Paperbag Boy

Benjamin.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 19:02:00 +0000

Mmmm whatcha say, mmm that you only meant well?
Well of course you did.

Mmmm whatcha say, mmmm that it's all for the best?
Of course it is.

-- - --

H, this is the second time you've done this. Was the hurt from the first time not enough for you?

You're a dear friend to me. I would be pained to see you get hurt, so I am only trying my best to watch out for you. If you don't care in return, I have wouldn't care either.

To D, it has been more than half a year of endless phone calls, smses, constant bugging on MSN from you. Your declaration of unconditional love and other silly things, perhaps the most silly was that "night where my fantasy came true". I got drunk and you took care of me, that was declared as the happiest moments of your life as quoted by you.

You've been calling me your "baby" which I have resisted profusely but at your insistence I gave in.

6 whole months of this silliness from you and you have a change of heart in 24 hours of meeting him. I am so glad I didn't give in to anything further.

What the fuck.

-- - --

Last night I looked up at your face as I was lying on your abdomen, sighing contently. You look so much like him, I couldn't resist but to plant a slight kiss on your strong jaw. As we watched Family Guy, we laughed together at the absurd nature, the in-between hidden sarcasm of the cheap jokes. You are certainly a bright individual, just like him.

But unlike him, your innocence, your awkwardness, it painfully reminds me that you are not him, despite the uncanny resemblance in appearance.

I clung onto your broad shoulders and slowly eased your lips into a deep kiss. "Did you like that?", I asked. "Want to do it again?". I felt your tongue and lips eating hungrily at mine.

Later I found out that it was your first time kissing another person.

At your request your skilled fingers massaged my body, as I looked longingly at you, taking in your well built physique and your cheesy, cute grin, I closed my eyes and was momentarily transported back two years ago. An inevitable tear rolled down my cheek.

-- - --

Two nights ago I looked up at your face and caught you looking at me. I kissed your cheek and you responded with sarcasm, "wow, I get a kiss". I gave you a dirty look and snuggled closer to you, as you closed your arms around my back holding me in a tight embrace.

I was reminded of why I was so attracted to you as your lips ran over my neck and softly bit at my skin. Your small frame moved with experience against mine, we fell asleep of exhaustion at last, in each other's arms.

I long gave up trying to understand. What those nights meant, were they of any meaning at all? But that night, I felt your heart soften up, your eyes were sending a different message. But too late, I discarded your feelings just like how you discarded mine from the beginning. I hope you felt that same ache in your heart, the same way it tormented me.

Hello, 2010.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 19:22:00 +0000

New years eve was nothing, meaningless and pretty much full of shit.

Me: at the end of the day im still left with nothing anyway
Slam: clubbing is like that
Slam: Fun is always empty

Life works in strange ways, recently it has been rather ironic.

Firstly, a series of events has led me to believe that perhaps I'll be more lucky with love if I looked more like a top. Or maybe I just have this magnetism that attracts bottoms... which doesn't really work out for me because I lack the physical qualities that bottoms are naturally attracted to.

Also, I've been talking to K a lot more recently. As a side effect, it compels me to write on Paperbag Boy again, right after I write the epilogue (talking to him was what made me feel like I should tie up things). I won't pressure myself into writing, but some of the kick is back. We've both grown up so much in the past 2 years.

-- - --
In retrospect, 2009 was definitely a year of a lot of new experiences both good and bad that taught me a lot in life and made me into a better person, as cliche and corny as that sounds. The past year has been a social explosion for me, never have I imagined I would be part of some of the parties or events that happened. It has made me realize that a lot of opportunities are there, just have to grasp them, be friendly and charming.

Typing this at 3am in the night and thinking about things that happened in the past year would certainly drive anyone into a state of melancholic nostalgia. In lieu of being detailed, it is time to sleep. A lot of posts on PBB end in a similar way I realize.

Good night.

Epilogue

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 21:40:00 +0000

When I first started Paperbag Boy, it was to serve one purpose only: to spew much of my own mental insanity into a tangible form. By doing so it forces my lazy brain to structure otherwise haphazard thought into a more organized state, albeit still, well, fucked up.

It hardly counts for journalism. Those who study the craft would probably scoff at the magnitude of inane pitfalls my "style of writing", if it can even be called as such, befalls: plot lines with no end, twists with no reason, use of localized terms which probably can be substituted, it goes on.

But then it has led to the inspiration of more than a select few, I know for a fact the existence of this blog serves as a guide and along the way I have earned some admiration.

A few days ago I was at the local Times bookstore flipping through a book which analyzes Steve Jobs' way of using language to as a tool to his tremendous benefit (his success would have never been if not for his charisma, not discounting his other qualities but they go hand in hand).

The last three paragraphs you have just read are filled to the brim with weasel words, buzzwords and the like, something the book strongly discourages against for driving a message across to the masses because most of the words don't really mean anything.

I guess what I am trying to put across is that I write to not an audience, or "for my readers", but for myself, and yet, I am breaking that only rule I have, for I am addressing my audience. Of which a lot of the posts on this blog does, reading back a few.

Because of this expectation, the frequency of posts on PBB have dwindled not to just a trickle but as a dam blocking flow altogether. Therefore I would think it is apt to pronounce an epilogue to a blog of which was once a free flow of thought.

I will be back. But before we take leave, let's end with a tale.

-- - --

Christmas this year started off with a hint of wanting from a boy to spend the night together at his place, a week before. It then got canceled, not due to anyone's fault but of the boy for his indifference, which stems from the veil he protects himself under, the armor he puts on to resist emotional damage which I am sure he has been subject to way too much of his caliber in his life of 21 years so far.

I was rather insistent on spending it with him, as though I will never admit to his face, I do have feelings for him. Therefore his indifference in the whole matter caused pain, for I do not want to appear weak by pester or annoy him into solidifying the plan. His indifference is that of the "fuck I don't care", "I don't give a shit" attitude, it sucks really.

I got impatient, although he was remorseful of his attitude towards the occasion, even offering to treat me to "Christmas dinner" (which might not seem as much but coming from him, it is very significant), I decided to forgo the plan and perform the gay ritual on public holidays: club.

As Christmas approached this year, I repeatedly told myself I didn't want to spend it in a meaningless way: by clubbing and the usual that happens with that. I desperately wanted to find a deeper reason to stay up to the 12am on the 24th, not because the crowd starts moving at 12 to the music, Play's invitation to dance, and waste away the night playing with the tips of tongues of bare acquaintances.

Which is exactly how Christmas eve turned out, of course.

I got very drunk, and despite several (3, to be exact) cute guys' friendly approaches of sexual gratification, I stuck around the outside of Maxwell House, lying with a botak friend admiring the clouds until the sun came up. It was a painful experience as with any other post-Club Sunday morning: waiting for the alcohol to pass through, you feel your organs writhing in resistance. I told my friend that I won't be clubbing for at least a year.

Two nights later I found myself in front of Play again.

The antics of that night was worthy of theatrical merit, nothing lost, but perhaps gained by the experiences of interacting with a ...different sort of crowd. Lazy to type.

Good night.

Money shot

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 11:35:00 +0000

It's funny how the word "fun" has become synonymous with sex.

So has these words/phrases: "anything", "hang out", and "how are you?".

God.

We met MK

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 22:38:00 +0000

I'm your biggest fan
I'll follow you until you love me

Promise I'll be kind
But I won't stop until that boy is mine

Baby you'll be famous
Chase you down until you love me

-- - --

Not much is new. The same age old routine. J & friends came down for the weekend, it was very fun. Will not club in coming weeks though, very tired of the scene in general.

Much more sex recently than usual. Been somewhat of a top recently.

I'm working on my people skills. Sunshine, sunshine and more sunshine. No more dark gloomy and sad.

Well, just sometimes.

Boys, them straight boys.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 17:53:00 +0000

Give it up. He's straight.

But he's just so adorable. I don't have to block out his friendly advancements do I?

...do I? Sigh.

Carlos, meet my straight side.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 20:05:00 +0000

S, and now R.

I gotta appeal to a more mainstream crowd. In order to achieve this I must limit my creative freedom with my dressing.

No more JC de Castelbajac or Jeremy Scott inspired outfits.

Speaking of Scott, this fries fabric from his Fall 2006 would make an incredibly interesting shirt:

...Dang.

Kenneth

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 20:55:00 +0000

I'm currently hooked on Miley Cyrus' "See You Again". I can't help it, the chorus is so damn catchy! Blame PLAY for mixing it into the playlist.

Also, is making out/having sex in clubs such an infrequent, rare thing? I was under the impression that so much people do it, so why is it such a surprise when it does happen? Ugh, so some cute guy was blowing me in the cubicle. Why so much drama.

Journey Milestone

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 01:28:00 +0000

I looked at myself in the mirror this morning and said to myself after realizing something while staring at my reflection:

You've come a long way.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 10:26:00 +0000

That you were Romeo and you were throwing pebbles
And my daddy said stay away from Juliet;

And I was crying on the staircase
Begging you
Please don't go...

And I said, Romeo take me somewhere so we can be alone
I'll be waiting all that's left to do is run
You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby just say yes.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 20:51:00 +0000

Listening to: I Hate This Part (Dave Aude Radio Edit) - Pussycat Dolls

I've long memorized the lyrics to this song, it has become iconic to me as much as "Fashionista". I remember the first Saturday it was played as part of the prelude to the main dance tracks, which only begins at 1am.

It was that very same night I met B. I was in short, very short white shorts, but not short enough to be hot pants. H had commented that they were too short. I smiled, ignoring the comment, adjusting the white braces and the almost royal blue shirt I was wearing with it. B was with E then, they had met at a sauna earlier, as I found out much later.

The next time I saw B was the St. James finale a few good months later, in the "flyer queue" with R, who had miraculously, and rather stupidly, forgot that he had membership rights, which would have enabled us access to the VIP lane. It was E who first got B's attention, having mistook him for a schoolmate of his. F, in all his kiasu attitude, had already got ahead of our little entourage in the queue, for he can't stand to be behind me in anything at all, no doubt he forced himself upon some poor guy.

I didn't recognize B. In fact, I had little recollection of his existence at that point in time. B said hi, do you remember me, and graciously reintroduced himself. B was with Mr. Poppers, who later had himself a little orgy with two of my, rather desperate, acquaintances. At the same sauna B met H.

That was the start of our little performance of jealous hearts that night, one worthy of theatrical merit.

But the part B played did not stop with that night, it went on...

Feel the beat inside your feet, do your best to get the rest

Up and down, around around; Till the sun, above the ground

Follow me and we'll be free, it's the groove to make you move

Raise your hands up in the air, do it like you just don't care!

Don't you wanna dance? Do you wanna dance?

C'mon, take a chance, baby, won't you dance?

Powerhouse, I really miss you.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 05:10:00 +0000

Suddenly, I felt liberated and free.

To lift all responsibility and just blindly follow instructions... to be sought after... I don't want to have a mind of my own, just throw me around, assume me to be a puppet and take control.

I like that.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 08:49:00 +0000

So after 2 years, Fabulous Sundays is no more. The last time (ironically not a sunday) ...was more than awesome.

Thanks everyone for all those past sunday nights.

St. James, Powerhouse. You'll be dearly missed...

All I wanna do is stay right here on the floor
Get lost in the night
And dance like there's no tomorrow
Don't care about the sunrise
Somebody please just hit the lights
All I wanna do is dance like there's no tomorrow

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 18:47:00 +0000

I think it's relatively hurting to your ego when you take someone out and he tells you that, "Oh, maybe we're better off being friends".

Sigh.

At least I know I'm not exactly doing everything wrong.

While we were strolling down Orchard today we got stopped by a lady asking if she could "interview" us, with her was a team of a few students with an expensive HD cam with Leica lens.

The guy I was out with was hesitant, I, of course, had no qualms about appearing in front of a video camera, much less one that is gonna be shown during the upcoming Youth Olympic Games.

The lady then said to her crew, "You know what, just interview the cool guy", motioning to me.

At least I'm doing something right.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 16:07:00 +0000

As I grow older over time, the less prone to my parent's guilt inducing tactics to get me to do something, I have become.

The solace of which is anonymity.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 15:32:00 +0000

Hello people, here I am once again.

A lot has changed since I last posted, a very significant amount if I do say so myself.

I re-watched Mean Girls today.

Damn, I forgot what I wanted to write. There's probably too much to write about anyway.

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 03:20:00 +0000

Have you heard that joke about Mas Selamat, the most-wanted terrorist fugitive who escaped from detention in Singapore? His wanted posters are everywhere in Singapore.

Mas Selamat is in Malaysia. Because when you enter Malaysia, it says Selamat Datang.

Quotable quotes of the week

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 04:11:00 +0000

But I'm not completely unfortunate looking la

— K, on looks

I think I'm an occasional believer

— D, on religion

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 08:01:00 +0000

I've never went after someone in a really serious way before and the mild attempts at doing so have always been met with failure.

So when the need to do so arises, I'll admit I'm terrible at it. So I'm going to start a campaign to observe how the guys that go after me behave so I can get some ideas. Haha.

Also is it weird when I close my eyes I see Guitar Hero notes?

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 11:18:00 +0000

After telling my friends, some of them asked me "when did you find out?" or "how long have you known?". Those seemed like the strangest questions, as if they thought that you learned your sexuality by a letter in the mail or something.

I know right? Or it sounds like we got adopted or something and found out we are like some other race? How come they don't ask this question when I tell them "I'm Chinese" "when did you find out?" or "how long have you known?" LOL

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 18:17:00 +0000

D: haha you're good looking in a different way from daryl pan
Me: really
Me: you mean, opposite
Me: hahaha
D: no la. haha
D: the looks not the same genre, for the lack of a better word
Me: hahaha, thanks then :)
D: =)

Look at that. So honest, so sincere, so sweet. It makes my heart melt.

No time lah

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 17:09:00 +0000

Not bad right? I am loving school for the first time in my life so far

Although much pain and time were devoted to the production of this particular photo shoot (for school).

Not much news on the gay side of things as of late, really. This might, or might not be a good thing.

There's this guy I'm interested in but:

1. He lives far away
2. He doesn't go to the same school
3. I don't think I have anything in common with him

So remind me again, why am I even interested? Good question, eh?

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 17:46:00 +0000

Was wading through my old PSDs hoping to salvage some previous work for a portfolio when I came across this gem.

These were a few wishes I had written down back in February 2006, a few days after my birthday.

Own a nice Apple/Windows Setup.
Have lots of money to spend.
Work for a famous company.
Get out of the country.
Get drunk, someday.
Be happy.

I'm happy to report that I've accomplished all of these things in a relatively short amount of time: god, has it already been 2 years?

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 12:13:00 +0000

While sitting in Photography class learning, no, listening to the lecturer go on and on about the rule of thirds, diagonals and other crap about composition I realized: it's simple. I need to put on weight.

But how.

If I was a rich girl, na na na na na na na wtf

noreply@blogger.com (Boy) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 00:05:00 +0000

*sigh* a major dip in updates once again.

It's interesting: I put up a photo of myself SMILING and now I'm averaging ~10 messages a day. wtf.

Still haven't told him how I feel. Maybe I should just do it already. But then again there are consequences of a rejection that I'm not ready to bear with, namely: a (potential) loss of a good friend, a source of inspiration, a lunch buddy for those lonely afternoons. I think the relationship, whatever it is, has already progressed too far for me to throw it into any kind of a jeopardizing situation.

But then again, I don't have forever. I wish I did, though. Then we would remain in this never ending limbo... I wouldn't mind, really.

I like where we are, here

'cause our lips, can touch
And our cheeks, can brush
Our lips can touch, here

I like where you sleep
When you sleep, right next to me
I like where you sleep, here

Well you are the one the one that lies close to me
Whispers hello, I miss you quite terribly
I fell in love, in love with you suddenly
Now there's no place else I could be but
Right here in your arms