which was at the far end of the square. I didn't make it the first time. I turned to the right before I got to the entrance and made as if I just intended to go to the restroom, which happened to be nearby. When I got out I walked all the way back to the other side and bought a cigarette. I took a few deep puffs to steel myself as I eyed the gay bar. It was ridiculous really. This was hardly my first time here. And it wasn't like anyone cared. Finally I stopped being a pussy and walked up to the entrance. I paid for the entrance, got my stamp, and walked in. My high school friends didn't pop out of the other clubs to witness my public declaration of gayness. There was no jeering or hushed whispering or pointing of fingers. No one paid any attention. I breathed a sigh of relief (I didn't even notice I was holding my breath) and seated myself in the corner.

Journal Entry No. 12012

The odd hours find me awake at the wheel making my patient way home. The insistent vaguity inside me is still there. It does not go away with the rising of the sun. It does not go to sleep like I do. It is there when I turn the eye inside away from the Sin it has just committed.

The sin likes still beside me on the bed, smoking. Is it hot, the fire in hell, I wonder. It is hot in my hands when I cup his stubbly chin. It is prickly also.