So I said “Fuck you all” and left
I said, “To find my cool. Somewhere along the way, I fucking lost it---” which made him laugh, of course.
I lost it and have been reduced to hormonal outbursts of screams and tears, rage and fears; to this sickening kindness to idiots and this draining patience to explain what is obvious or should have been known. And all for the sake of this cloying love-fest and peace.
Are we required to be in the 1960’s?
In the domestic airport, waiting to board my flight to Caticlan, I started laughing---
remembering----
Yeah, fuck you universe.
The universe from Thursday to Sunday morning was Boracay:
Sleep
to the sounds Selena makes when she sleeps. She had apologized which I brushed aside: they are normal, even cute and I mean little consistent sounds which you make if you have asthma.
Besides
if you want to hear *snoring*, sleep in the same room with my best friend Monkey one night: *monster* and you would want to slap the *snoring!*monster!* awake or smother the *snoring monster!* with a pillow.
Yeah, I slept with Selena.
Woken
On Thursday night by the constant buzzing of Selena’s phone: “Busy ang career ng phone mo ha?”
On Friday morning by the need to be ready by 9 am for the hotel shuttle to the main beach of civilization. If we miss the shuttle we have to walk through the planet Mars.
On Saturday morning by the buzz of the doorbell, an attendant from the Panoly restaurant inquiring about the payment for the coffee I had ordered the morning before. Selena said, “Can you just tell the front desk?” Hello?
On Saturday morning by a pregnancy test that said, “I am not pregnant! Good morning!”
On Sunday at almost 3 in the morning by Selena to “Excuse me, this is our video!”: the Ang Bandang Shirley video playing in MYX, the theme song from the movie “Endo”.
I was woken every night because Selena just couldn’t get enough of my body. That hot woman is insatiable.
Eat
Hotel-priced dishes that would impoverish then starve the budget-tourist. Really, almost 300 pesos for a Katsudon? Ah, the egg used is from the goose that lays golden eggs.
Sea-food-group: I had asked Selena, “Are you sure you’re not allergic to these?” She said, “Yeah” and went about eating the sea monsters.
The antipasti from Aria: a staple in every Bora visit, try it. It’s only 450 pesos and after you’re transformed into a gorgeous Italian.
The ever-reliable Andok’s chicken, liempo, chop suey--- finally, we could eat ‘til impacho and not bitch about how pricey impacho is.
A plateful of oysters which was good for that rabadonkey romp with Selena.
Selena said while in bed, “Ang sarap nun oysters.”
I said while in bed, “And sarap mo.”
*More orgasmic giggling*
Drink
They don’t serve tap water in the restaurants, the servers said (except in Aria). You have to buy the bottled water. I guess the locals in Bora don’t drink water.
Mango shake, mango shake and more mango shake.
Beer, rum coke and tequila: recipe for a crying spree, especially because this deck-head had sent Selena a message and I got so pissed off. Hell, the fucker didn’t know how to play the game that he wanted to play. He’s just crass and he said so.
I was just jealous, really, that’s why I cried which made Selena kiss my tears then my mouth and then we went to bed and made out.
After that, no more booze for us: gorilla hangover.
Talk
Science (sex), Psychology (men), Sociology (dating), Astrology (love), History (life) and
whatever we talked about is none of the nosy-bugger’s business.
Tidbit: men are fuckers.
Tidbit: I told Selena, “I didn’t get you pregnant. Shucks.”
Tidbit: Selena asked, “What’s so special about a banana boat?”
I said, “There’s a (big) banana between your thighs.”
Sunbathe
“Selena, turn.”
“Selena! Get out of the water!”
“Selena, put on more sunblock.”
“Selena, look at that hot guy.”
“Selena, look at that hot woman.”
“You do me and I do you?” [Undulating to sunblock application.]
I love sunbathing with a woman: no male companions to make me feel so conscious or growl at people with eyes or wrap a towel or a sarong around me as soon as I get out of the water.
It was just all about women and being worshipped by the sun; you wouldn’t care if men are checking you out.
Yeah, with my body thee worship.
Swim
With the fishes in ankle-deep water while belting Ariel-the–little-mermaid-aria: no kidding.
With the waves in Panoly that wanted to take our bikini bottoms.
While trying to baptize and dunk each other: more lesbo-romp.
Be Meat
“Yum-yum”
“Hot”
“Yo, yo, yo, don’t fall in love”
Really, it’s normal to leer and salivate at so much beauty in Bora (we even saw Jesus Christ in trunks strut his stuff while playing Frisbee) and expect the same to be done to you subtly or overtly.
It does wonders for your self-esteem to be just seen as a body with humps and bumps: meat.
Really, if someone looks at you with that “I-want-to-eat-you-look”, of course you would feel desirable or beautiful.
As in, ganda mo and ang haba ng hair mo.
And Farmer Jericho, the local concierge/driver/loverboy of Panoly, said to me (when I thanked him for taking care of us--- as guests---:
“
HINDI OK, HINDI, NOH, NOH THANKS, HINDIIIIIIIIIIIII POH!
Be Lesbo for Selena
I asked her to strip in front of me.
I applied lotion all over her.
I slapped her naked ass several times.
Yeah…
What can I say?
*Smile* We’re just friends*
So I got my cool back: all it took was being meat and being totally lesbo--- a story which I thought should be shared to Budoy.
He--- my Padre Damaso--- just loves meat and lesbos.
And by the way, we got everything on video.
1 comment:
ang galiiing! now that's what i call CREATIVE non-fiction :D
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