Soundtracks

Those of you who have watched any drama or cartoon series would know that, regardless of the language, the soundtracks (either at the beginning or the end) can either contribute to or subtract from the appeal of a series. Bad/boring soundtracks just make you go blah and fast forward (or stop if it's at the end) to the actual story itself. Good soundtracks actually frame the series, setting a unique tone for it and together with the various images/animation from the trailer embeds itself firmly in one's psyche.

From then on, the music serves as a trigger for the synchronised flow of images and emotions that evocate the essence of that particular series. The backbone or theme if you will. And if the song is really catchy, that only adds to its allure. Below are two tracks that fit the bill in every way, though they are as different as night and day.

Panorama by Masaaki Fujioka. End theme from Gakuen Heaven.

Sweet, bordering on the Mush index but still tasteful imo. The real attraction here is in the words (though when translated, it does sound rather bad.)and more importantly in the singer himself. With a voice that is sweet, strong and mellow, this song comes to life. Which is really suitable for this very soft shonen-ai series. The mental image of the teddy bear floating down the stream underneath a canopy of fireworks blossoming in the night sky forever ingrained. And that voice.. ah.. sighs.

Panorama Lyrics.

Romaji version
kawasoi wo aruku haru no yuuhodou
kaze ni yureru yokogao nani omou no
tamani sabishisou ni kuchibiru kamu shigusa
boku wa itsudemo kimi dake matteiru

English Translation
Walking along the riverside, a springtime promenade
With your profile swaying in the wind, what are you thinking?
From time to time, you show that habit if biting your lip while looking so lonely
I'm always waiting, just for you

shiranai furi wo site boku wo umaku kawashite
mienai GARASU no kabe ni kakureteshimau
Pretending that you don't know, you deftly turn me aside
You end up hiding behind those invisible glass walls

yoru no PANORAMA boku no koto dake sagashite
jikan wo tomete nee warattekureyo
sotto kono mama uso de mo ii yo kamawanai
ASUFARUTO ni nokoru kimi to boku dake no kioku
The night panorama, search for only me
Stop the time and please smile for me
Gently like this, it doesn't matter if it's a lie, I don't care
It remains on the asphalt, this memory that's only ours

fumidasu yuuki boki ni attanara
sunao ni kono kimochi tsutaerareta kana
houkagou no kimi ga mabushisugiru kara
tojikometa koe koboresou ni naru
If I had the courage to move forward
would I be able to express my feelings honestly?
Because the after-school you is just too dazzling
my bottled up voice seems like it might overflow

kimi wa itsumo no mama aru hazu no nai TEREPASHII
hodoketemo inai kutsuhimo musubinaoshita
You're the same as always, with that telepathy you can't possibly have
you retie those shoelaces that aren't undone

sora wo miagete nijinda hoshi wo tsunaide
negai wo komete nee futarikiri de
marude maboroshi soredemo ii yo kamawanai
shingo ga kawaru made wa kimi wo boku dake ni misete
Looking up at the sky, and connecting the stars we grasped
Putting our wishes in it, just the two of us
It's like an illusion, but that doesn't matter, I don't mind
Before dawn breaks, show yourself only to me

yoru no PANORAMA boku no koto dake sagashite
jikan wo tomete nee warattekureyo
zutto kono mama yume demo ii yo kamawanai
"Mata ashita" no owari ni ashi wo tomete me wo tojita
The night panorama, search for only me
Stop the time, and please smile for me
Always just like this, it's okay even if it's a dream, I don't mind
After the "see you tomorrow", I stopped and closed my eyes

Shirushi by Can-goo Opening Song of Meine Liebe (My Love).

This upbeat, bouncy, jaunty song is totally different from Panorama but no less exceptional. The staccato background beat did take a little bit of getting use to, though it easily conveyed the image of one galloping across plains which is indeed how the trailer started.
This song is one helluva a ride from the start as it hurtles headlong to the end. Energetic and racy, this song elucrubates the idea of a journey taken replete with suspense and sizzling duels that climaxes nicely during the course of the song and ends on a most satisfying note. Which is weird I guess, the end song sung by the same singer was just so bleh. That means the allure here is really in the song itself. Enjoy.
The translation here is much better than Panorama's.

Shirushi Lyrics

Romaji lyrics
wasurerarenai kako ga arun deshou
demo wasuretai tsumi ga arun deshou
English Translation
I bet there's a past you can't forget
But I bet there are sins you want to forget

erandekita ashiato
keshisarenai ikita akashi
The footsteps you have chosen
Are uneraseable proof that you have lived

wasurerarenai koi ga arun deshou
demo wasuretai hito ga irun deshou
I bet there's a love you can't forget
But I bet there's a person you want to forget

karada ni nokoru kizuato
subete wo yurushita shirushi
The scars remaining on your body
Are proof that you forgave it all

kokoro dake ja ikirarenai kara
mogaite bakari ato dore kurai
naite naite mata nakeba ii no
yoru wo koete nichijou no hibi ni
nande mo nai kaoshite mata nigedashiteiku no
You can't live with your heart alone
Always struggling, crying and crying
How much longer must I cry
In the mundane days that pass the nights
I make a face as if nothing's wrong and escape again

ano hito wa kitto oboeteru
kioku no naka de atashi wa ikiteiru
That person surely remembers
That I live within memories

douse torimodosenai nara
mitasarenai tsuki wo daite
If I can't reclaim them no matter what
I'll embrace the moon that's never full

kowasu koto ga hajimari to iu nara
kagiri no mukou kore kara kitto
koete koete mata koeteike yo
"sayonara" to jibun de fusaideita
furimidashitatte ii yari naosun ja nakute
If destruction is said to be a beginning
From now on I'll surely
Pass and pass, surpassing my limits
With a "farewell" I stalled myself
It's alright to be disheveled, I won't redo it

kono michi no ikiteiku saki ni wa
deai datte wakare datte
fuete fuete mata fueteiku yo
kizamitsuketeikou ari no mama
kono yo ni umareta koto
itsuka hokoreru you ni
atashi wo hokoreru you ni...
In the living future of this path
Meetings and partings
Grow and grow and grow
Let's carve out the truth
That I was born in this world
So I can one day be proud of it
So I can one day be proud of myself...

Notes from a Translator's pad

Little oddities you can't help but notice while translating Chinese yaoi or manga for that matter into decent English.

Chinese appears to be better at expressing emotions / intensity in a third party context. For the same number of words, the prose seems to be able to get across more than its English counterpart. And I'm talking about the standard form of English, the kind you'd find in comics and not literary classics which is naturally in a league of its own.

Unfortunately, I can't cut and paste the Chinese text as it's a scan so there's really no way you can compare it for yourself. Well alright, that part's a bit too explicit.

One aspect in which Chinese (at least in the manga version) does suck terribly at is in the eroticism/ person to person sex talk bit.

Example 1 (courtesy of Yahoo Babel!) : 您想要射,啊?
Which when translated literally = You want to shoot, ah? Which can't quite beat the world renown English refrain of ' You gonna cum?' Short and dirty. I'm sorry, but the knee-jerk reaction to the Chinese phrase is Shoot? Shoot what? Though that really doesn't compare to the second example. ^^

Example 2: (Courtesy of Yahoo Babel again- see above): 为 le 不让您疼已经抹上油.
Which when translated literally= So as to not let you pain, already wiped on oil.

Which stumped me for a bit when I first encountered it, cause it was a conversation a guy was having with another in the library. Before proceeding on to a single ambiguous panel of what looked like necking but which in retrospect turned out to be a fuck.
I was thinking, Oil? Olive oil? Cooking oil? On what? Library Books??!!! Before I realised that it was his dick that sod was talking about and Oil, probably lubricant of some sort. But I mean good grief, who goes about putting oil/lubricant on one's privates in anticipation of a quick fuck like it were some pre-packed hotdog. Talk about bringing convenience to a whole new level.

First, it'll be damn messy. Imagine the copious mess in your underwear/ pants, not to mention the likelihood of it showing as a wet patch at the groin area. Though I guess if you're stupid enough to do that in the first place it doesn't matter.

Second, half the stuff will be on anywhere else other than the intended spot by the time you reach your destination which defeats the purpose of putting it on in the first place. Well unless you like the feeling of having a mini ecosystem down there.

Third, damn it, it's messy. That's reason enough. Use your bloody saliva.

I know I know it's a bloody manga where the entire Elite unit, well almost, is like a male harem and beautiful boys drop out of nowhere. And its been re-translated from Japanese. But still the male manga-ka should have known better. ><.

1 3/4 volumes done in 3 days. Hmm. Though they'll have run out of raw scans by the time I'm done with this chapter. Which means, I'll need to hunt for the other 5 Chinese volumes of Hard Line to see how it ends. Sigh..

Translating for dummies.

Yes, I've found something else to do ( right other than work, which I really should be starting on sometime soon) that fleshes out the current interest. So I'm currently embarking on the translation of Chinese manga into English because my Favourite scanlation group needed some help.

It's laughable I know with my sub-standard Chinese though I was pleasantly surprised to realise I could actually understand and translate the stuff I was given with a little help from my *very* dusty Secondary school Chinese dictionary. The first 66 pages were fun and after the initial struggle on trying to anglicise names and Surnames (Some of which really sounded weird Herna for a guy? Richard Hillier??), translating it got a lot more fun and faster to boot. The characters were good, even though the Commander was a little too indecisive for my liking and the plot was engaging, even moving at times.

I guess translating it, actually forces you to focus more on the possible nuances of the actual meaning when a literal translation would just sound plain wrong. The last 10 pages were in that horribly complex Traditional Chinese format but I was again pleasantly surprised to find that I could translate it smoothly except for one bubble, the gist of which could still be deduced. Which I guess is the beauty of being able to deduce what a couple of strange words actually mean ( in Simplified Chinese) when you read the whole sentence.

All in all, Hard Line is an enjoyable series though the common pretext on which it is built upon is not very believable. (A navy SEAL unit with members that fall in love with other men ranging from a rather femme fatale looking reporter to a vice-commander with a penchant for rough loving. And to top it off a uke bishonen commander and his seme bodyguard like sergeant. You get my drift.)

But Men in Uniform are always attractive, I guess, and people don't read manga for a dose of realism. Realistic in how they react, yes possibly, but the very scenario highly unlikely. Ah well, it gives me something to do in the meantime.

Afternoon Angst.

Good god, one session of Zetsuai 1989 and Zetsuai: Bronze is enough emo overload for the day.

Angsty, repressed emotions, suicidal antics, miscommunicated feelings, silent obstinacy and intense passion. Yaoi anime classics indeed but it made for a very morose lunch. Nice but so emo. Argh.

Voyage

Love and Lust. So undeniably interlinked yet so strangely different. There can be Lust without Love but not Love without Lust. That much is clear but attempt to define either and you enter a veritable minefield. Lust, maybe. Passion, physical, emotionless, quick gratification. Love? Let's not even go there, after all there is no encompassing definition, it is a constant process, evolving, changing, maturing. And after all this while I am still learning to love him.

It had more or less gotten to a stage when sex became a purely physical affair, physical release and quick gratification. An activity where a portion of the consciousness gets detatched from the hazy highs of the action and coldly, methodologically notes the various strengths and weakness of the other party's techniques much like the indifferent diner deciding which main course to pick. Lust is a hard master that promises much and delivers little, the aftermath of sex inevitably accompanied by a feeling of nothingness. Not quite emptiness because that is so cliche and denotes a gnawing sense of hopeless abandonment to an emotionless physical activity which was not the way I felt. But nothingness, that devoidness of any feelings except the knowledge that physical need had been met via contact and the faint aftertaste of boredom and resignation. Was all the trouble for that really worth it? - the common refrain. But still it persisted.

Sean wasn't my first. Obviously. I'd say I had two serious (relatively) relationships before that and a number of other 'boyfriends' that really didn't last more than two weeks. I fell in love easily then or so I thought. Falling in Lust was more like it. A purported relationship built on nothing more than physical attraction and chemistry in bed is doomed from the start. But like the naive, horny fool I was, I often conflated attraction with a genuine feeling for another person and thought that perhaps love could be cultivated from such attraction. A notion that I did not cherish for long. But even then, I would still enter into a 'relationship' simply on the basis of sexual attraction and the fact the other party suggested it.

Such tie-ups (because I won't even dignify it as a proper relationship) never lasted long though they did afford some good escapades and great sex in an assortment of places. The most audacious probably being the blowjob given by the beefcake in the BMT bunk when everyone else was sleeping though we did adjourn to the toilet after I firmly rebutted his attempts for anal in the bunk. Think sleeping guys about 1m away on either side. Looking back now, it seems suicidal some of the places I had sex, I'm sure the prospect of getting caught did cross my mind but was inevitably pushed aside in the hormonal demand for release.

One thing was always common though, I always ran. The need to end the tie-ups before I got terminally bored or sometimes not even at that stage yet, just some morose brooding and I would disappear or call with a short let's end it we aren't meant for each other, then hanging up. Without reason I went in and without reason I left, undoubtedly burning a number of first timers as I found out later but I didn't care then. Fidelity was never my strong point, the thought of plowing through a emotionless/superficial relationship sufficient to incite the urge to run. Which I always did.

Then there were the relationships.

W. was the first. A glib talker, not particularly attractive, charismatic. We met up after chatting on IrC which was the de riguer method of meeting new people then other than by clubbing or introduction via friends. Straight facedly asked me to tutor him in english (1 year my junior) and made advances at me under the table. At that old (now long gone) bubble tea place at Junction 8. It shocked me, the audacity of it, the brash cheeky approach though I found it wildly exciting. Blew me off in the carpark and proposed to get together while doing it. Which was hard to really think through when your dick is in someone's mouth. But I found him attractive then and agreed, thinking yes that love could still be cultivated from attraction. It obviously couldn't. I was idealistic (detested him guy watching when we were supposed to be out on a date--> which is really ironic. Sean and I tend to do it half the time when we're out.) and his cockiness was starting to unnerve me. So I ended it. We got in touch again some time much later after that and I wondered what I ever saw in him. Still as brash and cocky, he found it hard to stomach that I was as he claimed 'the first guy to have made him cry' and never ceased to attempt to guilt trip me. We lost contact sometime ago though I have no doubt he'll always be a player.

T. , the second was sweet. Though I firmly believed it was true 'love' then which probably was not surprising, given the paucity of the previous relationships, it is more accurate to say that it was more of a puppy-love cum romance kind of attraction. We met at Niche, friends were dancing, seat empty, he sat down, we talked and traded contacts. Cutish with the boy next door look, T. was earnest and thoughtful as W. was brash and suave. We talked loads but he was reluctant to get together, having to leave for studies. But I lived for the moment, always wanting now never mind the future. "But four months is all we've got." "Better than nothing at all" T.'s head on shoulder, a comforting weight. Four months, too short to be beset with the common ailments of a relationship, too long for casual dismissal. Parting was painful, I couldn't bear to send him off. Went home and cried.

Then after sometime, past the occasional ONS and fling, I chatted Sean up on IrC. By then my sojourns into irc was increasingly rare given the sheer volume of users just seeking threesomes/orgies or quickies (casual sex at some one's place). I guess what was all the more surprising was that it was a conversation we carried on for a few hours and one we eventually followed up upon. To this day neither of us can recall what we talked about except that it had nothing to do with sex or the usual risque top/bottom? age/sex/stats/race? subject matter. So we chatted for a month and one day I decided to meet for the hell of it even though I'd never seen him before. In the world of IRC, meeting up without having traded pics first is like Russian roulette, you never know what you're going to get. And trust me you can get some really shitty ones. So I prepared myself mentally for the worst and prepared a quick getaway excuse which I duly conveyed to him. "Will need to leave soon cause I'm picking a friend up at the airport."

The first time I saw him I was literally smitten. White shirt, faded jeans, cute boy next door look, the bright vivid eyes really caught my attention ( though i found out from him later when we were dating that they were contacts.. cheat! haha). There was a healthy dose of Lust involved no doubt about it but the first impression still left me wowed and really eager to want to know him even more. Till then it had just been a oh he sounds like a fun guy to hang out with, but he's going away soon to study so better not get so close anyway feeling, actually seeing him created the impetus for wanting to know him more and quickly at that.

Sean said he knew at that time I was interested in him from the way I 'devoured' him with my gaze. While probably highly exaggerated (he he) , I might have stared harder than I should have, not that I cared. And I distinctly remembered thinking I have to make him mine... or at the very least friends, with the option for more. Needless to say my backup plan went out of the window and when Sean reminded me of the supposed picking up of the friend at the airport, I (apparently) brushed it aside with a oh she can go take a cab herself, upon which he proudly told me after we were attached that was how he knew I was attracted to him. (Ya so smart can. :P)

His quirky sense of humor did manifest in that first meeting. Prior to meeting him, I had gone shopping for a present for a friend's birthday and so met him lugging a rather big paper bag from MET. Whereupon one of the first things he asked was ,"Wow is that present for me?" And I went "Er, no..." wondering to myself since when people from irc meeting up for the first time actually give presents and whether he seriously expected one. And because he looked so serious I couldn't tell. Thankfully, that silly boy redeemed himself by gallantly offering to carry it which accorded me a wonderful opportunity to admire his ass. Ha ha.

PS: Well unsurprisingly, this has gone on way longer than planned. The next installment shall be the last. I do want to talk about other things other than my journey as a homosexual such as when the next installment of Play Boy Blues will be licensed (ha ha kidding). Exciting as one's sexual escapades and gaffes may be, a constant litany of one's life and activities is sufficient to bore anyone, not to mention implant the notion of a narcissistic author in the minds of readers. I know I certainly would. So yeah, the next post will be the last on this subject matter.
Looks like you'll need to wait again dear. Laughs.

Embarkation

Because what's started must be finished.

A paradox in many ways would be a good way of summing up my sexual awakening and exploits. Experienced yet naive, angsty but hopeful, cynical yet a hopeless romantic. But what is life if not a journey? That phrase of life, bitter-sweet, is one I would not willingly relinquish even if given the option to do so. But I didn't come to philosophise, leave that to the bored or wise. And so I continue.

I mentioned previously that in the process of growing up I was often slow on the uptake in certain areas but considerably less in others. I've always attributed this partly due to the fact that I was a late bloomer. Having a small stature and looks that perpetually subtracted from my age meant that people always presumed that I was three years younger than I really was, a trend which continues to this day. Which made the childish urge to want to grow up faster all the more pressing in those long pre-pubescent years. Puberty was perceived as the next great frontier albeit one fraught with dangers though the prospect of growing up and doing things was immensely attractive.

I find myself faltering here. I had envisioned an easy, seamless way of explaining just how in certain areas, especially in those of self discovery I was considerably ahead of others. But when push comes to shove, the faint sense of embarrassment and the sheer banality of the subject matter prevents a more eloquent exposition. But I promised that this would be unadulterated so I shall deliver it thus. I started masturbating around primary two. Yes, start screaming. Mind you it wasn't a pre-planned thing as most guys who still remember their first 'hand fuck' would tell you. I didn't even know what that activity that felt so good was termed till some years later.

Now you must be thinking what sort of poor perverted kid I must have been, to tell you the truth if it had not been for that 'talk on the birds and bees' by the mother, who knows it might never have happened till much later when horny teenage boys discover the joys of wanking the crank or whatever they call it. Then again maybe not. Suffice to say, for some reason, my parents believed in letting us know about the bird and bees at that early stage and I still remember her showing me those pictures in the St John ambulance's medical book or something depicting the process of delivery and some other book about what two married couples do when they're really in love with each other and want to start a family. That night, I couldn't sleep due to a persistent hard on and *presto* the discovery that your right hand plus your glorious member (well not so glorious then) made for happy times. And I never really looked back since then.

Sean was understandably horrified when he first learnt of this back when we were still dating. "PRIMARY two??? What?? so EARLY??...I only started in Secondary two.." Which was understandable I guess, given that he used to be one of those guys who liked kicking a ball about and tossing them through hoops with pals in secondary school, replete with chasing and getting the girl of his dreams. Before realising that girls weren't really his thing too. He still gets reticent when the subject of sexual awakening pops up from time to time and I tease him mercilessly on his rather late awakening. Whereupon he usually sulks and testily replies that he's not as whorish as I am which naturally invites punishment of some sort.

Anyway I digress. Let me see where should I begin. First times are usually a good starting point. We would like to believe/ hold out for the notion that our first time will always be given to someone we love. Oh yea and ideally it's even better if you get married first yada yada. But as is often the case, our first time is normally frittered away and this is doubly true if you're a horny gay teenager with the perceived idea that one has nothing to lose. Discounting the hand job at a classmate's place (cause a hand job is still a hand job), my first was facilitated by the ubiquitous IRC. The now defunct GTS channel was the first real eyeopener that really one wasn't alone at all, that very realisation sufficient to embolden me on the quest to get to know more people. The prospect of the forbidden fruit never far from mind.

My first was with a guy one year my junior in Sec 2 (was sec 3 then), kind of average boy next door look though he was shorter than me. We chatted for a couple of days on Irc and phone before deciding to meet up on a day I had meticulously ensured the place would be free. From a greenhorn's perspective (me) his tales of even doing it in a car park sounded so shamelessly wild, I got a hard on just listening to him. Back at my place, the tension was palpable. "You've never done it before right? Can tell." he quizzed.
"Huh, really? Uh.. ya." All attempts at nonchalance failing miserably.
Whereupon he leaned over and kissed me. My first kiss, fleeting and frenchless. He had now settled back into his position beside me as if waiting for something expectantly. Which made me nervous.
"Erm. So what do i do now?" All the while thinking 'This is SO uncool. DO something.'
"Hmm you kiss me?" he replied. This was not how I had envisioned it to be, being swept off the feet by someone and ravaged tenderly.. instead here I was sitting beside a supposedly experienced junior in what was starting to feel like a do or dare session.
So I just shut my eyes and gave in to what I thought it might be like. Pushing him flat down, frenzied fumbling of buttons, groping wildly and kissing frantically. The rough unpolished overtures of the young uninitiated. Frenching was an interesting experience. I quickly learned that tongue wrestling or attempting to stick as much as possible of one's tongue into another guy's mouth was promptly rewarded with a loud MMPH and a hurried extrication. "You were shoving your whole tongue down my throat!" "Oops sorry."

Sex (oral only) was a real let down. His version of oral consisted of a lip lock around the dick with a constant up-down action that involved absolutely no tongue action and a whole load of hot air. Which was about as arousing as a having a hairdrier with the heat turned up constantly aimed at your dick. That gets dried out really quickly. Not cool. But it was my first time ever with a guy, I was still horny and we settled for a mutual hand job that ended up in a mess. I must admit I was more than a little disappointed at how it felt, even as inexperienced as I was, I was pretty sure that wasn't the way it should be performed. It sure as hell wasn't the way I did it. Thankfully, the others I met later quickly put that concern to rest.

Back then, oral sex was all that I thought was really necessary. The physically invasive and ironically what I perceived to be vulgar anal sex in the realm of the unknown & unneeded, the thought of excruciating pain and the strangeness an obstacle to the attempt. But the allure of the unknown is hard to resist especially for testosterone driven horny teenagers who could wank a thousand times a day and the fact that I was gay was irrelevant. Oral was still all fun, fine and dandy though it did lack that extra oomph.

Because contrary to popular belief, we seldom perform oral sex all the way till the other party actually cums for a variety of reasons foremost amongst which is it takes sometime (unless you're super horny or ultra sensitive) and time is usually something we don't have, not to mention the fact that it is quite tiring to be on the giving end. Duh. So if you reduce it to its most basic level sans the foreplay and oral part, gratification is still achieved by masturbation. Which like I said is all fine and dandy but there is always something more and anal was that more.

So one thing led to another and I finally gave in to a guy I had been seeing for a month. Let's just say anal is a lot more intense both on the receiving and giving end. Yes, it is thoroughly enjoyable. Yes, I'm glad I decided to try it. Yes, it is possible for the bottom to cum while being fucked. No, you will not suddenly be incontinent and have no control over your bowel movements. No, you cannot butt fuck as some yaoi /porn/novels will have you believe, five or more times a day. Not if you want to walk.

Looking back at those halcyon days, the numerous 'boyfriends', sex, getting stone drunk in Niche, sex in weird places, angsty crushes and outrageous escapades, I'm really glad I didn't contract HIV or anything. Though if you gave me the chance to go back, I'd probably just do it all over again.
Well except for the leaving the lube by the parents' bed part and telling my crush when I confessed to him that I was gay and he asked me seriously "So if I ask you to go with me to the toilet and suck me off now, will you do it?" and the idiot in me responding "No. I won't do it to friends." when what I was really screaming mentally was "ARE YOU KIDDING? OF COURSE! LET"S GO! NOW!!!!!!" part. Yeah except for these two and a couple of other inconvenient situations not much.. more safe sex yes maybe.

Well that pretty much sums up the hedonistic, carnalistic lifestyle of my youth. Yup yup. I'll probably conclude with a last part about him sometime soon. IE: when my work is done. SIGH...

Genesis.

A new blog. Pristine, clean, unadulterated. Never one who liked having to customise/start up new blogs, I was nonetheless persuaded to set one up in which I could express things in the way I really view it to be. Unadulterated, uncensored, no need to temper entries in the usual conventional, perceived way of things. Reckless insults and bigotry shall of course forever be absent.

For after all, a blog is to express your point of view as you see it (within the prescribed legal limits) without the need for further self-censure to present a view that is conventional and accepted. As all first posts go, an introduction of sorts is usually in order. Not that it's a chore of any sort, was just kind of reflecting on it. You know, those kind of situations when you suddenly wonder why and when it all started and you attempt to trace it all back to a single defining moment if possible. If not at the very least how this entire situation came to pass, the series of events, experiences and encounters. And so this is mine...

I've never really wondered when I knew I was gay. Sure enough, I've given it scant thought in the past, attributing it to somewhere in the past between childhood and the innocence of youth. But when and how, not really. Revelling in the hedonistic pleasures of the flesh and experiencing the rawness of teenage angst and emotions left me with scarcely the time and depth, I'm afraid to add, to just sit back and wonder. I'm sure it must have come up from time to time, only to be pushed back into the recesses of the mind, a minor inconvenience that could always be dealt with later.

So when did I realise I was gay? If we are talking about the strict meaning of the word, that one realises that he is attracted sexually to another male, I guess i could say with some certainty that it would be at the age of 13+ in Sec 2 when I decided to confide in a friend I had know for a short while whom I had grown very close to albeit, strangely in a non sexual way, which is probably the reason why we're still friends today. The lust of youth is a savage creature.
But the faintest realisations of the attraction to other males started much earlier, sometime in Primary 2-3. There was no single defining event, not that I recall, just something that grows and dawns on you. Though even then if you could have asked me whether I liked guys in the sense of the word as we understand homos to mean today I would have vehemently denied it.

My entire family has always been a very orthodox and conservative one and this extended to both sides of the family. Right and Wrong, Good and Evil was always/constantly drilled into us. The age old adage , Spare the rod and Spoil the child a commandment cherished as fervently as the thick Bible which Dad always opened at night and proceeded to read from before closing with prayer. Homosexuality was/still is regarded as a depraved sin that people with mental problems suffered from, a disease almost. So deeply ingrained was this, I still remember my very first glimpse of a 'homosexual act' between two actors on a late night TV Frenching each other sent an initial jolt of disgust, 'EE two GUYS kissing', along with another inexplicable perturbed feeling that I still find difficult to evocate today. Perhaps the sight/taste of forbidden fruit and the evocation of some strange emotion would describe it best. Needless to say, mom promptly switched channels and reinforced the carnality and depravity of such an act.

During this stage of growing up when looking up the meanings of various parts of the human anatomy both male and female in the Oxford dictionary with classmates was considered deliciously naughty, I was often slow on the uptake in certain areas, though considerably less so in others (more on that another time). I still remember a rather chubby(as he then was) classmate of mine coming up to me and bending back a 'Police-Crime does not Pay' bookmark and covering the eyes of the convict cartoon, leaving the bulbous nose and a bristly chin.

" Looks like IT huh?" he queried cheekily. "Uh, ya.. it does." I replied with a weak smile. Clueless that IT referred to the penis till I was enlightened much later, upon which I turned beet red. Though that was nothing compared to the time when I came to the sudden realisation that oral sex didn't refer to kissing, not even Frenching but rather 'stimulation of the sexual organs (male /female) to give sexual pleasure.' Even more embarrassing considering I was mentioning oral sex a little too loudly in class "But don't they have oral sex on TV?" and the geography teacher shot me a very weird look before my classmate hurriedly hushed me up. Sec 1 I believe. Sigh.

So it was only in Sec 2 when I finally realised that guys were the ones that really turned me on. I wasn't all confused and sullen, never faced with a oh shit why why kind of mentality. I guess i saw it coming all along, the little things that build up until the avalanche starts. A decided lack of interests in classmates' excited boasts of "Wah later I'm going out with XXX from MGS/RGS/CHIJ/SCGS. We chatted on irc the last 2 weeks etc etc", the strange experience of having a senior rush up from behind, hugging me really hard, saying bye & rushing off, leaving me in a daze-- I never caught a good look at his face. But the real thing which probably started me on the inexorable journey to where I am today is the Internet.

Ah yes we know it all too well. The Evils of the Net as some( notably members of the family and the occasional preacher) likes to put it. The Net literally expanded a new horizon. I still remember surfing on the 14.4 Kbps modem and watching pictures load cm by cm which somehow possessed an additional allure, especially when one was looking at pictures of that nature. My first encounter with gay porn that time left me with the familiar feeling of initial shock and mild disgust. Why would anyone want to lick THAT? But it was rapidly overwhelmed by that burning sense of desire and naked arousal. I attributed it mainly to the fact that it was something forbidden and taboo, the sight of it such great temptation much like the proverbial fruit from the Tree of Knowledge in Eden.

But I promptly realised too that I was genuinely attracted, titillated by the naughty dirty acts, men on men. A precursory surfing of hetero porn sites did give the initial kick due to the naughtiness factor though it promptly faded which left me all the more convinced that yes I was a homo. Though, at that time i would never admitted it. And as most of you who ever had a secret that burns so greatly knows, you need to tell someone. And at that age, caution is a trait the young are seldom blessed with. So I told A. because I felt that he of all people would be the most understanding due to his delicious eccentricity. Laughing over long beans in fried rice was probably the best ice breaker. And naturally I attempted to phrase it in a carefully neutral and conventionally acceptable way: "hmm you know last night I happened to stumble upon this erm site that showed a guy licking another guy's er dick. I was quite shocked.." *fidget* Whereupon A. interjected and said matter of factly that he had surfed such sites too and they were funny but nice. Whereupon all pretense at normality dropped and we exchanged more of our online 'adventures' as excited schoolboys are wont to do.

To say that I was relieved would be an understatement, this sense of joy and camaraderie at having found someone similar was beyond words. All thoughts of ridicule out of mind. There was strangely enough an unspoken rule between the two of us, we never acknowledged or vocalised to each other that we were gay, not till Sec 4 at least when we were well on our journey. There was no need to, we knew and took comfort even pride in the unmentioned sameness. And it was/is one that was devoid of any sexual overtures for which I am indeed truly glad. The lust of youth is a great ravager of relationships.

I had intended to talk a bit more about my sexual awakening though I have gone on long enough and shall perhaps mention it in a future post that will (hopefully) present a brief sketch of the journey till now and the person that so thoroughly occupies my thoughts now and will undoubtedly never let me hear the end of it should I make no mention of just how important he is to me. Heh heh. Till then, Adios.