Friday, July 12, 2002

We were soaked for it poured horse and cow piss. UST has again transmogrified into one giant island that left huge throngs of drenched students and agitated commuters scurrying for cover. For most of us, who've been accustomed to occasional wading, through the deep Thomasian ocean, rain meant excitement, and thrill. And for every exciting and thrilling experience, there's surely one unforgettable incident that shall always remind me in the future. For this day, this is it:


Place: Inundated Goldilocks Laong-Laan. Time: Around 7 p.m. All of us had to get to the other sidewalk. But that entailed trudging the ankle-deep murky waters and passing through a narrow strip of gutter, which at that time, posed as the sole access to the other side.

And so we took turns. Roused by the adventure we would be getting into, I was the first one to step forward. Being scrawny but agile, nimble and all, I was able to cross the blasted flood through that constricting piece of elevated cement. (Hey, being paper-thin is not bad after all.)

Ruth, too was able to get through that shithole (don't ask me how she did it. I could not believe it either.) And then came Pam's turn.

Something I wouldn't miss for the world.

I was running my fingers through my wet and icky hair while watching Pam struggle. Unfortunately, the perky vegetarian was not so perky that moment. And so she got stuck--- a few inches just above the waters' reach and a huge attention-grabbing sight for everyone to witness.

Just imagine her, looking cramped at the edge of the gutter and probably sticking her face against the steel stanchion that kept her from falling and plunging into the putrid waters--- symmetrically dividing her body with her left hand painfully gripping the other steel post, holding on to dear life. What surprised me was that she was actually having fun, despite being stuck there without having plans of asking for help. Or maybe she was just too busy giggling. I could not figure out.

She seemed as if she were Spiderwoman, and a wall-climbing ability gone wrong.

I thought I've read it all, but this takes the cake. Excerpts from Like Being Killed :

"I'm not done with you yet."

... then he fucked me with a gun. It was warm and wet from my mouth, and it felt hardly more mechanical than the average penis. Ho Bum. After a while, he shifted it slightly, held it still, fixing it in one place, and I waited in panic--- panic that he would, panic that he wouldn't--- but he didn't fire. I had seen the gun-in-the-pussy trick before, too, in books and movies and magazines. His imagination was failing.

I didn't enjoy having the gun up in my ass, but I had expected it. The plumber was obsessed with my anus and ass-fucking to a degree that made me doubt his heterosexuality. He fucked me with it for a while, then he just held it inside, pushed to the hilt, unmoving. I imagined that he was positioning it accurately. It hurt, a lot, but I kept telling myself that after this I would enjoy permanent relief from pain, bodily and otherwise...When he finished butt-fucking me with the gun, he brought it towards my lips. Not this routine again. I thought about the oral-fecal route of hepatitis. I kept forgetting that soon I wouldn't have to worry anymore.

I sucked the gun, and sucked and sucked and licked and kissed and suck some more.

I sucked for a long time.

First Night

Touch the tenderness of innocence
Taste the sourness of the first blood
Feel the warmth of breath gushing out of the parted lips
Experience the throbbing of the fresh and the virginal
Now in your hands
Now in your control.

Behind those lips you shall explore
The new found beauty waiting to be exhumed.
As you enter the well-kept forbidden
You shall find what you have been longing for:
The heaven your heart mellifluously speaks of
That exists years after the spouting of the first blood.

White Elephant

Today I saw the mountain weep
And bow down on its knees
To taste the sourness of the earth
And slug down the bitter pill of humiliation
Like a cowering prey
At the mercy of his devourer
Imploring a quick and painless death.

Today I witnessed the heavens opened,
And out a mighty god was kicked down,
I watched as he plummeted from the clear blue skies
Faster and faster, head first.

Ruthie, start scratching your head and commence thinking.

Tuesday, July 9, 2002

Three straight days without blogging. Yes, I'm the traitor, I'm the culprit, I'm the stupid twerp who should be burned at stake for deliberately stalling the spirit of blogging, shoot me, now. Pam probably thinks I'm losing my mind. A day without blogging is like hell. Passing for two days is still tolerable. Three days, and you're putting your health on hazardous grounds. Honestly, I didn't even realize it until Pam phoned me up just to let out a startling discovery. Maybe because I got so engrossed for the past few days over the book I still am reading. The plot seems to be getting more complicated so I thought of not leaving it until the plot ended. Eventually my eyes were getting strained already from the small size of the fonts, which made me put it down and rest for a while. You know, one of the biggest criterion for me when it comes to shopping for books is the font style and its size. I don't really give a fuzz about its cover, nor the title, even the author. Okay maybe a little. I really hate it when the letters are so compressed and jam-packed into one page that from afar, you could almost form images in your head (like it could pass as three-dimensional design). Or the ones with lots of spaces where you can even scrawl between the lines detailed explanation of whatever's being discussed in the text. Oftentimes, it would make you even wonder why it was placed under the Gen. Fiction instead of the Children's Story Books section.
Four hours ago, I got a copy of Wuthering Heights. Since the bookstore was ready to close, I didn't have much time to thoroughly examine the copy. For P69.00, I thought I have saved a lot. But the moment I skim through a couple of pages, everything changed. Small font, bleary print, cheap recycled paper. I could not get angry or have the strength to throw the book out of my window. Maybe because I realized I was too stupid not to wonder why it was sold at a very low price. Very wrong.

Tuesday, July 9, 2002

For a change, I had tuyo for breakfast. I never thought I would be able to eat that kind of food since I'd shunned it all my life. It was only until we ate at Tapa King when I really appreciated the brackish taste of it. Actually, I'm beginning to enjoy it. But I'm not saying it's gonna be a staple part of my diet. Not in a million years.