#30DayWritingChallenge: A neighbor.

Day Seven: A neighbor.

Next week is Spirit Day, and international LGBTQ campaign against bullying, especially those targetted at LGBTQ youths. Though not directly related to bullying, I will write about a particular neighbor I see in our street.

I am not the most sociable person. My social media accounts might claim otherwise, but I lived for decades on the same street without knowing the names of most of the neighbors. I don’t even know the names of the tenants living within our compound. But, people-watcher that I am, I know their faces.

There is this kid in his early teenage years. He’s maybe fourteen, tall and slender. His voice still occasionally cracks when he speaks, something that a guy learns to really control only at fifteen or sixteen.

He is also effiminate.

#30DayWritingChallenge: A kiss.

Day Six: A kiss.

We both knew it was doomed from the beginning.

She knew I was gay. She went to the gym with my ex. I knew a part of her hoped that I would return her affection. In hindsight, I was toying with her affection, knowing she enjoyed having me around like a boyfriend.

It was one night after her job in Makati. We went drinking and she had more than her usual. As drunk as a payday weekend. She was, by far, not a frail woman; but very drunk women traveling alone are still vulnerable. There was no question that I would accompany her home. I had accompanied her home before.

She knew I haven’t slept with a woman before. We teased each other often of the idea of sleeping together. “Soon,” we told each other in jest. We never had sex.

In that bus ride to Muntinlupa, she sobering up a little. By the time we reached the gate of the village where she lived, she could already walk well enough on her own.

As we often did, we held each other’s hands while walking. Occasionally, I rubbed the tips of my fingers against her trimmed nails. Sometimes she leaned on me and I placed one arm around her waist. We walked slowly and in silence.

A few hundred steps before we reached her house, she asked me to kiss her. I leaned down to her face in the dark street and kissed her for the first time. She kissed deeply and with passion, as fierce as I know how she is as a woman. We kissed until we had to catch our breaths. We started walking a few more steps and then, without prompting, we kissed each other again. We tried to compose ourselves by the time we reached the door of her family’s house.

It was a relief when that pseudo-affair ended, to be honest, when she met her then-future-husband some time after. Soon after they started dating, she would giddily tell me how good he was in bed.

Here’s the thing about kissing a girl: I missed feeling the gentle scratch from growing facial stubble.

Cake break.

Last night, while I was in a nearby mall, I saw a woman eating cake.

Based on what she was wearing, the young woman was employed in a nearby store, maybe a tea shop or a cake stand. She was on her break and sat alone on a mall bench.

Cake break.

A photo posted by Jade Tamboon (@antifornicator) on

Next to her was a tumbler of drink and half of a medium-sized cake. The cake was not too fancy but it looked rather good: crumbly and with swirls of chocolate. She lifted the transparent cover and took a small slice, eating it carefully to avoid spilling crumbs to herself.

Occasionally she would check her phone, as if waiting for a companion. Maybe that was why she ate daintily: the cake wasn’t all for herself. But her companion might have taken some time to arrive, she could only be away from work for so long.

And so, while she was waiting and maybe reluctantly, she started getting a little of her share. Work would not be ending for a few more hours and her break would end in a few minutes. In the meantime, she found her bench, she was resting, and there was cake.

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Today’s 30-day writing challenge topic is “a kiss”. Can I cheat and just repost this entry I posted the other day, instead?

He kissed well and was not self-conscious about it. Oh well. I’ll forget his snide remarks.


Scruffy men kissing.

Maybe I should start hitting on guys in dating apps and hook up with someone by noon so I can write about a kiss.

#30DayWritingChallenge: An inanimate object that’s important to me.

Day Five: An inanimate object that’s important to me.

My ex-boyfriend, Rodj, joked about writing something about him for this 30-day writing challenge.

It so happened that I was already planning to write about Geronimo, the sea turtle stuffed toy he gave me after he came back from a vacation in Palawan. This was before we became a couple, but were already sort-of dating.

I also thought of writing the entry as a villanelle; don’t ask me why. I’ve never written that kind of poem before, but I’ve always wanted to give it a try. So here we go.

Villanelle Tungkol sa Isang Laruang Pawikan

Saan na ang susunod, Geronimo,
kapag natapos na? Walang namang napala.
Balik tayo sa simula, Geronimo.

Ikaw ang naisip niyang regalo
para sa lalaking naiwan sa Maynila.
Saan na ang susunod, Geronimo?

Kunwari ay narating din kahit paano
ang dagat. Sa ngayon, ikaw muna.
Balik tayo sa simula, Geronimo.

Nasa isip niya ako kahit sa malayo,
noong bago pa kami nagsimula.
Saan na ang susunod, Geronimo?

Maikling panahon, nahiwalay pareho.
Unawaan na nauwi din sa wala.
Balik tayo sa simula, Geronimo.

Sandaling nilagi; parang ang layo
nang mararating namin sana.
Saan na ang susunod, Geronimo?
Balik tayo sa simula, Geronimo.

A villanelle about a toy sea turtle.

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