fullman*

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Today I decided to stay put and hunker down. The year has just ended, and in a few days I am turning 32.

You have to admit that 2009 was a strange year: it had 3 arms, an extra face, a 13th month that had 365 days. It was as if each day is always bent on eating the next one, each week cannibalizing the entire month, scattering red entrails on the floor: typhoons, floods, immorality, backhoes, Gloria, an almost eruption.

A pause then is important. 2009 deserves a proper burial. A comma is not enough, this year demands a period, a full stop.

From where I am I can see an ant pursuing a scent. It has no other agenda, no flash flood to worry about, no relief goods to pack. No Zen profundity to its movements, just the single-mindedness of a line.

We need to treat this year as if it were a line that unravels. Last year was a border.

I stretched and my feet touched China. A physiological feat, but what for? We only need to look around us, stare at each other, to know that we carry our own Great Walls.

Last year, I urged a few friends and some kindred spirits to pluck their hearts and wear them on their sleeves. I did. There was blood trickling down my arm, but it didnt give me love. Instead, my heart was yanked away, and all that remained was a bloody scribble on the pavement: I was here.

But who cares. Take it away, the heart doesnt grow still anyway. When excited it cavorts with the throat. When cold, it clenches itself. When broken it doesnt smash, it implodes and eats itself. When lonely, it wanders. Lonelier, it logs in, uploads, and updates its status.

Quote me if Im wrong, the heart is never still.

Last year, you jumped and I didnt follow. When I finally did I was already on my own. So dont blame me if I didnt welcome the new year with a jump: Id rather begin with a full stop.

The people walking on the street suddenly stopped, their faces darkening – here a tear or a whimper, there a sigh – and then the act itself. At the sight of a familiar nape, or at the prodding of a distant scent or the notes of a song once shared, the heart is wrenched out of the one’s soul, gravity becoming its long-lost lover, shattering on busy pavements, in the middle of the city, inside an empty church, in front of a portrait, or even when one is high.

The act repeats itself, a testimony to the truth that we have more than one heart, and the best argument why we can’t spare that many.

This is the reason why I haven’t blogged for the past few weeks: I wanted to  transfer my blog to a new host.  Finally done it, and while there are some glitches that still needs to be fixed, I am pretty glad that I decided to move to a new house!  

(Now that I’m done with *nix stuffs, SQLs and ftps – I am just trying to impress you – I’ll probably be spending a few more days looking for new themes and doing some widget-shopping. Will definitely update in a few days.)

What with the society telling me over and over again that my sexual behavior is unnatural, I developed an inclination toward studying nature. As a student I thought I could pursue the desire – thoroughly boosted by the discovery that prehistoric insects trapped inside amber could lead to the cloning of dinosaurs – as a formal course. I wanted to be a genetic engineer.

But then math got in the way. No way I could stand in front of eminent scientists, George Bush, and Pope Benedict XVI, show them the cloned baby, and declare, “Jesus is back,” if I don’t know how to multiply fractions or if I panic at the sight of mathematical symbols.

So I became a “nature enthusiast” instead, which really is an excuse of sorts. I am a yoga enthusiast and not a yogi because I fall asleep while meditating. I can theoretically become a basketball enthusiast but never a basketball player because I lack the height. So there you go, the origin of a nature enthusiast.

So here’s my confession as a nature enthusiast. After climate change, my next nature obsession is the discovery by scientists that the Y chromosome is shrinking. Others actually estimate that it could totally disappear in 125,000 years. What this means is that men could vanish, replaced by asexual, all-female humans. Read the rest of this entry »

It’s the month of love. I’ve been single for a while now. If you are someone like this guy, well, I’d be very glad to meet you.

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I thought no one noticed it, but Bandila, the late-night news of ABS-CBN, had a segment last night about how Senators grilled Jun Lozada, the star witness of the opposition on the NBN controversy (If you are not familiar with the NBN controversy, read these articles first). Bandila’s story said that even Lozada’s pagkalalaki (manhood/maleness) was questioned during the hearing.

It was Sen. Jamby Madrigal who opened the topic. He asked Lozada, a close friend of former NEDA Sec. Romulo Neri and a consultant of NEDA on the controversial project, if his relationship with Neri is intimate. If, to be precise, it is as intimate as the ones he allegedly has with two men, whom Madrigal has the chutzpah to name, one of them is allegedly Neri’s boyfriend. (Read Neri’s reaction here.) Nothing new about what Madrigal asked, and the story has been circulating in the political grapevine and in the halls of Congress ever since Neri’s name has been involved in the NBN scandal. But Madrigal’s motive must be questioned. Read the rest of this entry »

Read the rest of this entry »