Updates on the Inkmeister's Forlorn Life

In the risk of sounding hopeless and pathetic, I wish to narrate the comings and goings of the past few days of my existence.

As you are all aware, Geof dumped me. That was a really freaky moment. But then, I found someone who consciously allowed himself to be my scapegoat. This guy was good at making me feel special. But then a good friend made me realize I was not really ready for a relationship. So, I stopped whatever was between us and tried to move on.

Then there was the suicidal tendency. Of which I was saved by Jane. J See? At this point I realized I wasn’t the evil guy who society has made me out to be. She saved me. The girl who I broke, saved my life.

Then, Hailey came to my life. This boy has got it all. Killer wheels, manual clutch, 110 kph top speed and all the drama that comes with being a race bike. Hailey is my definition of true love.

After Hailey, came Skype guy who btw, is super sweet. Then there’s the official crush of the season, Mr. Older Guy Who Is Amazing At Everything He Does – let’s call him Jack (-of all trades).

And now, there’s Link. Link is a code name. Link from The Legend of Zelda? Ring any bells? He’s as cute and naïve as him. Like super cute. And this one is smart. But of course, I am sticking to the whole 1 year thing. I’m gonna wait for a full year before diving into the dating game again.

Wish me luck.

At this point, I’m most gushing over Link. The fact that we know each other a long time ago adds to the cute awkwardness that is our connection. Jack, well, there’s that kilig thing every single time he smiles at me. Link or Jack, it does not matter. I will be waiting for that one year.

Please, if you've been through the same things I have, leave a comment. Just like me, you'll get over it.

Under the Microscope: Ariella Arida

Is FIFTY really equal to GOLD?Let me take you on a series of reviews as to the more or less, controversial outcome of the Binibining Pilipinas: Gold Edition.First in my 6 part series, Ariella Arida. Let’s put her, under our microscopes, shall we?

UNDER THE MICROSCOPE: ARA ARIDA

Contextualization:

Ara Arida will be sent to the Miss Universe Pageant of this same year, slated to be sometime between September to November. So it is a must, thusly, to put into context the lady upon whom our hopes and dreams rest.

What is Ms. Universe, in the first place?

Ms. Universe is an old pageant which has always been ranked as the best in the world, in terms of production and more importantly, following. Prior to the drought which begun circa 2000, the Philippines had always been a powerhouse in this pageant. We have 2 crowns and a bunch of finalists to boast of. In more recent times, we have a 3-peat in placing in the top 5 of the pageant. Venus, with here ridonkulus (yes, im using this word – thanks Ted Mosby! J) body, Shamcey, with that megawatt smile and Janine with her stomp, reinstated the Pearl Archipelago into the Miss Universe hall of fame.

It’s safe to say we have sash powers now. And although this is no assurance, in fact, it’s scary even, we have a fighting chance in landing that elusive number one spot.

But mentioning the three girls, it does raise the question why we weren’t able to nab the crown.

Let’s review the queens we’ve had lately.

DAYANA – she started the high fashion trend that is steam rolling the pageant world. She isn’t your typical doll, in fact, she beat out Taliana who is just that. Why did she win then? Fierce is the word. Trump has realized he couldn’t use those sunshiny girls as much as he would want. Those charity balls and gala events only happen once or twice a month – not really reeking in the greens. What is more lucrative is the modelling scene, and Dayana fit the bill perfectly.

STEFANIA and XIMENA – These two girls are just plain and simple – gorgeous. Also very model-esque but more importantly, they have perfect faces. Ximena in particular has a face that sent the pageant world into a frenzy. Stefania has so much youth and vibrancy. Both girls are just beautiful.

LEILA – this girl is fresh – personified. No wonder why she beat out Oleysa and Shamcey! She has such a cover girl image that is just magnetic.

OLIVIA – The lady with the perfect face. Another straight forward beauty. Olivia blew away the competition with her relaxed wit. Her smile and huge eyes are big pluses too.

Let’s now take ARA and see if she matches the apparent requirements of being a Ms. Universe.

 

FACE:

The bad: I’m not that big a fan of her eye-bags. But that’s easy to conceal. The smile is at times cold. I feel like she just overdoes the whole fierce thing. She tends to give off a very cold persona. The face isn’t your typical beauty. The nose needs a little work.

The good: Those eyes! Those huge seductive eyes are her major selling points. She can just stare at you and you’d melt. In general, her face has some symmetry. Her neck is gorgeous. There’s something about the shape of her face that is to me very appealing.

BODY:

The bad: Her curves aren’t very obvious. When she does her poses, her muscles tense too much and they’d seem bulging. This is something she has to work on.

The good: Right now, she doesn’t have obvious body fat. She is quite toned. She’s not short, but not tall either. Just the right Miss Universe height.

PERSONALITY:

I have friends in the pageant circuit who know her. They were pretty excited when she won, and they were sending her love. Apparently, she’s a really nice girl. Some would say, quite fun to be with. She seems to me very determined too.

WIT:

The bad: She gets nervous easy. And it really shows.

The good: She still spews very sane remarks even when she’s nervous.

WALK:

YES. YES. YES. I love her walk! Perfection!

To me, Ms. Ara is a shoo-in in the top15. But she needs a lot of work with her packaging, projection, confidence to really get to the crown.

I’m giving Ara, right now with what she has, a 85% chance at nabbing the crown.

Under the Microscope: The Binibini

Let’s ask ourselves the question – what is a BINIBINI?

And by “binibini” I mean getting into that elusive club of five, four of which entitles you to represent the country in international pageants.

Taken from the most recent editions of the pageant, I dare to give you these criteria on being a BINIBINI.

1. Before picking favourites, ask if a particular girl is stunning. IS SHE STUNNING? Does she have a presence that drops your jaws? It isn’t about plain beauty, but it’s the totality of her bearing, charm and ability to command attention to her even when not trying. Take a look at Shamcey and Venus, in their respective pageant nights, they were clear standouts who just draws your attention.
2.  A binibini has to have a certain attitude. IS SHE A ‘rampadora’? Being stunning is not enough, especially if there are 20 others who meet her level, aesthetically. But a true binibini won’t just stand in a corner. She causes a scene. She gives an extra wink. She tosses her head and giggles a little. She makes the show about her. She makes herself seem important. She is the main event. Venus Raj, Krista Kleiner and Nicole Schmidt are the best examples for this criterion!
3.  The two other criteria are important on stage. But how about before the curtains rise? IS SHE LIKEABLE? Organizers – it is all about them. If they don’t like you because you’re too much of a primadonna, then be ready to wear the worst sponsored outfits, and not be invited to marketing affairs. Exposure to media, which in turn will help you make a name and will help you get noticed by the judges, prior to the event, is dependent on whether or not, press and organizers like having you around them. Shamcey, Janine, Diane Necio, Ali Forbes, Czarina – all women who are known to be sweet and easy to deal with.
4.  Wit! It isn’t about having the best answers, but it’s about having them delivered in a confident, couldn’t-care-less way, which shows confidence and intelligence. BPCI isn’t strict on this criterion (i.e Janina San Miguel) but lately, they’ve been keen on sending confident speakers. Shamcey, Janine, Nicole, Czarina, Krista had really amazing answers and they bagged crowns.

Apparently, ARA and BEA for me got all four in the bag. MUTYA clearly didn’t have no.4, CINDY wasn’t no.2 enough and PIA well that styling really made her look boring. I love our set of winners this year and I will give each, my fullest support.

Ink Drips: Masquerade

I have a secret.

Life to me is a constant masquerade.
This mask I have on, will only be withdrawn the moment I find you.
Whoever you may be.

Inkling: Carousel

Hold me.

Did he just tell me he wanted me to hold him? Or did he order me to hold him? Is this his way of making me feel needed? Or is this him undermining my person. Is this him making me his scapegoat again? Or does he actually want to feel my arms around him? Impossible. After everything that had happened over the summer, he wouldn’t want me in the same room, let alone hold him. But he said those words. Does he still love me? Or is this the beginning of another one of his manipulative ploys? Am I going be one of his toys again? If so, do I even care? Would I mind? Of course I would. I should mind. But I don’t.

Hold me.

His eyes lie. I know that now. But I couldn’t help but look into them and be lead to believe he actually cares. He wants me to hold him. Does he?

If I hold him, would I be giving in? Is that going to be me being the slut that I usually am? Will it mean im stupid? Will it mean he won? But if I don’t, would I regret it? Will I be that guy who would show his picture to my friends and say “he’s the one who got away”?

Hold me.

And I do. And it all starts again from here.

Inkling: Bells

The bell rang. The sound was deliberate – specific. To most, it was their saving grace from the mundane, but to a very few, the bell signalled the end of sanctuary, the end of hiding in a seat in a classroom and it signalled their having to go out into the real world and deal with real people, deal with life. When that bell rang, Jacob, with his long black hair, barely covering his eyes and falling tentatively on his pale cheeks, let out an exasperated sigh. It was again time for him to walk down the hall, alone. It was time for him to ride a cab, alone. It was time for him to go back to his empty house where he would be alone. Alone.

Sometimes, a pseudo-friend would call him and tag along for a bit. They’d exchange small talk, and fake interest in each other’s lives. Usually, promises to “catch up” or “hang out” are swapped– something they both know would never happen anytime soon. They never really stuck around long enough. Well, at least, long enough to know Jacob.

You see, Jacob is a very complicated boy – so complicated that not even his parents really understand him, but whose parents actually could say they completely understand their own kid, right?. He’s been sent to every therapist within a 50 mile radius, but they all say the same thing. He’s a perfectly healthy kid with just a bit of a hard time coping with what happened.

He was just fourteen when it did happen. A drunk driver, a clumsy paramedic and a buttload of bad luck took his best friend away from him. That was a year ago. Jacob wasn’t even there when the whole accident happened. He was outside a movie theatre waiting for someone. That’s what bothered his parents so much. Why would Jacob act like that? He had nothing to do with Ryan’s death. But he took it all too hard.

The once hyperactive kid who was moderately popular, who had tons of friends, suddenly became a recluse, because some boy died. But that’s just it. Bryan wasn’t just some boy. He was THE boy. That night, when all hell broke loose, Ryan was coming to meet him at the theatre. They were gonna have their first ever date. But nobody knew that.

His parents who are never home don’t know how much he hurt. His friends weren’t real enough to be with him during those dark times.

But this was a year ago. Jacob had stopped crying. He decided to be alright; he believes in the whole, “decide to be happy/choose to be happy” bit. But there was still this hole – like a severed limb – a pulsating sting, muted enough to not hurt, but severe enough to be noticed. He dealt with the emptiness by accepting it. What was a feeling was now a full blown person. Every now and then, he’d go blank. He’d stare into nothing, but you can see into his eyes the magnitude of his pain. And then he’d snap back into reality and he’ll act okay.

He was gay in a world where being different, the slightest bit, was bad. He had a chance at happiness but, it faded when Ryan died. Loneliness – that mocking fear of being alone was what had kept him from coming out. He decided that Ryan was the only single person who could have made him happy – the only one who would’ve loved him. Jacob felt that when he died, he lost his chance at being free.

When that bell rang, it rang for Jacob for the last time. He decided, to be okay, like he always does, he decided his destiny. He didn’t want to act happy. He didn’t want to feign smiles at random people who pretend to care.

When he walked down the hall, alone, and rode that cab alone, he knew what to do. He slipped into his empty house, and with a blade – he decided, finally, to be free.

Ink Drips: Emptiness, angels and the like.

They said, and this was a huge deal at the hospital back then, that when I was born, I didn’t cry. Technically speaking, a crying baby is a good thing. Doctors even slap the child’s behind to coax him into crying; knowing how the shrill screams of a child is a good way to clear the airways of any fluids that aren’t supposed to be there. I know right? Pretty morbid if you think about it. But that’s actually how they do it.

But I was different. When I was pulled out of my mother’s vagina, I was calm. I have no idea when the butt slapping happened, but this was apparently what happened next; the midwife handed me directly to my father after severing the ‘cord’, and that moment when I opened my eyes for the first time ever, I smiled into my father’s eyes. I freaking smiled into my father’s eyes and showed a zinger of a dimple on one cheek and reached for his face. That day, in that hospital, they called me an angel.

Apparently I was the most visited baby in the nursery for being that angel who smiles. But my fame was short lived. My mother had a very easy delivery with me that the day after, she was cleared to bring me back home. You’d think that this would be that part of the story when I’d be revealing how I change into the biggest brat this side of the Middle Earth. But not really.

Every single account of my child hood tells of a young quiet boy who liked to keep to himself and talked only when he was addressed. I often asked if I was shy, and they’d automatically say that I was the very opposite of shy. I sang and danced. I did poetry readings and bible verse recitations as if I owned the stage. I was, according to most people then, the perfect little boy. By this time, it’s important to say that I was very cute too. Well, I still am now. But back then, I had no freckles, I had pale olive skin and soft eyes. I was still the angel.

By first grade, I got tested and showed a very high IQ – enough to spur on a debate at my private school as to whether or not I was eligible to be placed at a higher grade level. But then, there was that woman who saw me as a threat to his over-achieving son. Long story short, I stayed in my grade level and I was number one by a huge margin. Still, I was everyone’s angel. But now, I started doubting myself.

The time came for that scrawny boy to enter Mordor. Alas, one does not simply just walk into Mordor, as they say.

It was scary as hell. It was when I realized I was gay.

At thirteen, I was seeing a thirty year old man. He was kind enough not to touch me.

At 14, I lost my virginity in a bathroom and I started smoking.

I joined a theatre group which forced me to stay up even past 1 am – which meant that I was given freedom to secretly roam the city whenever there wasn’t any practice. That’s when I “met” people. Those were when I became broken. But the operative word there is “secretly”. To my family, I was still the angel who, by then, to them, was obviously gay. But I knew, I was different. And you could never hide anything from yourself.

High School, changed me. It changed me too much.

I lost sight of who I was. I began to drift. I lost myself. I lost the smile. I grew sad and lonely. I gained weight.

In college, it didn't stop. I lost my body and my face. I turned darker. My eyes, burdened with hatred. I was no more an angel. I loved and lost. The first time I was IN LOVE, I lost her to my own selfishness. All was downhill from there.

I know. It all escalated too quickly. Now, I’m an angel without any wings – clipped off by the years of pain and loneliness. I've lost my smile. I have lost myself.

Everything that this universe has thrown at me had changed me.

So, my dear readers, this is my goodbye. Goodbye, little angel.

Ink Drips: Self Defense

People will say I’m a coward for letting him go. People say that if it were them, they’d fight. They’d fight because they say, “if it is true love, you will have the courage to battle out such trials”. They’d say “you must have never really loved him.”

I say this, “I loved him, I still love him, that’s why I am brave enough to face the worst tribulation this world could ever throw at me, and that is… letting him go.”

I am brave.

I do have courage. 

Ink Drips: Rationalizing Break-ups

(not based on real events but based on the emotions of the writer at his moment)

He took his strides as deliberately as the way his hair fell on his cheeks. His hair on his cheeks – another one of the things Mark wanted him to change. He mused at his own reflection on the black Mazda parked outside his favourite tea shop. He knew he wasn’t perfect, but he always thought he was good-looking, regardless. But Mark kept on pointing out things he wanted him to change.

He pushed his face closer to the tinted car window, trying to get a better view of his nose – the nose that Mark never really liked, he recalled. Slowly he saw a face materialize besides his. He made a quick twist to look at who it was but the fates had never been kind to him and that moment they were the cruellest. Let’s just say everything was resolved with a bloodied nose, apologies served and numbers exchanged with a guy who owned a black Mazda, who liked milk tea, who didn’t mind his nose, who didn’t want his hair cut, who thought he was cute as hell and who felt like a guy like him shouldn’t be let alone bumping other guys and giving them a good bruising.

He was never the type of guy who cheated on the boy he dated. Justin wasn’t that person. He was loving. He tried to understand every single thing Mark did. He loved Mark. But lately, the boy he fell inlove with more than a year ago, was changing. But these he still understood. The changes, he intellectualized. He analyzed ever little detail of change as just him going through a phase. He was in love. And love, usually blinds you.

He still liked tea though, so every day since that moment with black Mazda guy, he would go to the tea shop, and casually wait for him to come around. The guy never did though. But that moment helped him realize so many things about his self – about how he felt about himself.

He wasn’t inlove anymore. And he knew he shouldn’t be made to stay in a relationship with someone he didn’t love enough. So it ended. It ended with  a phone call and a lame excuse for a breakup. It wasn’t Justin’s fault. It was no ones, but he still blamed himself. He still had the guy’s number, but he never called him. As for the sad Mark, he carried on and found love elsewhere. Mark found love even before Justin.

Justin new he made a mistake. But it was one of those mistakes that you never really regret. He was in love. And it is always better to love and lost and not to have loved at all.

You see, this isn’t a story of broken hearts. This is a story of winning – of break-ups and of choices, good ones.

Inkmeisters Bleed

I don't know if you're all aware of the fact that even people who wield pens bleed. I loved and I got broken.