I asked on my reactivated Facebook page, in Tagalog: are we playing?
I asked this (indirectly, of course) of three people. One was a classmate, who seemed to like me as a person and somehow as a friend, but did not act as I expected. The second was a student who seems to want to try to challenge me. The third, well, the third is actually the rest of the world.
Guess what. We're playing. The first one wants to play guessing games. The second wants to play hide-and-seek. And the third, well, the third wants to keep the game options open.
I think I sense mechanics for two of the games. Let me relate them to you.
1) Guessing games. There are three levels.
Level I is called "Act Act Revolution". It's like Dance Dance Revolution, but instead of stepping to hit the arrows, you act to hit the social cues. He laughs. I smile to indicate I am in agreement. He writes something in shorthand on his notebook, or some song lyrics in English. I try to also write in my notebook - in French, so he wouldn't understand. Sometimes, though, you shouldn't hit the social cues, and you should just listen in class. If you're able to match the cues that should be matched, you win!
Level II is called "Give It All You've Got". It's a conversational game, demanding lots of ostensible information about you and him, hence the name of the level. You try to make petty conversation about things that ostensibly matter to you. He will try to make petty conversation about things that ostensibly matter to you, too. You try to respond with two words at least. Then you try to make petty conversation about things that ostensibly matter to him. He will do the same, and respond to you in two words at least. If he has the last word (meaning he cannot make any more petty conversation about things that ostensibly matter to you), you win!
Level III is called "The Boat Is Sinking". Well, this is the level where you have to part. So when the boat is sinking, scram and quickly find yourself another partner/partners in conversation. If you can do this and forget about him, you win!
There are boss levels on Facebook, wherein he posts things that appear on your wall that may/may not pertain to you. The key is not to be fazed, and to (if you're proactive) post things that may/may not pertain to him as well. Kinda like war, but 1) on Facebook and 2) not acrimonious.
2) Hide-and-seek. This game has no levels. However, you are ALWAYS the 'it'. You must seek him out. You must find where he hides and how he hides. It's because you're responsible for his grade in your subject. Use your other students to find him, or better yet, try to make conversation. Degree of difficulty varies with him. The problem is, your other students will compound the difficulty by multiplying it with their own degree of difficulty. Choose wisely to win. You win if you last until the brief quarter is over, because the number of times he will hide has no limits - he will do it again and again until the quarter ends. You might lose strength and/or resolve. Drink Happy Drinks to recharge your strength, and make Resolution Potions to recharge your resolve. You see, it's more like an RPG than the original hide-and-seek street game.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
"Stage-y" Love
Julius (see last post) is a hard nut. After I sent him the letter, he posted on Facebook:
I would rather travel alone than have a stagey [sic] travel buddy.
I knew he was hitting me. He thinks I'm too dramatic for him, because of the pure Tagalog letter I sent. He'd rather travel life alone than with me, the dramatic one. I was annoyed. I just posted on my own wall:
I'm already long gone, baby. In vain do you kick against the goad. Travel light. :D
I can't get over this, for the following reasons:
1) It's not only Julius who thinks I'm "dramatic". My aunt does, too. Some of my friends think that, too. And I do not like it.
2) It's a rather bad way to end a courtship. I tried to have goodwill, but no, Julius comes and tears up the document.
3) Formal Tagalog is not only used for love letters of great mushiness. It's also used to state facts. Julius seems to confuse mushiness with facts. I guess writing the letter in pure Tagalog was not a good idea, I should have written in English instead. But still.
With regard to point 1): The funny and annoying thing is, it seems to be part of Filipino contemporary culture to disdain the real and substitute the pleasantries for it. Real love and real feeling are "stage-y". Logic and deep thinking are "complications of simple life" (this, from the pimp in Harrison Plaza who tried to sell me 30-ish women for Php 500). Words in church, which express dogmas, are "highfalutin'". My mother exclaimed, when I converted to Orthodoxy, "Sana bobo na lang ang naging anak ko." (I wish my son had been dumb instead.) If she were not my mother, I would have laughed in her face, or kept silent out of contempt.
Society becomes a playground, and people play their way. It wasn't always this way: until the early Spanish period, people considered it important to work hard, parley with village mates, go to the fiestas to celebrate the saints, have meals with family, and then retire to bed. I don't blame any period or force in history for the change, but the culture developed its present form during the lawyers-or-doctors period of mainstream Philippine society (i.e. when you were important only if you were a doctor or a lawyer).
Answer to point 1): I can play without being untrue to myself. Sabina in The Unbearable Lightness of Being is for me the best model of this. I just don't know about Julius - if he can do this and still remain truthful to himself. He seems to have started playing early. I am a latecomer to this game, and so I know "truth" from "non-truth". Advantage? Sometimes I think it is a burden, but then I think: if I know the truth about myself, I escape from the game unscathed, and rest myself in my secret place which only God knows where. The past year has impressed on me the latter thought, and to this day I consider it an advantage indeed.
Of my five courtships in the past three years, this has been ended in the most acrimonious way. It rivals the October experience I had with a workmate, when she just stopped talking to me God knows why, and I submitted my last love letter on yellow pad. She did say on her wall:
Some things must be discontinued and ignored.
I think that she feels I'm just fooling around with her. It was really painful because she was also my friend, I told her many things about myself. So I understand her, and simply try to get along. But Julius, with his expressed disdain for "stage-y" real love on Facebook, takes the cake. For the life of me, I don't get it. If we're done, we're done. No need to plaster it on Facebook or any social space. It's like posting that you broke up with me because I have a small d*ck, or I have herpes, or I gave you chlamydia. It's rather tasteless, even in disguise.
I take my October love's status as my own this time, and say:
Some things must be discontinued and ignored.
I would rather travel alone than have a stagey [sic] travel buddy.
I knew he was hitting me. He thinks I'm too dramatic for him, because of the pure Tagalog letter I sent. He'd rather travel life alone than with me, the dramatic one. I was annoyed. I just posted on my own wall:
I'm already long gone, baby. In vain do you kick against the goad. Travel light. :D
I can't get over this, for the following reasons:
1) It's not only Julius who thinks I'm "dramatic". My aunt does, too. Some of my friends think that, too. And I do not like it.
2) It's a rather bad way to end a courtship. I tried to have goodwill, but no, Julius comes and tears up the document.
3) Formal Tagalog is not only used for love letters of great mushiness. It's also used to state facts. Julius seems to confuse mushiness with facts. I guess writing the letter in pure Tagalog was not a good idea, I should have written in English instead. But still.
With regard to point 1): The funny and annoying thing is, it seems to be part of Filipino contemporary culture to disdain the real and substitute the pleasantries for it. Real love and real feeling are "stage-y". Logic and deep thinking are "complications of simple life" (this, from the pimp in Harrison Plaza who tried to sell me 30-ish women for Php 500). Words in church, which express dogmas, are "highfalutin'". My mother exclaimed, when I converted to Orthodoxy, "Sana bobo na lang ang naging anak ko." (I wish my son had been dumb instead.) If she were not my mother, I would have laughed in her face, or kept silent out of contempt.
Society becomes a playground, and people play their way. It wasn't always this way: until the early Spanish period, people considered it important to work hard, parley with village mates, go to the fiestas to celebrate the saints, have meals with family, and then retire to bed. I don't blame any period or force in history for the change, but the culture developed its present form during the lawyers-or-doctors period of mainstream Philippine society (i.e. when you were important only if you were a doctor or a lawyer).
Answer to point 1): I can play without being untrue to myself. Sabina in The Unbearable Lightness of Being is for me the best model of this. I just don't know about Julius - if he can do this and still remain truthful to himself. He seems to have started playing early. I am a latecomer to this game, and so I know "truth" from "non-truth". Advantage? Sometimes I think it is a burden, but then I think: if I know the truth about myself, I escape from the game unscathed, and rest myself in my secret place which only God knows where. The past year has impressed on me the latter thought, and to this day I consider it an advantage indeed.
Of my five courtships in the past three years, this has been ended in the most acrimonious way. It rivals the October experience I had with a workmate, when she just stopped talking to me God knows why, and I submitted my last love letter on yellow pad. She did say on her wall:
Some things must be discontinued and ignored.
I think that she feels I'm just fooling around with her. It was really painful because she was also my friend, I told her many things about myself. So I understand her, and simply try to get along. But Julius, with his expressed disdain for "stage-y" real love on Facebook, takes the cake. For the life of me, I don't get it. If we're done, we're done. No need to plaster it on Facebook or any social space. It's like posting that you broke up with me because I have a small d*ck, or I have herpes, or I gave you chlamydia. It's rather tasteless, even in disguise.
I take my October love's status as my own this time, and say:
Some things must be discontinued and ignored.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Christmas Surprise
I surprised myself for Christmas. I fell in love with a guy AND I am not ashamed of the fact. He rejected me, but I still love him. I never thought I could even have the courage to do this, so uptight a person I was.
He was a gay guy; let's call him Julius. We met during the book launching of one of my architect-friends. When we got to move close to each other, he started talking about the Grand Marian Procession in Intramuros, how colorful the procession carriages were, and how dramatic. I went with Julius on the way home. He lives in Makati, so from Manila we had to either take the jeep to Cubao or go down Taft Avenue to Buendia. I frowned at the idea of going back to Quezon City again, having come from there for the book launching. So we went down Taft Avenue to Buendia, and rode a bus to Ayala Avenue.
We talked about a lot of things. I rambled about the PNR having no train schedules after 8pm. He countered by saying that it's a practical thing for the PNR to limit their schedules, since few people ride after 8pm anyway. Then he ranted about Piolo Pascual fooling the populace by covering his homosexuality and having publicized relationships with KC Concepcion and other girls. I countered by saying that no one can really blame Piolo for doing that; people in this country are unkind to gays.
We did argue about the way heritage conservation is done in this country. I found Julius to be intelligent and nice to talk to, although I did sense his pride and his propensity to say unkind things about other people behind their backs. Of course, he looked gorgeous too, but it was the non-material things about him that mattered most to me. I was falling hard for him by the end of our commute. I did ask for his number, ostensibly to talk about his work, but more so to be able to make my move on him.
I did not really send him regular text messages until Christmastime. There I was, on the 26th, inside the Bicol Express train heading for Naga City. I decided to send him messages on the 27th, as I was deep inside Bicol. I even called him on the 29th, only to find him sick, sleeping and upset because I woke him. I did apologize for the disturbance, but continued to send him messages. Until January 2, when I was told by his friend that he "was not interested". Whether "not interested" is a euphemism for "pissed off beyond all goodwill" or anything else, I did not want to know.
So I wrote him a letter. One of these farewell-and-thank-you letters which I send to my love interests after being rejected by them, but this one was in Tagalog. I felt I had to give a record to posterity about my feelings toward him, my falling for him, my intentions, why I loved him. I did not write to get him to love me in the same way. I accepted his rejection with a lot of sadness, but the sorrow is not hollow, it feels as if a fist-sized lead ball is gyrating inside your heart, pressing on its flesh with brutality yet informing it that it is full. This sorrow is still strong in me as I write. I cried over him - the first time I cried over a gay guy - and it really felt painful. I intend to get this letter to him on Facebook soon - the last message of any sort he will receive from me.
I love him. I want him to realize that. Although I have thought that perhaps that is the reason why he rejected me eventually. I was asking for an eventual romantic relationship, the stable and exclusive kind, but of course first of all I wanted to see him more often. It turns out this was not to be. I don't know; maybe he's not ready for it, maybe I showed myself to be an annoying simpleton unworthy of being entertained, maybe I'm not just his type. I still love him nonetheless. I know that he is worthy to be loved unconditionally. I wanted to help heal his wounds and replace these with affection. And I was excited by the possibility of him loving me back in the same manner. Call me a hopeless romantic, but my love is practical and not idealistic. In fact, I show that I love him by letting him go and moving on. I continue praying for him though - as long as I feel it's needed.
It's back to being straight, but it's too early to tell if I could ever forget Julius.
He was a gay guy; let's call him Julius. We met during the book launching of one of my architect-friends. When we got to move close to each other, he started talking about the Grand Marian Procession in Intramuros, how colorful the procession carriages were, and how dramatic. I went with Julius on the way home. He lives in Makati, so from Manila we had to either take the jeep to Cubao or go down Taft Avenue to Buendia. I frowned at the idea of going back to Quezon City again, having come from there for the book launching. So we went down Taft Avenue to Buendia, and rode a bus to Ayala Avenue.
We talked about a lot of things. I rambled about the PNR having no train schedules after 8pm. He countered by saying that it's a practical thing for the PNR to limit their schedules, since few people ride after 8pm anyway. Then he ranted about Piolo Pascual fooling the populace by covering his homosexuality and having publicized relationships with KC Concepcion and other girls. I countered by saying that no one can really blame Piolo for doing that; people in this country are unkind to gays.
We did argue about the way heritage conservation is done in this country. I found Julius to be intelligent and nice to talk to, although I did sense his pride and his propensity to say unkind things about other people behind their backs. Of course, he looked gorgeous too, but it was the non-material things about him that mattered most to me. I was falling hard for him by the end of our commute. I did ask for his number, ostensibly to talk about his work, but more so to be able to make my move on him.
I did not really send him regular text messages until Christmastime. There I was, on the 26th, inside the Bicol Express train heading for Naga City. I decided to send him messages on the 27th, as I was deep inside Bicol. I even called him on the 29th, only to find him sick, sleeping and upset because I woke him. I did apologize for the disturbance, but continued to send him messages. Until January 2, when I was told by his friend that he "was not interested". Whether "not interested" is a euphemism for "pissed off beyond all goodwill" or anything else, I did not want to know.
So I wrote him a letter. One of these farewell-and-thank-you letters which I send to my love interests after being rejected by them, but this one was in Tagalog. I felt I had to give a record to posterity about my feelings toward him, my falling for him, my intentions, why I loved him. I did not write to get him to love me in the same way. I accepted his rejection with a lot of sadness, but the sorrow is not hollow, it feels as if a fist-sized lead ball is gyrating inside your heart, pressing on its flesh with brutality yet informing it that it is full. This sorrow is still strong in me as I write. I cried over him - the first time I cried over a gay guy - and it really felt painful. I intend to get this letter to him on Facebook soon - the last message of any sort he will receive from me.
I love him. I want him to realize that. Although I have thought that perhaps that is the reason why he rejected me eventually. I was asking for an eventual romantic relationship, the stable and exclusive kind, but of course first of all I wanted to see him more often. It turns out this was not to be. I don't know; maybe he's not ready for it, maybe I showed myself to be an annoying simpleton unworthy of being entertained, maybe I'm not just his type. I still love him nonetheless. I know that he is worthy to be loved unconditionally. I wanted to help heal his wounds and replace these with affection. And I was excited by the possibility of him loving me back in the same manner. Call me a hopeless romantic, but my love is practical and not idealistic. In fact, I show that I love him by letting him go and moving on. I continue praying for him though - as long as I feel it's needed.
It's back to being straight, but it's too early to tell if I could ever forget Julius.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)