The Angel

The first milestone I had was when I graduated in prep school. It was made more unforgettable because I sung onstage. Long before The Voice Kids  or Tawag ng Tanghalan Kids  happened, I tortured my poor classmates, their parents and guests, and my teachers with my voice. In my defense, my teachers made me do it. The succeeding milestones in my life were all that--graduations. From elementary, high school, and finally college. I say finally  because I'm glad that my formal education is over. I have no plans for further studies, except those short courses online that tap into my neglected creative side.

Did you ever wonder, he said, why we didn't become a couple? No, not really. I replied. Sometimes I do, he said. Why didn't we? I dunno. We were at different places, I guess. Really? You think? I don't know! I've never thought about it. Haha.

I saw it among the recommendations when I checked my Amazon account, a novel about a gay man remembering his life, spanning 50 years of the American gay culture. Although I've read novels with a similar premise, the book still piqued me enough to buy it. I haven't read it yet, because it just arrived today. But it made me think about my experiences. From the moment I slipped quietly and anonymously online up to this time. I've made a lot of mistakes, mostly trial and errors, in trying to get it right on how to be gay, because for the most part, I didn't know how to be one. I looked up (or down, depending on the situation) on those I've met and encountered, the way they act, move and behave; their beliefs, views, whims and even fantasies. But they were all different. There were the players and two-timers, those in committed relationships but looking for something discreetly on the side, those with terrible hangover from past loves, the i'm-really-straight-but-i...

I love how a shaft of light enters my new room to tell me it is morning. It reminds me of my old room when I was younger; how I can lie in bed and stare out the window, watch the sunrise or sunset or moonrise.  I had a view of the skies and the stars and on bad days I used to wish upon them even though I know it’s all malarkey. There’s something about being a kid that’s simple and provincial.  Whatever loneliness is washed away by stars, popsicles, and ice cream. It’s so far from that now.  I haven’t stayed or slept in that room for a very long time, not since I graduated from high school.  It has become an empty room, a storage for old, unused things.  I used to visit it when I go there, but I never stayed long enough to sleep.  Sometimes, I’d sit by the window at night and watch the people passing by below like I used to.  The view of the sky hasn’t changed much.  The stars, the ones I used to wish to, are still the same. Only I felt different...

It's been five days since I had last gone to the gym.  There were things that got in the way.  I was supposed to go yesterday, Tuesday, but instead I was out fixing a family friend's computer that has been plagued with an undetected malware.  Another time, I had to pry open a laminating machine because a paper got stuck.  There was always something that kept me from going to the gym.  Time sure has a way of adding up when you don't notice it. Today, I made sure I can go to the gym.  I knew that the day, before it even began, would be stressful enough that I need to have some form of release from things that were bugging me.  I took a swim first; I don't know how long that went, but it felt good being underwater.  Not unlike Percy Jackson who relishes the moment being underwater, able to think and block out the noise of the world above.  I did an hour of cardio after that.  I ran on the treadmill for about thirty minutes and then switch...

I skipped working out today.  I wasn't very much in the mood.  I noticed it yesterday when I was in the gym.  I was going through my routine and there was that lackluster feeling, as if I was simply going through everything passively.  I wasn't feeling anything except tiredness, an exhaustion that seems to be deeper than I think it is.  Sure my hamstrings hurt, my legs feel stretched, my shoulders feel like I'm just done carrying the weight of the world, and my chest feels like it just got a boob job; but it's more than that.  I feel restless and exhausted by everything.  And it carried on from yesterday to today and until I don't know when.  That lethargy, of seeming without energy to carry on. In one of my vacant moments, I was wondering whether what kind of life is better for me.  One that I see around here--old men and women going with their lives, trying as much as possible to extend it, crutches and knee replacements notwithstanding, ...