The Bitter Pill Speech

**These are snippets of the consuming speech that finally unhinged all those six years. I'm trying, but it's hard to write this now, because the withdrawal symptoms are surfacing to harass my every effort. And, simultaneously, I'm trying to remember how I delivered this, to him yesterday afternoon. And how he said the words I badly needed to hear. I know the delivery killed me twice in passing, thrice even, come to think of it, but I need to hang on to the littlest detail, however hurtful and masochistic and unkind, because this is all I have left.

That being said, allow me to let slip a most shallow and pathetic defense - See, a man with tattoos has got to have something to demonstrate, otherwise, it's all for show.

And I chose to keep this as a buried post because I can't have this glaring at me. And I really said everything in The Speech, and I never realized until now that reading can be so brave.

START OF SPEECH


ME: Gusto kita, totoo, pero alam mo naman itong lagay ko, at alam ko rin namang hindi puwede. Ilang taon ko rin tong tinago, dineny, at ngayong kausap na kita ulit eh sabihin mo na rin, gusto ko sa yo na manggaling, na hindi talaga puwede at walang mangyayari sa atin talaga. Uulitin mo lang yung sinabi mo nung huling nag-usap tayo sa telepono (that was about three years back in 2007, and that was the first defeat), ulitin mo lang yun kung naalala mo pa, at sabihin mo ng malinaw, para maging klaro sa akin.

(DELETED PART FOLLOWS, I wrote this, true, but I left it out, didn't have to tell him, didn't see the need, all too fucking self-defeating if you ask me)

ME: Pero hindi naman ibig sabihin nun eh wala na tong ganitong nag-uusap tayo. Nasa sa iyo yun. Heto, masaya ko sa ganito, gusto ko malinaw sa yo yun. Ayoko lang ng may inaasahan ako na wala naman talaga dapat. Mayroon akong ulterior motive, oo, pero alam ko namang walang mangyayari doon, at habang wala akong naririnig sa yo eh sa palagay ko hindi mawawala iyon. Kaya heto at pinaghandaan ko na ito, itong SONAng ito, para maging malinaw na at maging klaro na talaga. At nang mahugutan na rin ako ng tinik. Kaya yun, ano masasabi mo?

(HE ANSWERS WITH THE EXPECTED RESPONSE AT THIS POINT. Yeah, I even included the theatric sequence. How drama-queen is that?)

ME: Yaan, yan lang ang gusto ko marinig. Edi tapos, hindi na ako uma-asa, hindi na ako hoping. At least ngayon eh klaro na talaga sa kin ang lagay ko, dapat lang, at puwede ko na tigilan ang mga daydream ko. Haay salamat (sigh). Osha, babay!

(LONG PAUSE for the effect)

ME: Haha! Hoy tanga, andian ka pa? (This was supposed to represent the comic relief that I knew I needed at this point, but I was all too knee deep in all this drama to even try. Which is why this was deleted)

(END OF DELETED PART)

(CONTINUATION OF ACTUAL DELIVERED SPEECH, written on a separate piece of paper because this was further inspired later that same day, 08/10/2010)

ME: Naalala mo ung nag-usap tayo sa phone kailan lang? Yung 9pm to 4am? Na-realize ko na heto na naman ulit ako eh. Hindi ako normal pagdating sa iyo. Kasi kahit papaano, kahit sa tinagal ng pagkakataon na di tayo nagpang-abot eh bumabalik pa rin sa akin ang expectation sa mga pagkakataong andian ka na ulit. Nagiging makulit ako, nawawala ako sa huwisyo, palagi akong may ini-intindi pagdating sa yo. Hindi ako ganito, hindi dapat ganito, ayoko ng ganito ako at wala akong control sa sarili ko. Kaya ang hiling ko eh ang marinig sa yo, in the most final and decisive tone, na tigilan ko na dahil walang mangyayari at ipagpaliban ko na ito ng tuluyan hanggang sa dumating ang pagkakataong mawala na sa akin ang lahat ng mga kababawang to.

ME: Yun ang gusto ko, yun lang, at hangga't maari eh dagdagan mo ng puwersa at conviction ang pagkakasabi mo, please?

(HE DELIVERS THE EXPECTED RESPONSE. And I took it all in, like the man, the defeated man, I have always been, and I tried to conceal the hurt that I knew will be there, but my own heaving sighs betrayed the goddamned charade and I was all too fucked for my own good.)

(CONTINUATION OF ACTUAL DELIVERED SPEECH. This is the height of masochism, the salt that is rubbed with sadistic glee to my self-inflicted wounds. This part, however, was never scripted, unrehearsed, a most damaging improvisation that I know I should be regretting)

ME: And, kung puwede lang, sana huwag mo na kong ine-entertain, sa kahit anong medium pa. Please, para sa akin, para di na ako magka-ganito ulit.

(ALL EXTEMPORANEOUS FROM THIS POINT ON)

HIM: Panong entertain?

ME: Ganito, ganitong nag-uusap tayo.

HIM: Yan ba talaga ang gusto mo? Oo o hindi?

ME: Hindi ko masabing Oo, hindi ko rin masabing hindi, pero sa palagay ko eh mas mabuti kong oo, para na rin sa akin. (I say this in retrospect - Eh?)

HIM: Okay.

(I remember these parts all too vividly. This was unnecessary, but it was the final disintegration I didn't know if I needed.)

The Six-Year Talk that I pursued, persuaded even, culminated in an exchange of Thank Yous and Im Sorrys at this point, and then we promptly hang up. I never heard from him since then, which was good, because it was the sick vision- mission behind this masochistic exercise.

August 11, 2010

He Finally Came Out of His Closet

**I'm not writing this to offend you, though. Cheers to you.

It was one of those hand me down stories, the "a friend of a friend told me" sort. But, like most scandals are, it never lost its appeal. One of my friends, after twenty something years, admitted to his being gay. Thing is, he requested to have his confession kept in complete discretion as his admission was still a blood compact short of a top military secret. It was like he decided he was gay, but he's still thinking about it.

This doesn't mean that its a completely retractable confession. For real. You don't come out of the closet, and then wish you can come back into hiding. You might not know it, but when you say you're gay, you are saying it with the finality of a heart attack. Contrary to popular (make believe) belief, there's no gray area to it. That's a gay myth, and whether you like it or not, your admission's as flaming pink as it gets. You can't be gay and "discretely bisexual" about it; that's as grammatically impossible as a double dead chicken.

But then again, don't mind what I just said. Bullshitting is my element, and I'm totally in character. To tell you the truth, my baptism of fire was no more comfortable, my induction was really an awful bother, and I will be writing about it soon. I get it, and I understand; you're not completely prepared to shed your heterosexual shell. I'm not in no authority to tell you how gay you should be after your admission. I'm not the gay police. That's Jovit Moya.

I've known him for some twenty something years, and I was right all along. He was always Chun Li or Storm whenever we had those play fights as kids, and that lingering memory had this steadfast persuasion on my judgment. I tell you now that his confession was a perfect I told you so moment. And, being so, I was never offended by the fact that I missed the confession straight from the horse's mouth. I would have made fun of his relief anyway. I mean, that's how I play with my grown up gay friends.

Related Links:
Who in fucking gay hell is Jovit Moya? (Taglish)
Seriously, who in fucking gay hell is this faggot Jovit Moya?

Horror Movie Review #22: Jason Goes to Hell

JASON GOES TO HELL
Directed By: Adam Marcus
Release Date: 13 August 1993
Running Time: 87 minutes
Language: English
Horror Type: Jason Voorhees
Sex? - Oh hell yeah
Gore? - The finest

A successful entrapment operation finally gets the better of Camp Crystal's Jason Voorhees. It commences in a noisy explosion of bullet wounds, severed limbs, and a gory rain of entrails. Jason Voorhees was dead. And the reason why he didn't stay dead is mostly due to this coroner who took a possessed liking to Jason's dismembered heart, although altogether beating, and promptly ate it. The spirit of Jason Voorhees, in all its malevolent essence, promptly transfers itself to this poor gourmand, and unleashes another interesting installation in the Friday the 13th Series.

It's Jason Voorhees. The crazy kill scenes in all their hilarious creativity are bound to follow.

Momel's Rating: 3/5

Horror Movie Review #21: A Chinese Ghost Story 2

A CHINESE GHOST STORY 2
Directed By: Siu-Tung Ching
Release Date: 13 July 1990
Running Time: 1 hour 24 minutes
Language: Chinese with English Subtitles
Horror Type: Demons
Sex? - Nope. Doesn't need it.
Gore? - Some


Its a general rule that sequels suck. That's something they probably teach in film school more as a precaution than a reminder; its a given, proven, unimpeachable truth. Of course, challengers are always welcome to test their mettle since there are very rare sequels which almost parallel what infamy their predecessor was able to contribute.

See, the magic is not easily transferable. But this movie passed that sequel test. Or maybe because I have this soft spot for magical martial arts movies. A Chinese Ghost Story 2 is an enchanting parade of supernatural kung fu fighters who fly in their path of conquer. I tell you, crouching tigers and hidden dragons have got nothing on this way too cool band of earth magicians and seven star swordsmen.

Momel's Rating: 4/5

Horror Movie Review #20: Sweeny Todd

SWEENY TODD (TV MOVIE)
Directed By: Dave Moore
Release Date: 3 January 2006 (UK)
Running Time: 90 minutes
Language: English
Horror Type: Murderous Barbers
Sex? - Some
Gore? - Oh hell yeah!

Once upon a time, in a London that's plagued by gaolers, consumption, and where real men wear wigs, there lived a barber slash surgeon slash abortionist slash serial killer. It's my type of London, and he's my ultimate Jack of Trades, not only because of his peculiar versatility, but because the Talented Mr Todd also holds the distinction of being the quietest barber in London. It's his disposition that warms people up to him, and it perfectly camouflages the unlikely murderer that is Mr Sweeny Todd.

He's a barber. And he has full access to his customer's throat by default most especially when he's applying shaving cream on them. And when your some psychopath with a terrible bloodlust, you take advantage of that vulnerability to satisfy your killing urge. Mr Todd, the quietest barber in London, does so with singleness of purpose, and uses his razor to cause a great gushing incision across his customer's throat.

He creates a partnership with the pie maker next door to whom he discloses his killing whim. She benefits from her complicity (silence); she is guaranteed to never run out of meat with which to add to her pies. He sends her the dismembered flesh of his victims. She sends him customers by word of mouth.

What makes it all the more genuinely unnerving is that its all so simple and yet so closer to life. There have been countless times in which we made ourselves vulnerable to such lethal opportunities, but we are so estranged from the possibility of a killer barber. This movie, however far removed from the makings of a lucrative production, efficiently unmasks the fascinating machinations of one very singular serial killer, and leaves us coughing for more even after the event of his suicide.


Momel's Rating: 4/5