Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The G* Spot Blog Winner

The G* Spot Blog of the Month (January 2007) Result:

1 Body 2 Souls - 1%

R*yan - 2%

Strictly Gay - 22%

Apollo and Hermes - 4%

Thomas from Paris - 3%

Strange Shades of Grey - 2%

All Aussie Beef - 61%

Male and Beautiful - 6%

Undoubtedly, ALL AUSSIE BEEF is the runaway winner this month with 61% of the 283 total votes cast in this month.

Some blog are given the ability to make your senses warm all over and ALL AUSSIE BEEF ladies and gentlemen is one of them. So be sure to fiund time to visit his blog at www.allaussiebeef.blogspot.com



Tuesday, January 30, 2007

BlackHole


As the darkness that has been my companion threatens to escape, my quandary begins. The fact that it shouldn’t be a quandary at all makes little difference.

We have forged a relationship, a very unhealthy relationship to be sure, but a relationship nonetheless. Its’ departure is not necessarily a blessing at all. It should be, of course.

However, companionships of any kind can be a crutch difficult to let go, even unhealthy companionships such as this. The pain and agony that I have been faced with stay with me like an old friend at this point.

A friend who has worn out their welcome long ago can still be a friend, and an important one at that. But, I can’t help but wonder what I will do in its’ absence. I should embrace the departure and search for a better companionship. After all, that is the intelligent thing to do. However, I know from experience that only a fool believes it is that easy.

We are all reluctant to emerge and this is why I take a final look back at the friend I leave behind. Perhaps I hope to never see my old companion again…

Perhaps…I do not.


Acknowledgement:
Gaytwogether for the Photo

Monday, January 29, 2007

Agape


I am gay.
And I am no longer afraid to say that.
I believe that Love between two men (or women) is not a sin.
Can you hear me World!
I want you to know that homosexuality is not wrong.
Love is not wrong.
When a man Loves another human being with all his heart,
whether male or female (it does not matter),
then there can be no wrong, no evil.
When Love is pure and wants for sharing in any individual,
it matters not with what sex the said person does devotedly give it to.
Why should it? Hear me Lord for I say that,
“To Love another human being, and to freely give your heart to them, is divine!”
For what better purpose is there in life than to give freely of that one most beautiful gift -your Love- that you so graciously bestowed upon us.
For if it were so wrong and sinful to Love another of the same sex, as many would so accuse my kind,
then why is that I Love?
Why is that you have given me this gift to give and share my life with whomever I so chose? And I choose to Love him.
Yes, a man no less in Love with me,
who chooses to share his Love,
his body - his Life - with me as I do with him.
Let the world see that we are but two souls twined in the Love of two mortal bodies. Be they of the male form, two immortal souls in Love, as it should be.
Amen.



Late Drops:

Im back from my vacation. One week sheer Bliss! Naked under the Sun of Santander Cebu. Communing with nature, Swimming with the marine fishes naked... making Love.



Gonna be posting some of the pictures soon...








Monday, January 15, 2007

Shattered Rainbow


suffering from his heartbreak or horror
in his sterile piece of hell
bleeds an innocent dove
with broken wings
and charred feathers
holding in disaster
crushed pebbles
once his fingertips
felt every thought he knew
courageous outlooks
clocking the true destination
of the pains he holds inside
trouble caged Freedom
clipping his wings in front of
the audience
snaps their fingers
to the soul they\'ve trapped
inside

Friday, January 12, 2007

Unshackle Me



I wonder why we allow ourselves to feel safe in this world. I wonder about the people who don't worry about their situations, their lives, and their worlds. Why do you believe what those in power tell you? When, deep down, we all know they tell us these things so that they themselves can do whatever they please. They would say anything to keep us calm and supportive... to keep us submissive and quiet. And, when it suites them, they play on our fears--even keep us afraid and needy--to get what they want from us. AND WE LET THEM. We let them feed us this propaganda bullshit, and we eat it up, even thank them for it. We rarely if ever question them, never wonder why they are allowed to commit crimes, but the poor are not. Never wonder why they get away with MURDER, but a damned mother of five can't steal a few cans of soup without going to jail.

We let our jails be overrun with 'hopeless' cases... fill them with high school drop-outs and lower class minorities... let our children grow up in the prison system. In doing so, we kill any and all potential these people could ever have, teach them that the true ways to live are through drugs and violence, despite imprisoning them for doing these very things. And, meanwhile, the rich fucks sit in their castles and on capital hill, feeding the monster. They sedate us with rhetoric, empty promises, materialism, and consumerism. They tell us what we need is a new pair of shoes, the next episode of a 'reality' tv show, or the next big fad--and WE BELIEVE THEM! We agree! Nevermind that what we need is to end genocide, end the testing of 'medicines' that kill AIDS patients in Africa, end poverty and homelessness at home, end domestic violence, racism, and corruption, promote peace and equality and beauty and love, and have the liberty of life and property, our freedoms once promised to us. Nevermind that we don't really believe what they tell us, but we like to pretend we do.

We accept our bread and circuses while Rome burns around us. We accept the 'this, too, shall pass' mentality, without lifting a finger to change our situation.

We accept a leader that lies. We know there are no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Yet, we are still there, killing and getting killed. We accept the War on Terror as a means to lesson our fears, when the fear we feel is given to us by terrorists within our own borders, sitting in 'elected' offices, presiding over us like tyrants. Tell me, do you feel safe? Do these vile creatures make you feel safe where you sit right here, right now? Do you accept what you are told... like a dog that obeys an abusive master? Do you feel safe knowing our leaders are breaking the law? Do you feel safe? How can you?

I don't feel safe, and I am worried.

I truly believe that, indeed, WE ARE THE OPPRESSED PEOPLE. NOT GAYS ONLY, NOT WOMEN ONLY, NOT MINORITIES ONLY, NOT JUST THE POOR, THE SICK, THE SCARED, OR THE WEAK. ALL OF US THAT ARE CONSTANTLY TOLD, IN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, THAT WE ARE NOT THE ONES IN POWER, AND THAT THE ONES WITH POWER KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR US. WE ARE THE IMMEDIATE CHECK ON OUR LEADERS, AND WE ARE IGNORING OUR DUTY TO REMOVE THEM AS IS NECESSARY. WE OUTNUMBER THEM. IT DOESN'T MATTER YOUR GENDER, SEXUALITY, RACE, OR CREED. WE ARE BEING LIED TO. WE ARE BEING FOOLED, SUPPRESSED, SEDATED, AND IGNORED. WE, AND ONLY WE, CAN KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR US. WE STAND HERE, NOW, ON A LEDGE WITH A CHOICE WE MUST MAKE. IT IS NOW, NOT LATER, THAT WE MUST FIGHT BACK. THERE WILL BE A TIME, IF LEFT UNRESOLVED, THAT THIS POWER WE DO POSSESS WILL BE TAKEN AWAY. WE CANNOT LET OURSELVES BE SUBDUED. WE CANNOT IGNORE THIS. WE CANNOT REMAIN SILENT.
Something must be done.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

The G* Spot Weblog Award v.2


To accomodate the numerious email request to extend the voting time of the G* Spot Weblog Award, Sponsors of the program decided to have a monthly award instead of the weekly award both for the Story Blog Category and Photo/Video Blog.

Thus, the voting time for the nominees for this G* Spot Blog of the Month will be extended till the end of the month.

Next month another combined list of nominees will be set from the different weblogs accross the globe. Winner's will still be determined by the highest vote garnered in the voting period.

Again, the voting phase at THE G* SPOT WEBLOG AWARD is a public and open process -- so take a look at all the blogs that are finalists -- you just might find some amazing and thought provoking (and often sexy) new reads.

Unlike in the Weekly Award wherein the public is only allowed to vote once, The Monthly Award will be open to votes daily and still, the public will be allowed to cast in multiple votes.

Finalist for the Blog of the Month will be notified thru their email address and/or thru their respective blogs and will be provided with a finalist button that they put in their blogs.

Monthly winner/s will be elevated to be an automatic finalist in the year end to battle it out for the The G* Spot Weblog of the Year.






Monday, January 08, 2007

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Death of Summer and Dawn


He watched as the other breathed, chest rising and falling in slow harmony. The blankets were cast off below entangled legs, leaving them both exposed to the depths of the room's darkness. Outside, he knew, the stars were starting to fade, one by one, giving sign to the coming dawn. The end.

He brought his fingers gently over his lover's forehead, pushing some stray hair out of his closed eyes. There was the shortest of moments where his breathing stopped and the fingers ceased, afraid that he would wake. No, it would be better this way.

* * *

He held his hand, eyes red and dry from hours of crying. The only sounds came from the bleeping and chirping of the monitors next to his bed. He felt cold and distant, as if his soul had already left his body and him far behind. He didn't want to think about that though.

His fingers slid up and over her clammy skin, hoping that, just maybe, each caress might help keep him here. That it might jolt some part of his sleeping mind and wake him. If he could just remember that there were people here who cared for him more than he could ever know. A sigh, not of defeat, but of utter helplessness slipped past his lips. He pulled his eyes off him comatose form. Outside the sky was still dotted with blinking lights.

* * *

Hours before now heat had risen off these sheets, giving way to sweat and heartache. Both knew what this was. Now though, he remained still, trying his hardest not to open his eyes. He knew that he was being watched; that nothing he could do would keep him here. And it tore at him. So he remained quiet, breathing as if he had been asleep this entire time. He knew that a long goodbye, or any goodbye, would only result in more pain.

A cramp forming in his stomach urged him to move. He brought his body closer to the form next to him. It startled the other, for he felt the legs that had been tangled close flee. No, no, no...

* * *

He was somewhere else. On the beach. The moon was high in the midnight sky. The wind blew in perfect tempo, carrying the perfect temperature. The night was perfect. He blinked, not quite knowing where he was or why. The last thing he remembered as one more drink and a hasty...

He came up from behind him, strong arms encasing him in a protective shell. His eyes closed and he brought his head back to rest against his chest. From beneath hisz shirt, skin, tissue and bone he could hear his heart throb. For the first time since this had started, he felt safe; felt like he belonged.

"It's beautiful out tonight," he found himself saying, not yet opening his eyes. But she could still see the ripples of the ocean in the distant, illuminated by the pearly light of the moon. Behind her, behind him, mountains rose high. Palm trees swayed and beyond that more of Paradise expanded.

He could feel him smile. "You're beautiful," he said, his head coming down to one side of his neck. He nuzzled his flesh against his, hands sliding over his exposed stomach. A breeze brushed past them both, tickling their senses.

His hands came to rest atop his. "I don't want this night to end." His lips pressed up against his neck. "Come back to me."

His lips curled into a curious smile. It always seemed to make him laugh when he got all funny like this. He wasn't going anywhere. He was standing right with him.

"I'm not going anywhere baby," he said, craning his neck, giving him access to more of his skin. "I'm right here."

And that was when he felt heat on his wrist. Not the sensation of warmth like the sun, but thick, hot heat. Liquid heat. His eyes snapped open and Paradise cried.

* * *

He let his legs withdraw from his partner's, sliding over the edge of the mattress. Outside the window he could begin to make out the colors of dawn. Time, he thought, made a cruel bedfellow. That's all he wanted. More time to lay here, entangled and entranced. More time to trace shapes and patterns over whatever bare skin he could get a hold of. More time to show him that he cared, that he didn't want to leave, that life wasn't all bad. That love, this thing that they had, didn't have to end.

But it was all useless. He pulled himself up off the mattress and the pillows, gently putting the rest of the blankets over his sleeping companion. Ever so slowly he came up off the bed, standing. The room seemed to spin for a moment as he readjusted himself to standing. It had been an amazing night.

He pulled his jeans on and grabbed a shirt. As he started to pull it on, he looked back to the other one dozing. Lost in a dream world, perhaps trying to hang onto this a little longer. And he would let him. There would be no kiss goodbye. Just the sun, a shut door and the open road.

* * *

It all came rushing back to him. The drinks, the fight, the half-attempt at make-up sex and the betrayal. The music in the background. The candles. The tile on the bathroom floor had been cold and inviting for him in this state. With a shaky hand he vowed it over and made his marks.

"Jesus..." Somehow, he knew, He probably wasn't coming for him. Moaning, he found herself stepping forward out of his embrace. "I..."

He said nothing, just watched him with those sad eyes of his, tears having stained his cheeks. For once he was at a loss for words, feeling useless.

He brought his wrists up to his face and saw his own vindication. This was not real. None of this could be happening. Not to him. He loved him and he loved him. No. That wasn't quite right. Otherwise, why would he be standing here in this place?

"I'm sorry," he started to say for the thousandth time. To him it rang hollow in his own head. Those words had probably lost all meaning with him, after all, he had used them so many times. "he meant nothing."

"It didn't seem like that at the time," he said, arms dropping to his sides as he turned to face him. Now his own eyes started to cloud with tears.

"Please, you have to understand, you're all that I want." He took a step toward him, hand outstretched before his, as if he could just grasp him and keep him here.

He nodded, tears falling around the curves of his face. He wanted to tell him that he was all he ever wanted. That he forgave him for the other man. For all the lies. For all the torment that he had put him through. But instead, all he could muster was, "Now that you know you can't have me? Now that you realize the damage has been done?"

That one hurt. He winced and his hand fell. His head hung low as he looked at the sand, feet shifting. He knew she was partially right, but somewhere in all the lies he had told, deep down he wanted only him.

"I love you. You have to believe me..." He looked up, eyes red, yet hopeful.

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He did not cry.

"It's too late. I've got to go..."

He came at his on unsteady feet, body shaking. "No, please..."

He shook his head and stepped back. His body felt heavy, as if the pressure in all the world was coming down on him at once. His legs started to go numb.

"Please, no, come back. Don't leave me..." He stumbled forward and fell onto his knees. At his barest and honest. "I...need you!"

For once he looked at him and knew that he meant it. It helped. He smiled the faintest of smiles and cried. "I'm on a different path now baby... This is my exit."

His head sunk. Fingers grasped the dirt, tears wet it. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

* * *

It took everything he had not to get up and take him in his arms. Tell him not to leave. To stay for just an hour longer. Just an hour. Maybe that would make a difference. But he knew it wouldn’t. It was over and they were both going their separate ways. As much as he hated the idea; hated the thought that there would now be a space between them.

When the other had gotten up out of bed, everything felt so cold, despite the fact he now had the entire blanket for himself. There was no body heat, no contact. He had his heart stolen and it wouldn't be found. He felt his teeth sink into his lower lip to fight the whelp of a cry. To fight the tears damming up behind his eyelids. It was if this night had been written to some Dashboard song. He almost laughed then. But he didn't want to give himself away.

There was a rustle and he knew that he was putting on his clothes. One more step and he would be gone. But there was nothing that could be done. Not now. He gripped the blankets close to him, as if they could ever be a replacement for what he had.

It would never be the same. Light started to filter through the curtains of the window. Just a few more minutes was all he wanted. Despair choked him and he could no longer handle it. He opened his eyes and the water was released. Wait... He blinked, adjusting his eyes to the dim light of a room that wasn't quite bright with light, but not pitch black.

He could see well enough to know that he was finally alone.

* * *

His fingers squeezed her hand tighter now. He could feel it coming. Like when he rode a roller coaster and knew that they were coming to the top, getting ready to go over the edge. He would be scared at first, but after the initial panic and the rush came, it all was right. But now, there was just foreboding and the thought that he would never see him alive again. That he would no longer smile for him, dance around in the morning or tell him that he loved him. No one else, none of the other man he had been with, ever had done that.

How stupid he had been. He brought his head down to his side and cried. He felt his tears wetting the hospital blanket. His cries muffled by the fabric. He was out there on his own, swimming in the deep ocean, lost and adrift. He could do nothing.

"I love you, I love you, I love..." He recited it over and over through hushed sobs, hoping that it might do something, anything.

* * *

He was on his back. Floating. His hair was spread out beside him, as were his arms. He was naked as the sun started to rise, sending rays of light over his figure. He tilted his head back and could see nothing but an endless expanse of ocean. Beneath him, he knew without having to look, that it went down and down, infinite and never ending. There was no going back now. He almost wanted to cry, but felt like it wouldn't be the right thing to do.

No. He had a feeling of peace. He had been loved and loved someone in return. He would move on, he knew, and that was it. He closed her eyes and breathed her last ounce of breath. Then he sank into the deep, never looking back.

* * *

His head snapped up when the monitors started blaring. The door burst open and people in white charged. There was shouting. There was hurried movements. Terms he did not know spun in his head. But it all added up to one thing: his life. He stepped back, not sure what to do. Not sure that this was actually happening. Everything went hazy and he stumbled against the wall.

One of the people, dressed in a white coat, turned and gave him a grave look. The doctor shook his head and then turned back to his staff. He opened his mouth and reported the time of death. Everything about them was mechanical. They didn't really care.

Only he cared. He sunk to the ground, knees coming up to his chest. He buried his head and cried. The sun was up. Dawn had come. And he would never dance for him again.

* * *

He stepped outside to be greeted by the rising sun. He looked down at his shoes and the sidewalk in a vain attempt to tear his mind away from what he was about to do. He could just as easily turn around, call the whole thing off and crawl back into bed. But it wasn't going to work like that. Not today.

With a sigh and shake of his head, he got into his car. He put the key in the ignition. He told himself to say everything that he had to do. It would keep him from thinking about the boy inside the house, about the boy he was leaving behind. He turned the key. If this had been a movie, he thought, then it wouldn't have started. It was have struggled a bit, flared to life for a moment and then died. Leaving him with no choice but to go back inside. Sadly, it didn't work out that way. The car roared to life with an almost unexpected vigor.

He gave the house one last look. The car was put into reverse and he backed out of the driveway. Spinning the wheel, he turned out onto the road. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four.

He went on his way and never looked back. Both had to go on with their lives. From his pocket, he felt his phone vibrate. He held back a cry. Summer was at an end.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Ang LadLad: A Call for Help

Its a brand new year, there is a mist of a brand new hope for all of us especially for the LGBT community here in the country.
Here is a letter from Danton Remoto, Chairman of Ang Ladlad, the national organization of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) Filipinos. This is especially being sent to overseas Filipino gays, an appeal for support to Ang Ladlad’s goal of seating gay representatives in Congress. If this is your cup of tea, please read on.
Letter from Danton

Dear Friends Overseas,

I am asking you to help Ang Ladlad in its projects and possible electoral campaign to gain three seats in Congress in May 2007. We are seen as a strong party that just might seat three LGBT people in Congress. But we need funds, especially when the political campaign begins on February 13, 2007. Specifically, we need funds for the following major expenses:

1. Airfare and transportation expenses of candidates to the major cities in the country;

2. T-shirts, tarpaulins, streamers, buttons, and other publicity materials;

3. Production of brochures, flyers, handbills, and posters; and

4. Office expenses.

Therefore, I am making an appeal to our Fil-American, Fil-Canadian, and Filipinos based overseas to help us raise funds. You may contact Doni Santos at donisantos.angladlad@gmail.com for details on how to send us your financial donations. The US $100 I am asking each of you to send us will be a big boost in our campaign.

This is now our chance to prove our worth, show our strength, walk the talk.

Let us bring ANG LADLAD to CONGRESS! Mabuhay po tayong lahat!


Cheers,

Danton