Pornication.

There are days in your life where you just don't friggin' care about the stuff that's supposed to matter anymore.

If I were to ponder on why such fleeting phases come to exist, in modern vernacular, my head would literally implode, and little pieces of brain matter would slowly squeeze out of my orifices like leche flan through a number 3 sieve.

I notice that I get my thunder to type my thoughts in notes of time. I wouldn't want to be repetitive so I'd just say it's wee morning. Just about the time where the real action happens on a Saturday night except that it's a Monday and I can't even view porn because my little brother is, in the meantime, sleeping in my room.

Of why I bother to such obscene, tacky alternative form of entertainment? - Egads, ask the millions who also describe it obscene and tacky and those who say it's funnier more than it's arousing. You'd never get a straight answer. ;) Because they fuckin' watch it too.

I may have been single for a time a little too long. Not by choice, I say, shamelessly. God knows how I've tried and braved the dating scene like Dante Alighieri through the circles.

The sex is accessible, but the thought alone that it is - takes all the thrill out of it. Like a blindsiding billion euros in your possession and you've no idea what to do with it right away.

Maybe the good side to that attitude is that you may be deluded that you're content. Considering how man can never EVER be content until he draws his last breath. Only the fools are. Many fools have died happily.

I can't wait to be one of them. Romance will forever be my crack.

A wise friend once told me that true Happiness lies in a life well-lived of its beholder. I couldn't agree more. I look back when I was 9 years old and there was a point where all I cared about was my gameboy and the games my relatives would buy me on special occasions. To me, then, it was the only form of true love.

It wasn't until movies like My girl (where McCaulay Culkin starred and kissed a girl for the first time but died in the end) and Fern Gully (don't ask!) were created and totally fucked up my perfectly sane system of emotional homeostasis.

Of course, the early pressures of Filipino culture where older women, relative or otherwise, about a thousand times your age ask you about who your crush is at school weren’t helpful at all. Like Wiley Coyote wondering how Roadrunner would ever actually taste, I got curious -- next thing I knew, I was wondering why my dad kept Penthouse magazines at the top cabinet and why a naked girl makes my peepee hard when she's for no reason holding a billiard stick between her legs.

Of course now, it's the Men that makes my peepee harder.

*snicker*

I'm gay for no reason. It's like you were born for a reason you make up as you go along. Should you squeeze an answer out of me, I don't know -- I'd probably tell you that menstruation isn't really that beautiful at all. And say "Iw, blood."

Don't get me wrong, I'm a fuckin' feminist. I love women. Without girls, I'd be the loneliest man alive. Understanding women has probably become the only religion I will ever believe in. Living the best of both of worlds is power of Godly proportions.

Yesterday, I've gone out with the 7th guy since I quit about 2 and a half months ago. I figured I had all the time time to date but I’ve foolishly forgotten how difficult it is to actually find that connection with somebody else.

After many failures, last night was different. 'Tis true, time and again proven, that the less you go neurotic over something, the lesser its chances of failing. My thoughts last night, pre-datum, were completely, and surprisingly neutral, perhaps even MATURE in my rarest moments - I didn't care about whether he'd like me back or not, whether or not he'd think I'm fat - or if he'd think I'd look horrible naked.

I was so cool, it felt like I was unstoppable and I don't feel like that all the time. The date went smoothly as frozen yogurt would slowly melt in my mouth on a hot summer day. A good movie, the subtle awkward romantic stares, and a refreshing attitude – all as not planned to be, but beautiful.

It was a late movie that showed midnight. Walking back to the parking light in Greenbelt, when the stores and lights are all out by 2 a.m., while walking, he reached for my hand and I've never felt such magic in the longest time. It was a pleasant surprise and I held on firmly, instinctively not letting go until the feeling goes away.

He held my hand, kissed my shoulder and kept on staring at me telling me how I glowed in the cinema because I am fair in complexion. I was only pale because I was in isolation the entire holy week. But hey, glowing’s good.

I dropped him off his place, but I never had the chance to kiss him goodbye because the security guards of his building kept on staring at us like we were about to pounce on him from within my car. (He wishes.)

I drove back home with a smiling face and an infatuated demeanor. He texted and said he wished he’d invited me inside so he could’ve hugged me. Indulging in it was euphoric. A little too much, even that I started thinking of the next place I’d take him to.

The next day we got into talking and all that was well, in all its glorious infatuation was about to face its imminent departure. Through talking more, I’ve realized he wouldn’t be somebody who is at all understanding of what a relationship is. Today’s the 3^rd day and I continue to realize that his conceit and his hyperactive sexual appetite slowly made my adoration towards him fade slowly. Freakin’ phone sex.

It’s disappointing, but then again typical that I continue to count the failures because of my inaccurate interpretations. I’ll forever be mad when it comes to that.

This time I want to stop caring again. The preoccupations I’ve set for myself are all to commence at signal. Photoraphy, Porn, Playstation, and Pritong food – the cubic P’s that’ll drive my sanity at ease. Maybe this time magic happens again. Fleeting or Forever, it’s still magic and I’d take whatever piece I’m bound to get. ;)