Personal Life

I Prefer It Free, Sorry

Posted on December 7, 2011 by Yoshke in Gay, Rants, Sex, Travel |

The other week, my self-esteem was crushed by a small piece of paper.

I was fixing my bag outside a convenience store in Tagaytay City when somebody gave me a piece of paper with a short note on it. Without looking at the stranger and the paper, I pocketed the note and expected the guy to leave me alone. Unfortunately for me, he was there for business.

“Massage, sir? I can massage you, sir, while you’re here in Tagaytay,” the stranger said.

“No, thanks,” I declined. “I’m on my way back to Manila.” I was still busy trying to put all the pasalubongs into my backpack.

“I also do business in Manila, sir,” the stranger insisted.

“No, thanks. I’m busy.”

“Where in Manila do you live?”

I refused to say anything more.

“I’m Romeo. How about you?”

Silence is my middle name.

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The Vanishing Coins

Posted on December 1, 2011 by Yoshke in Family |

Mystery solved.

I intentionally left several P5 coins on the side table in my room, pretended to be asleep, and kept half an eye on them. For months now, I had always found myself looking for missing coins around the house. I entertained the idea that an unseen, paranormal force hiding inside our house’s walls was responsible for the coins that seemed to disappear from where I left them. I even considered seeing a doctor because I thought my usually reliable memory was failing me. But that all changed when I decided to set up a trap to catch the culprit.

After almost thirty minutes of waiting, my nephew, whom I fondly call the Promil Kid, entered the room and watched TV. It wasn’t long until he noticed the coins on the table and pocketed them as if they were his own.

I was shocked. For the longest time, what I liked most about my nephew was that he didn’t care about money. Unlike most of the kids in my extended family, he never did approach me and ask for money to buy something. Honestly, whenever I tried to give him cash, he would just look at me and not take it. He’d rather be given food.

That was then.

Apparently, he is now very conscious about the value of coins and what it can do for him. Right after taking the coins, he went out and I followed him to his room.

“Hey, hey,” I said, “why’d you take those? Those are mine.”

“Not anymore, Tito,” he reasoned. “You left them on the desk.”

“That doesn’t make them yours.”

“Please?” He threw one of those I-beg-you-Tito look, which works all the damn time.

“Sure.”

My nephew then took out a giant piggy bank (more like a giant baby bottle bank) from under the bed. It was so heavy he had to roll it on the floor. He could not even lift it up or move it around if not by rolling. One by one he inserted the coins into it. Looking at his savings, he flashed a satisfied smile.

“Is it already P10,000, Tito?” My nephew was eager to know.

“I don’t know. You need to count them.”

“There’s too many coins. I can only count up to 100.”

I joined him on the floor, opened the piggy bank and began counting. It took me more than an hour to finish.

“Eight thousand pesos,” I excitedly told him. “Where’d you get all this money?”

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Twice I Heard Death

Posted on October 29, 2011 by Yoshke in Emo, Personal Life |

I was 10 when I heard it for the very first time. No one would look after me at home so my mother brought me along with her across the street to the a neighbor’s. She was one of my mother’s bestfriends. My mom offered a crying shoulder and a helping hand to the family. As my mother did some chores in our neighbor’s kitchen, I was left wandering around the house. In the living room of the house was a bed — a deathbed — and in it was my mother’s friend, trying to catch her last breaths. Two of her children, both in their 30s, sat by the bed as they moved their ears closer to her mouth. She was finding it difficult to utter even the slightest syllable. I remember thinking to myself how weird she sounded. I concluded that time that it was the sound that dying people make. It was the sound of death.

Outside, on the porch, was the youngest of her children, Ate Lovely. Of all the three siblings, I liked her the most. She was kind, friendly and spirited. It was a surprise to see her on her knees, begging in front of a man with a hat on. I had never seen him before. Like her siblings inside the house, Ate Lovely, too, was crying. And she let out a train of please’s while holding the hand of the cold man with a hat on, who could not even look at her even for a second.

“Please po, please,” she pleaded. “Pumasok po kayo sa loob kahit sandali lang.”

The man with a hat on gave no response other than a slight turning of his head away from the poor woman.

“Kausapin n’yo lang po,” Ate Lovely continued. “Parang awa nyo na po.”

My mom found me standing at the doorway and invited me to try the dish she cooked. Ate Lovely was still weeping. So were her siblings in the living area. They stayed like that for more than an hour.

As I passed through the living area on my way out to play, I saw the man with the hat on enter the house and sit beside my mother’s bestfriend. The man, too, moved his left ear closer to her lips, awaiting words. But the words did not come. She was too weak to even control her lips. All three siblings gathered around the bed.

The man removed the hat, held her hand, and said in almost a whisper, “OK na. Wag mo nang isipin yun. Wala na sa akin yun.”

And then it happened. The sound of death stopped. The sound of loss followed. She was gone.

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Lessons from Behind the Wheel

Posted on October 22, 2011 by Yoshke in Conversations, Personal Life, Travel |

I don’t own a car. To get from one point to another, I use public transportation. I get from Point A to Point B either by the MRT or a cab. When I’m in a cab, I take the passenger seat. And it has been a habit to engage the driver in a conversation for two reasons — so I won’t get sleepy and so the driver won’t, either. Many times, I find myself sharing an interesting, sometimes enlightening, conversations with the man behind the wheel. Here are some of those instances.

Photo by my boss, Sir Rolen

What is it with heights that many, myself included, get so obsessed with? I easily get attracted to anything tall. I mean, all my exes are taller than 5’10″. And I don’t think I’m alone. Seems like every five years or so, the tallest manmade structure record gets broken. But I don’t know much about such records in the Philippines.

“Yan ang pinakamataas na building sa buong Pilipinas,” the cab driver said as-a-matter-of-fact-ly when I told him where I was headed to. I was to meet my friend that afternoon.

“Yung PBCom Tower po?” The building had no significance to me whatsoever.

“Oo, yan ang pinakamatangkad na building sa Pilipinas.” he reiterated.

“Hindi halata.”

The driver chuckled. “Eh kasi, matatangkad din ang katabi.”

“Siguro nga po.”

I had never looked at the PBCom Tower the same way again since then. Every time I pass by it, I look up and try to see the top of it. To me, it was beautiful.

A few weeks later, I was about to meet the same friend at the same place. I took a cab again. When I climbed into the vehicle and told the driver where I was going, I thought I could give him a bit of trivia.

“Manong, yun pala pong PBCom Tower ang pinakamataas na building sa Pilipinas.”

With his brows met, he looked at me and grinned. “Hindi siguro.”

“Yun nga daw po. Sabi po sakin ng isang taxi driver dati. Tapos ni-research ko. Tama nga. Yun nga pinakamataas.”

“Sabihin natin na tama nga,” he said, “Eh ano ngayon?”

###

The news on the radio was about the possibility of a fare hike. The cab driver turned up the volume. After the news bit, he shook his head. To my surprise, he was against it. This happened almost four years ago.

“Di po ba kayo pabor na tumaas ang pamasahe?” I asked.

“Hindi naman lahat ng driver gusto tumaas ang pamasahe,” he stated.

“Di po ba tataas ang kita nyo pag tumaas din ang pamasahe?” Read more

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Keeping Them Straight

Posted on October 8, 2011 by Yoshke in Conversations, Gay, Humor |

“What’s wrong with me?” cried Celine, a friend and colleague. Moments earlier, she mastered the art of using all the functional muscles on her face to signal that there was a hot, goodlooking male behind me. Drowning in excitement and a deadly sin, she watched the guy behind me like she was ready to mate.

“Yeah, he was behind me in the queue earlier. He’s tall. He smelled really nice.” I told her. “And he’s gay.”

“No, he’s not.” First stage of grief, denial.

“Don’t you sense it?” I added. “Look at their body language, Celine. The other guy is his boyfriend.”

“Really? That‘s his boyfriend?”

I nodded.

“Really?! THAT GUY??! With THAT face?” Second stage of grief, anger.

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Protected: You Can’t Shoot What You Don’t See

Posted on October 4, 2011 by Yoshke in Entertainment, Rants, TV |

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A Break-up Letter

Posted on September 25, 2011 by Yoshke in Health, Humor, Whatnots |

I never expected I’d be writing you this letter. We’ve had six years of wonderful memories but I’m afraid it had come to the point where you started to break my heart. I should’ve seen it coming since I’ve been finding it hard to breathe lately. It’s time to end the pain that I’m feeling and I just have to say goodbye.

I’ve known you since I was a kid but it was only before my college graduation that we had a real relationship. At first, it was difficult for me to get along with you considering the nasty things some people say about you. They said you would hurt me, and you did. They said, if I continued spending time with you, it would be so hard to let go. It was.

True, you are all the bad things they were saying. Still, I accepted you. I let you get to me deep within. You’re smokin’ hot. I loved the feeling of your body in my mouth. I loved it when my lips touched your butt. You taste like euphoria. You reek of obsession.

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Chestit Rojden Den, Plamen!

Posted on September 19, 2011 by Yoshke in Emo, Friends, Personal Life |

“What’s in Bulgaria that is well worth a visit?” I asked a friend when he suggested that I visit Bulgaria after telling him that my ultimate dream was to tour Europe.

For the longest time, Bulgaria had no significance in my life. Back then this East European state was just another country to me. I knew that its capital is Sofia. I could correctly identify it on the map. But that was all. When I said I wanted to visit Europe, I meant Germany, France, Britain, Spain, Italy. Not Bulgaria.

But something happened.

Six years ago, I hit rock bottom. Weeks before my college graduation, family problems and friendship issues had all caved in on me and I did not intend to get out of the rubbles. We’ve been to that place, the rock bottom. This hard, dark place might look and feel different to each of us but our reaction is always the same regardless — seek help. Hitting record lows emotionally is bad enough. But it is not “being there” per se that kills; it is the realization that no friend is there to lend a hand.

Every morning, waking up was such a chore. At night, though I was more alive, I felt like a zombie. It was during this time when I always found myself alone in more ways than one. I would sit there, try to blog something, and log into my web accounts. I would just stare at my friends list, wonder which of them would understand me, and find no one. That was the point when I just cried for help. Luckily for me, someone answered.

In 2006, I met someone online by accident. Online friends were not new to me. As a blogger, I develop friendships with other bloggers even before I meet them. But this online friend was not a blogger and he was not from here. At the time, he lived at a provincial town in a humble country in Europe. I don’t remember how we got virtually close but there was something about him that I found welcoming and comfortable. He spoke good English. He was very goodlooking. He made me laugh every time we talked. Although he lived on the other side of the planet, he was my constant companion.

I was not the kind of person who would find refuge in a stranger. But I needed someone to talk to — no matter how physically distant, no matter how virtual. Many times I had considered myself pathetic or desperate for having a friend that I had not even met personally. But eventually I realized there was nothing wrong with being able to share bits of my life with him. After all, I needed to get up and get out of that dark place.

Single-handedly, he pulled me out of it.

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Welcome to the New Yoshke.com

Posted on August 29, 2011 by Yoshke in Blurts, Whatnots |

New look. New attitude. New experiences.

Honestly, I had been neglecting this blog the past few weeks because of my awfully hectic schedule. Work had been unforgiving on weekdays and I had been traveling on weekends. There had been moments when I felt like I lost the drive to blog. I needed a new inspiration.

The “inspiration” was not really an inspiration but a wake-up call. It came in the form of a global hacking incident. My blog had been affected and unavailable over the weekend, along with many other blogs. I realized I shouldn’t take this blog for granted for this contains the good 6 years of my life. After fixing it, I decided to give it a new look and promised myself to blog more frequently, especially the many remarkable experiences, realizations, and encounters I’ve had the past few weeks.

If you’re new to this blog, allow me to introduce this online journal. Yoshke.com is a personal blog, chronicling the simple, ordinary joys in life but somehow get me moved or entertained. Like I said on my About page, every person has a story. Every place brings back a memory. Every object triggers an emotion or a thought. What I blog about are these ordinary, average, little things, people and events in my life.

I’m a nobody. Nothing about me is extraordinary. All I can do is share some words about the little things, little happenings, little lives around me. But I have always believed that the universe is fueled by things common and little. And I hope that my personal experiences and thoughts would somehow touch, move, or inspire others the way they inspired me to blog. Even just a single person. Even just a little.

20 Comments

She Who Shines

Posted on August 16, 2011 by Yoshke in Conversations, Emo, Friends, Personal Life |

She came walking slowly towards me, sat beside me and introduced herself, “Hi! I’m Astrid.” Her name means “star.”

“I’m Yoshke,” I replied. Reluctantly, I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” The whole thing was totally weird to me.

It was the moment when, I think, she and I truly became friends. I wouldn’t say we became inseparable since then but I missed her every time we were apart. From then on, we became distant companions. Although we lived miles away, I knew I could rely on her any damn time. She would text me whenever she was around and she would always invite me to an afternoon of enjoying street food. Or just a day of doing nothing at all.

She’s like that every time. She appears whenever she feels like it and I can always expect her to constantly flicker in and out of my world. She’s like a friend from an alternate universe. She’s a flicker of joy. Every moment with her is short, is sweet, is a recurring dream, something I always look forward to and enjoy when it finally comes. She’s the twinkle every dreamer, who has been endlessly watching a certain star, waits patiently for.

She and I seldom get in touch but I always make a point she’s one of the first to know whenever I experience a sudden surge of emotions — when I’m down, when I’m extremely happy. And even when nothing happens, I send her a random, sometimes almost empty, message just to let her know a dreamer is thinking of a star.

One time in Puerto Princesa City, on the way to Crocodile Park, we were in a trike and sat silently next to each other. “I love this,” she uttered. “Do you remember this one scene in Pulp Fiction?”

“Which scene?” I asked, intrigued.

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About Yoshke

On May 31, 1985, tragedy struck when 41 tornadoes hit Canada and the US, leaving 76 people dead. At the same time, a doomed couple in the Philippines were having the best orgasms of their lives. Nine months (280 days) later, a healthy baby boy was brought into this world by normal delivery. That was exactly a week before Microsoft had its initial public offering.

Today, Yoshke Dimen resides independently in Mandaluyong City. He got a degree in Film from a university in Diliman but is now pursuing a career in Social Media.

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