Thursday, June 30, 2005


I have uploaded some sixty photos from my KK trip, though I have yet to add the descriptions.

Click here and enjoy.

Keys to the heart

I am still in a holiday mood and can’t get over the KK trip. What an absolutely fantabulous and extremely enjoyable trip it was. More importantly, it is the people that I miss.

La di da, life goes on.

I have been writing about KK for the last four posts. Thus, I shall not write anymore about KK; it will only stoke my memories and wish I was back there again.

Let’s talk about something else for a change – me.

Warning: This is a self-indulgent post.

I was reading savante’s latest post, Key to my heart. I don’t usually do online tests to find out what personality I am, level of gayness or straightness, do I look good in pink, what animal would I be in my next life, how many pets would I have when I am old, etc.

But my curiousity was piqued. Thus, I decided to take the test.

Furthermore, this has also come up in one of my conversations with LP. And if you take a look at the quote (posted on Monday) above my chatterbox, you will notice that this topic just begs to be written about.

And so, my results say that:

1) You are attracted to good manners and elegance.
2) In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored
3) You'd like to your lover to think you are loyal and faithful... that you'll never change
4) You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please.
5) Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with.
6) Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.
7) You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.
8) In this moment, you think of love as something you don't need. You just feel like flirting around and playing right now.

Not unlike savante, it seems to be uncannily accurate. I tried to play around with my answers and check whether similar sounding descriptions come up. They don’t.

You are attracted to good manners and elegance.

Generally, who doesn’t? But I was this close to choosing the other one, You are attracted to those who have a split personality - cold as ice on the outside but hot as fire in the heart.

In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored
Not that far off from the truth. I mean, I would not want to fall into a routine and we take the relationship for granted. A little spark and spice occasionally would definitely be nice.

My second answer would have gotten me this: In love, you feel the most alive when your partner is patient and never willing to give up on you.

I don’t mind that either. In fact, I would like him to be creative, patient and not give up on me. Yup, I want everything. Wouldn't that be great?

You'd like to your lover to think you are loyal and faithful... that you'll never change
Yeah, he can continue thinking like that, while I have some er … ‘fun activities’ outside. Just kidding. Hey, I am not like that all.

Frankly, I would very much like a boyfriend to be loyal and faithful. Needless to say, I will be too.

But If the unthinkable should happen, if he really can’t keep his pants on, at least be a gentleman. Be unfaithful together. Threesomes (or more) should be more fun, no? In this case, too many cooks do not spoil the soup.

Seriously though, I am a believer in monogamy.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please
No surprises here. And of course, if someone has to be a diva, it should be me *grin*

Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with.
Isn’t this part of the monogamy package?

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.
I couldn’t put it better myself. So any takers out there?

You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.
Monogamy and the whole works again.

In this moment, you think of love as something you don't need. You just feel like flirting around and playing right now.
Not exactly true, but not untrue either.

Hmmm, this post is beginning to look suspiciously like a personal. I swear, this has turned out to be totally different from what I had in mind.

I suppose I should stop now.

And by the way, the queue starts here. *wink*

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Climb Mt Kinabalu: checked

Obviously, I can’t talk about my trip to KK without at least saying how the hike was.

Some brief facts. The highest peak, ironically called Low’s Peak (named after Sir Hugh Low who first scaled the mountain) is 4095.2 m.

Climbers usually spend a night at the resthouse at Laban Rata, located 3,273m above sea level. They continue the climb at two or three in the morning to catch the sun rise before six.

By the way, the trail is six kilometers to Laban Rata. From there, the summit is another 2.7 km away.

We were lucky as the weather was good and sunny when we started from the Timpohon Gate (the other trail is called Mesilau, which is more difficult and longer). There was a cool breeze and everything seemed to be going fine.

As it is to be expected, the trail is mostly sloping upwards and staircase-like. Surrounded on both sides by lush greenery and trees, the sight was truly beautiful.

[I have uploaded less than five pictures. Will post the link once I am done.]

When I showed the pictures I took to my colleagues, some of them were even tempted to go. It goes without saying that I do take great photos. *head swells*

I reached Laban Rata a little after three. It rained about half an hour later. Indeed, we were lucky to have just missed the rain.

But then, the rain kept falling without any signs of letting up. It rained into the night right till midnight, when we got up to get ready for the night hike.

Predictably, we were worried that we might not even be able to do so, as the guides may deem the trail as too dangerous for climbing in this weather.

Fortunately, lady luck was on our side as the guides gave the go-ahead and we left Laban Rata at 2.30am. Even though the clouds have yet to clear up and it was still drizzling.

Thus, began the climb to the top. It was dark and almost everyone had a torch light. When I looked back at the people behind me, I could see a long trail of tiny moving lights.

There is one more checkpoint before the summit, Sayat-Sayat, which is 3,680m above sea level. Simple calculation shows that the summit is 400m higher, but the remaining trail is another 1.5km. By the way, we have to show our permit before we could continue.

Technically, you could then turn back here and still get the certificate, as there is no one sitting atop the summit to verify that you have actually climbed to the top. I didn’t even thought of that till YF pointed it out to me.

The whole point of hiking up in the wee hours of the morning is to catch the sunrise. Which I did, but not at the top. Sadly, I mistimed how long it would take to reach the summit.

When I was at Sayat-Sayat, it was 4.15am. I thought I would average a kilometer per hour and would still be able to make it in time to the peak (sunrise is at six).

I ended up about 300m away from the summit when the sun rose and I managed to snap a few shots from there.

The temperature was actually quite bearable, as climbing itself generates body heat. The guide told us earlier that it could reach zero degree. Though I think it was higher that day, perhaps five or six degrees.

It was the chilling wind that made my hands freezing cold and numb. And it was just my luck that YF happened to turn up at that moment, when I finished taking the picturesque view around me and putting the camera back into the case and putting on my gloves.

YF has an uncanny ability of mistiming. I still remember this incident which happened last month. He hasn’t called in a long time and when he called, I was (you wouldn’t have guessed in a thousand years) right in the middle of my professional exam. Twice.

But I digress. So I had to expose my poor freezing hands to the elements longer and take the camera out again. Worse was to come, as I the first few shots didn’t turn out right and I had to adjust the settings. All in all, I took about seven pictures of him, of which two turned out OK.

The consolation was, he took one measly photo of me.

Anyway, back to the climb. People were coming down from the peak. Six of my group members had already taken enough photos from the summit and now descending, as I made the final 200m distance to the top.

To say the least, Low’s Peak is kinda disappointing. There is not much space for standing and at any one time, maybe just ten person could fit comfortably. But the view around me was truly astoundingly breathtaking. I couldn’t put it in words here, they wouldn’t do justice; you have to be there to see it for yourself.

There are actually other peaks around Low’s Peak, such as Ugly Sister, Donkey Ears, Victoria, etc. They have such charming names, haven’t they? And Victoria Peak kind of looks like a monkey face.

After taking enough photos, I began my descent. Why, who should I meet again but YF? I was about 10m from the summit when he saw me and asked me to take pictures of him at the top.

Generally, I am a nice person. But I definitely would not climb up there again.

As such, we had a compromise. I stayed where I was and he climbed to the peak. From my position, I used my Panasonic FZ5 with 12x optical zoom to capture a shot of him. And about five other people too.

So I had to take another shot, after he asked the others to stand further from him and the sign which says ‘Low’s Peak (4095.2m)’.

Finally, I clambered down from the peak. Probably of my bad karma or something, but I could feel a headache coming. Which turned into a terrible, throbbing, please-make-it-stop-I-can-barely-walk-straight-anymore and I-promise-I-will-be-nice-and-do-anything one.

The last bit was exaggerated, but the truth is, it was painful and I felt like lying down right there and then and wait till it goes away. But of course I couldn’t and had to continue downhill.

The descent was actually more difficult than going up. I mean, going up a 70-degree slope is definitely easier than going down. I just have to bend and lower my body a bit as I climb, whereas it is easier to slip for going downhill. Furthermore, my toes were hurting like crazy. I had to walk sideways or repel.

In addition, when it was dark, I had no idea how steep some of the slopes were. In bright daylight, looking at the same slope, I was wondering how on earth did I manage to get up there?

Definitely more difficult and scarier going down. Perhaps this is another reason why we had to hike before dawn: not to freak everyone out.

I took less three hours to reach Laban Rata, almost the same time as going up, no thanks to the headache. Though I was thankful that I met YF again and he helped carried my bag for the final 500m.

From Laban Rata back to Timpohan Gate, my thighs and hamstrings were hurting. I took four hours to reach Timpohon and came out (finally) at 3.15pm.

Frankly, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Unlike YF who said that ‘If I ever have the crazy idea of going hiking again, you have the liberty to give me two slaps. Wait, make it ten.’

I actually enjoyed the lovely scenery and the superb view along the way more than reaching the summit itself. The journey was more worthwhile to me than the destination.

Which is strange, really. Before this, I expected to feel truly elated after conquering Mount Kinabalu. Somehow, the feeling is more subdued, a quiet sense of achievement.

Climb Mount Kinabalu: checked. Next: Bungee jumping.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

It's the people that matter Part II

The ex
I think I mentioned in my previous post that my ex, YF, was on this trip as well.

Call me bitter or a sour puss, but I regretted a little to have invited him to come along. We were still together when we signed up for this in February.

I find his presence annoying. I find him to be annoying.

Perhaps I can’t believe how stupid I was to have liked him. Or it could be my bruised ego. Or that I am being too hard on myself and taking it out by disliking him.

If I recall correctly, I think I have called him only once after we broke up. The kind of courtesy call that goes how-are-you, glad-you-are-fine, just-wanna-know-what-you-have-been-up-to, great, see-you-around.

He called me about five times, but mostly they were about the KK trip.

On the plus side though, he was kind enough to help carry my bag when I was coming down from the summit, as I was having a terrible headache.

But that didn’t change my negative feelings towards him. I do realise it is pointless and I need to overcome this pettiness.

The other climbers
There were quite a number of Singaporeans who went up the mountain. Some were of college-going age, others in their mid-20s. There was this one Singaporean who caught my eye. He wore a bright orange shirt with matching visor.

Of course, he is cute too.

Needless to say, I was teased when I told the LP and CH.

And we started the topic of what kind of guys I like. SP and CH noticed that I like twinky looking guys. Which I immediately object to. I mean, I like guys who look young, clean shaven, decent and thin ... OMG, I do like twinks.

Strange how I have never realised this, till they pointed it out to me. And I have always thought of myself as introspective and deep. Hmmph.

Still, I believe that is just for eye-candy. To enjoy looking doesn’t equal desire to date, does it? Personally, I prefer someone who turns me on intellectually; am comfortable with and makes me laugh, amongst other things.

Besides that, I also did notice these two guys. One of them, the older of the two, has a slight moustache and someone else in my group also pointed him out as his type. He speaks Cantonese, but with a nice ring and pronunciation. The other one looked like in his early twenties.

Initially, I thought he is a Japanese who can speak Cantonese. He is actually from Beijing, but he has stayed in Hong Kong for several years.

How did I end up talking to them and found out about this?

As all of us had different pace and level of fitness, we were scattered around. There is only one trail, so there is no worry about getting lost. I was somewhere in the middle with no one I know around me, except for the couple. Naturally, I stuck with them and their guide.

I didn’t want to intrude their photo-taking sessions or their conversations. Inadvertently, I was listening to their conversation. They were going, ‘Come, let’s stand there and I’ll take a pic of you.’ and 'Are you OK? Do you wanna stop for a while?'

Aww, so sweet. Not surprisingly, I came to the conclusion that they are a gay couple. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside and I was truly happy for them. Perhaps I was secretly hoping that I would have someone like that, who enjoyed the same activity as I do and we can do things together.

So I said to the younger one as he was nearer to me, though I think the other heard too, “In case I don’t see you again, I just want to say that you two make a very good team and a great couple.’

That turned out to be an opener and that’s how we started talking.

Back to me
Overall, I really enjoyed this trip. It reminded me of those days when I went for inter-school trips or national level workshops like BRATs, where I didn’t know anyone and had to start making new friends. And it’s so much more fun this time around as we are all gays. Well, almost all.

Still, this was one memorable trip. And it definitely won't be my last.

Monday, June 27, 2005

It's the people that matter

The gay ones
On this trip, I became close to LP since we shared the same room. And bed.

Anyway, LP is just coming to terms with his sexuality. He has never given much thought about it, even though he has tried to deny and ignore the fact. Fortunately, he found out about a support group in Singapore, Oogachaga (name inspired by the dancing baby in Ally McBeal), where he got to know of other people and they share their experiences.

At the risk of sounding like I love my own voice a lot (not that I don't), I shared my own coming out experience, followed by a question and answer session. Not that I know a lot, but I tried to answer his questions and told him whatever that I could based on my experience.

He confessed that this was his first time too. As in, first time in telling so much to another person he barely knew.

I was of course honoured that he was comfortable enough to do so.

One thing that I really like about him is that he is a good listener. It's very hard to find someone like that. It's not easy listening without thinking ahead of what you want to say or the mind wandering. This is due to the fact we think very much faster than we can speak.

Before we parted, he gave me a postcard. That was really sweet of him. With what he has written, I could have fallen for him.

Another person whom I found interesting is CH, the doctor. Of course, the job itself is a source of some good-natured teasing. 'Yes, doc. If you say so, doc.'

I didn't expect him to read my blog. I thought he would have just read my coming out, as I have posted the link in the LPG yahoogroups. He has read that and he praised me for my courage for coming out.

And he also said that I have a kind and sensitive soul. In addition, I write well. And other lavish praises.

Now, who wouldn’t melt with words like that? No wonder he is a doctor. After all, his job is to make people feel better. I am pretty sure there is a long queue of nurses at his door.

Also, CH is very much an activist in his own way. He is smart, funny, strong (he carried his own 11kg backpack up and down the mountain – not an easy feat that). And very pro-gay and equal rights and involved in the gay community.

Here's a thought. If I were to bring him home to meet mom, she would definitely approve.

Moreover, people generally listen to what the doctor says, don't they? If he were to say to mom, 'Your son is suffering from a critical lack of romantic love and companionship. And you are looking at the cure itself.'

I am pretty sure she would squeal with delight. LOL.

Last but not least, there is SS. As I was the youngest in the group, he was kinda like the big brother to me. Oh, and we had a lot of fun flirting and taking the mickey out of each other.

He is really helpful and generous. Why, he even send me back home from the airport. I am really grateful for all that he has done for me on this trip.

The straight ones
There were two straight guys in our group. And no, they are not closet gays or bisexuals.

Actually, I have difficulty understanding why straight people would want to join a gay group outing. Perhaps I am discriminating and generalising the straight population of being close-minded and homophobic. I mean, if I were straight, I don’t think I would do the same.

Still, I am glad that the two straight guys joined us. Or at least, one of them, KS, did. He got along well with everyone, even made jokes and laughed with us when we indulged in our colourful conservations and favourite pastime of guy-watching. Probably it helped that he has a female hairdresser friend and he knows other gay people through her.

Now, that is one rare and definitely in my good books kind of straight guy.

I am not one to usually bad-mouthed other people, but I think almost all of us were uncomfortable with the other person, who happens to be straight.

I don't think there is another way of putting this, but CW is weird. He didn’t join our card games, sat all by himself most of the time and seldom joined in our conservation.

However, when I talked to him on the flight to KK, I found him to be generally quite a nice person. We talked about many things including relationship. Though I was taken aback a little when he asked about my sex life.

As a result of the airplane conversation, I was mistaken as his friend. Not to say I am not his friend, but I only met him for the very first time the night before. My ex, YF, was the one who invited him to come along.

His er ... idiosyncrasy only showed after we arrived in KK.

On the first night in KK, I was asked what’s wrong with my friend and suggested that I go talk to him, when he locked the room door (supposedly to take his shower. But for more than half an hour?) and his room mate couldn’t get in.

Perhaps it was my mistake to have not taken YF seriously, when he mentioned that CW does not 'conform' and is 'different' for the sake of being different.

In addition, YF didn't even talked much to CW during the trip. In fact, they acted like they didn't even know each other. Shouldn't he at least get CW to join in or something?

When I asked YF that, he just shruged and said, 'He's like that lar.'


My Kota Kinabalu trip

Finally, I am back. I arrived back in KL yesterday late afternoon, around five. Had dinner and then reached home before seven.

Why do holidays always seem to whiz by but not office hours? It seemed just like yesterday that I arrived in Kota Kinabalu for the first time.

So here is my journal for the past four days:

Spent Wednesday night at one of the group member’s, CW, place. I don’t usually sleep well in foreign places (read: not my own bed) especially on the first night. I slept on the couch and sure enough, I barely got any shut eye.

Flight was at an ungodly hour of 7 a.m. Yes Will, at least you get paid to get up that early, so stop complaining.

We arrived at the airport fifteen minutes before five. The others arrived later in small groups.

Our group was made of eighteen wonderful, crazy and fun people. Not forgetting gorgeous. There was a Swede with us and he is part of a couple. In fact, they were the only couple, as the rest who are happily attached left their other half at home.

I have met almost all of them previously. I am not a morning person and I hadn’t had coffee, so I wasn’t in a conversational mood. But I could tell everyone was really excited about this trip and that enthusiasm got to me as well.


We touched down in KK at half past nine. Another member of our group, a Singaporean, LP had arrived earlier on Sunday to do some white-water rafting. He joined us at the airport half an hour later.

Oh, forgot to mention that there was a doctor with us, CH. A young, dashing, prim-and-proper doctor (not my own words). I felt so much safer already knowing that.

We proceeded to Kinabalu Pine Resort, which was two hours away from the city.

I don’t suppose all these are very interesting. Even I feel bored as I type this. So I am just going to share my thoughts and not what we did.

It would be in my next post though. But since I have written this, I will post this up anyway.

In case you are interested in how the hike was, there are many others who have written better descriptions of the climb.

And I will be posting a link for the photos soon.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

My family vacation

I will be going to Kota Kinabalu tomorrow. My flight is at an ungodly hour: seven in the morning. Oh well.

Anyway, I came back from Port Dickson yesterday in the late afternoon. It was a truly relaxing holiday.

There were no arguments, tantrums or quarrels. For once, peace prevailed the whole time. In fact, this was the best family vacation, as far as I can remember.

You see, Dad with his short fuse would easily get upset about minor stuff. Like not waking up early in the morning to go for breakfast. Early means before eight.

Basically, all I did was sleep, swim, read, eat and play pool. In no particular order.

Anyway, the place was really nice. The chalets were Malay-village style, with palm trees everywhere. We stayed in a chalet. Mine was facing the kids pool.

In addition, there were many Singaporeans. I assumed they were having a school break, because everywhere I looked, there were kids below 12 with their parents and maid. There were some couples too.

And then, there was this Japanese guy. Let’s refer to him as J from here. I was swimming with my brother in one end of the pool and J was at the other end, sunning himself with his eyes closed on a deckchair. I suppose he wanted to get a tan.

And he was all by himself. No accompanying female in sight.

My mom and dad were also at the poolside reading the newspaper.

I was in the pool just soaking and doing lazy laps. Of course I tried to swim to the other side as often as I could. About half an hour in the pool, J decided that he had enough of tanning and he jumped in to the pool.

Let me describe J a bit. He has a light moustache and a bit of a goatee. Looks was a bit above average. But he has a really nice body, not too built, just enough muscle definition. Very swimmer’s built-like. And his speedos were hanging quite low, but not low enough, as if to tease me to pull it down.

Maybe it was just my imagination.

He started swimming across the pool. He swam really slow, with his head above water. After about five minutes, he got back out. He lied on the pool side, face down. Now must be his back’s turn to get tan, I suppose.

He was facing away from the pool. But he would turn to face the pool occasionally. I swam over to his side of the pool (not by his side) and there was once he seemed to be looking at me. I couldn’t tell for sure, as I didn’t wear my glasses. But I could tell he was looking at my direction.

In my head, I was thinking what is this cute Japanese guy doing all by himself on vacation? My next thought was, I have to find out which room he stays in.

Following thought: mom is watching, so can't really strike up a conversation. She knows I am gay, but she does not need to see me chatting up cute Japanese guys in speedos.

A while later he left the pool. I followed suit, but not quick enough. I lost him somewhere after the recreation counter (a counter where one can get towels and other board games).

But then he retraced and came to the counter. He asked something and then I heard him say in a very masculine and deep voice, ‘Thank you.’

He proceeded to the steam room. I proceeded to my room. The steam room was about 30m from my room.

Family had decided to shower and then go for lunch. In twenty minutes. I tell you, patience doesn’t run in my family.

I was sharing a room with my brother and he decided to shower first. Leaving me to think, ‘Shall I join him in the steam room? I don’t have much time. And for goodness sakes, you are with family. Family vacation, remember?’

After deliberating for about ten seconds, I decided, ‘Fine, I’ll just take a peek into the room and then leave. Maybe he is not even gay.’

So I went into the steam room. As I swing open the door, he was walking by near the entrance.

Naked. Not a strand of clothing. Full naked glory. And he looked nonchalant.

I really tried to not stare. I also tried to quickly imprint the image in my memory.

A few moments later, I reluctantly looked away. And I got a nice glimpse of his ass as he walked back into the steam room.

I don’t think I should describe his endowments. But they were like, wow. *smacks lips*

I then walked over to the basin. I looked at myself into the mirror and reminded myself to breathe.

It was only us in the room. Should I go and join him in the steam room? I know you guys would say yes.

But I didn’t. For one, I was too busy looking southward that I did not look at his face. I did, but I didn’t register anything in my head.

Though I was pretty sure that he didn’t give me any encouraging non-verbal signs to join him. No nodding with the head. No smile. Zilch.

I can't possibly join him without being asked, can I? Besides, my family wanted to go for lunch. No, I can’t screw them and say they can have lunch without me. THIS is a family vacation.

Though I badly wanted to.

So, I adjusted my hair and left the room.

He was gone when I went back after I had lunch. Damn.

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Temporarily on hold

I went for a wedding of a colleague this morning. It was a garden wedding and it was also a Christian one.

Later tonight, there is the wedding dinner.

Tomorrow, I will be going to Port Dickson. And it's not with someone I just met. It's a family vacation.

Finally on Thursday, in the wee hours of the morning, I will be flying to Kota Kinabalu.

And that is my itinerary for next week. Which means no updating of the blog for about a week.

Rest assured all my experience would be written down. Especially the KK trip.

Happy blogging and take care, all.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Of first and second loves

Love is such a multifaceted thing.

People do weird and crazy things when they are in love. They go to great lengths (or maybe just the nearest gay bar) to look for the one they love.

Seriously though, I don’t think I have ever been in love, if any of the popular notions of love were anything to go by.

I don’t get weak in the knees, butterflies in the stomach, faster heartbeats or turn into a one-year-old who is learning to speak.

If I had those, it would be more like before I make an important presentation.

Reading spot's spot (so what is love then?) reminded me of my own experience.

My No 1 was two and a half years ago, back in October 2002. I still remember clearly how the relationship started. The furtive night phone calls and probing questions of ‘who called’ asked by mom. Those were dangerous times.

I am not sure I should be even calling it a relationship. At the time, I was just out of the closet and it seemed like an opportune moment to have what everyone around me had – someone special and this thing called a relationship.

Yeah, so you could say that I was in love with the notion of love itself. Just like spot did.

Which of course doomed the ‘relationship’ from the very start. Of course, not knowing how he looked like physically was also not a very smart move on my part.

Things didn’t get better the second time around. Clearly, I hadn’t learnt my lesson.

For No 2, it began with him clicking on my personal on fridae. We exchanged a couple of emails and finally contact number. I was bored on New Year’s Day and decided to give him a call (after a very sexually-unsatisfying New Year’s eve).

We got along quite well, though he was coughing incessantly. A very bad cough which he had at the time. He was working in Penang, but he is from PJ. He sometimes come back home on weekends.

Over the phone, we gushed lovey-dovey things to each other, making promises that were meant to be kept but were not, planned for things which never happened and had phone sex. Oh wait, the phone sex came later.

I have learnt my lesson now (yeah, so what if I am slow in this whole dating game?), phone calls does not a relationship make. We met the first time three weeks after that first contact and spend a weekend at Port Dickson.

Of course, as the place of the name suggests, we had some dick-sessions. But there was no penetrative sex (it was the first meet up after all). We both agreed to take things slow.

Looking back, I can say for sure now that this relationship was another mistake. I don’t deny that he is an interesting person, kinda witty, smart, and er … good with his hands.

What I didn’t find so appealing were his unpunctuality and forgetfulness. Minor things actually, but now I know that these two things are important to me.

I admit that the concept and the idea of love is appealing. Who doesn’t, when we grow up with stories like Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast and movies like Titanic and Sleepless in Seattle? Someone who will be there for me, like me for who I am, help me stand when I fall and tell me everything would be alright and we’re in this together? Cooking and washing are bonuses though.

Of course, I am not a selfish prick and he could expect the same from me.

And it is painfully obvious that my approach to starting a relationship has more misses than hits. Perhaps it’s time I emulate Jay’s method of sex first, then relationship.

Back to No 2. So what was the cause of the breakup? Yes, he dumped me. And all because he didn’t know what he wanted.

Further explanation: No 2 came out to the scene about a year before we met and started to meet people. To him, he thinks he is a bit late on the scene. He wanted to try out the scene first before settling down with someone. After all, there are many fishes in the sea he hasn’t tried.

In his own words, ‘While I still have my youth and in demand’. He’s twenty five, by the way. Although, if he were to find someone suitable for a long term relationship, he would give it a try.

Obviously he can’t have the cake and eat it too. Those are two conflicting wants – to play the field and to have a relationship. And yes, I have heard of such a thing called open relationship.

Now, I am not such a prude to say that I am totally against it, though I don’t think I would be the one to propose it in a relationship. But if a couple was starting out on a relationship, surely an open relationship is inappropriate? To me, an open relationship is a possibility and can be given serious thought only when the relationship has developed further and has a more stable footing.

As such, it was clear that he decided to sow his seeds. And he also realized that I was not what he wanted. He said I was not sexually attractive to him and he never, and couldn’t, move past friendship to romance.

Even though he was being honest (remarkably so) about the reasons and it was better for me to know then rather than later, it still hurt like hell. Emotionally and mentally.

I took a little less than a week to get over him and the hurt, even though the relationship only lasted nine weeks. And he told me all these in Coffee Bean, five days before my birthday.

Fortunately, my birthday cheered me up a lot. I had four celebrations, so it was more like a birthday week.

So yeah, I don’t think I have ever been in love.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

The one where I ran in a race with a nozzle

Life is boring without new challenges, interest or embarrassment to spice things up a bit.

I have been going to the gym for about nine months now. So when I found out that my company was organizing an inter-department athletics meet, I thought, ‘Well, that sounds like fun.’

So I signed up for the 800m event.

It was my first competitive athletics event. Heck, it was my first competitive sports event, excluding bedroom sports.

Anyway, the actual meet itself was on Sunday. I was up at six thirty and I was at the stadium by eight thirty. The 800m was scheduled for ten thirty.

Some info about the training that I had done. Actually, there was almost none. Well, there were a couple of days of training the week before. And that was it.

The weeks before, my gym visits were put on hold due to the exam at the end of May. As you can see, I had yet to get back into my training routine and it was still on hold even after the exam.

Yup, you could say that I was way over myself when I signed up for it. Not that I regretted it.

On Sunday, I was nervous. Nervous about how my performance was gonna be. Trepidation about embarassing myself (what if I trip and fall?). And I have this recurring fear that my shorts would fall off (now is not the time to psycho-anaylse).

At the back of my head, I could hear myself, ‘Just relax and do your best. You are supposed to have fun anyway. Don’t worry, you’ll do fabulously.’

There were eight of us. The others looked like seasoned runners. Tall and leggy. No cute ones though (Stop it. How could you think of such things before your big splash into the hall of fame, or worse, shame?)

Anyway, we were at the starting line. Muscles all tensed up. Sweat dripping. Brain saying, ‘Run like you have never run before.’

Before I knew it, the gun was fired and we ran. I managed to keep up with the pack for the first 200m.

Unexpectedly, I was trailing after 200m. After one lap (400m), I was eating everyone's dusts from 50m away.

This was not good, not good at all.

There was hope yet, as the person in front of me seemed to be slowing down.

‘Aha, there is a chance that one person will eat my dust.’

I dug up whatever reserves I have. I was closing in on him. 100m away from the finishing line, we were shoulder to shoulder.

At this point, I could hear my colleagues cheering me on to sprint the final distance. Digging deeper, I pushed myself to carry my two legs faster.

‘Come on, come on.’ I was telling myself.

And indeed, I was in front of him perhaps by a meter or two. He was on my left.

Final 50m now.

I saw his shadow approaching. Very quickly.

Final 40m.

Apparently, he has been preserving his energy all this while. Or he has deeper reserves. Whatever it was, he overtook me in that final 40m.

So, yeah, I was last.

On the bright side, my time was better than the practice one. 3:13 against 3:37.

And I am not going to disclose what the winning time was.

Though on the not-so-bright side, after crossing the finishing line, I collapsed.

It was no laughing matter, OK? I literally ran out of fuel and exhausted whatever energy I have. And I sat on the grass for the whole of ten minutes.

But still, I am proud of myself. I will be back again next year with a vengeance.

I would like to end with this little gem. How very true, don't ya think?
"Remember that if men were not meant to be sucked, their bodies wouldn't have come with a nozzle!" – Anonymous

[By the way, the winning time was 2:24. He ran like it was a 200m sprint. He must have been on steroids or he hasn’t been getting any. Hmmph.]

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

As you may have known, I will be going to Kinabalu next week, to climb that big gigantic mound of earth. One of the things-to-do-in-before-I-die.

It’s only a week away and obviously I am excited.

Anyway, I was in the LRT this morning when I bumped into a colleague of mine who works at the headquarters. I told her that I will be going to climb Kinabalu next week.

‘You are going to climb Kinabalu?’ she asked, eyebrow arched with a look of disbelief.

But I am pretty sure what was running in her head was, ‘Yeah, right. You don't even look like you can kill a spider and you want to climb the highest peak in South East Asia?’

What I find unbelievable is that there are people who think that I couldn’t do it. Do I look like some kinda wimp? Someone who will scream at the sight of a bat? And complain that the thin and dry air is bad for my skin? What do people take me for?

(No, you don’t have to answer that.)

Fine, I may not be the most butch or masculine-looking person around. But still, I do usually pass off as straight.

Seriously though, the point that bugs me is the tendency to put other people down. OK, maybe putting down is too strong, more like please-take-an-honest-look-at-yourself-in-the-mirror-and-tell-me-again-what-
. Very seldom do I come across people who are supportive and encouraging.

Let me illustrate. I have been wearing glasses since I was four. This I can surely say is hereditary. I can still remember clearly how I looked like when I was in kindergarten. Recall that spectacles back then were huge. Imagine the face of a cute six-year-old (hey, no sniggering).

Now, put those two together and you would have an image of a child with glasses five times the size of his eyes and took up half the size of his face.

With glasses that big and which without my vision would be blurry, I was always reminded to be careful. So, parents being parents, they would go, ‘Oh, be careful when you play on the swings.’ or ‘Watch out when you run or skip or jump or do anything that a curious and inquisitive six-year-old is likely to do.’

As such, being the good kid that I was, I listened to their advice. To this day, I clearly remember that, during recess, I would be standing by the sidelines under a tree, looking at my classmates have fun, chase each other and play games.

For that, I have fair skin. I would rather have my fun and games childhood anytime, thank you very much.

Now, you can’t blame me for being not very enthusiastic about things in general. I may not be an Energizer bunny with boundless energy and enthusiasm, but I do think that I am not some depressive, happiness-sucker like Dementors either. (Please refrain from making jokes at this point).

Truthfully though, I was described as ‘serious, moody, intense’ back in high school, or so I have been told. People change over time and so have I.

Inadvertently, I think my upbringing has inculcated a sense of daring-do in me. Mind you, not a very strong one though. I don’t think of myself as an adrenaline-chaser, but bungee-jumping and skydiving do appear on my list of things-to-do-before-I-die.

Sometimes, I do wonder if my daring-do behaviour is to get back at my parents and show them that their fears are grounded, but quite unfounded.

I think I have veered off from my point.

Back to the point that bugged me – the tendency of putting other people down. I might be wrong, but somehow, I think it is more common in Asian society. How often do people tell you to go for your dreams no matter what it takes? To encourage you to get up and try again when you fall?

‘I want to be an astronaut when I grow up.’
‘Astronaut? For what? Do you know how dangerous it is? The rocket might blow up or there might be engine failure or 101 other kind of malfunction. You want to die young is it?’

‘I want to be a millionaire before I reach 30.’
‘Sure, in your dreams. Or if you strike the lottery. Other people work hard until they retire also don’t have a million dollars and you want to be a millionaire by 30?

‘I want to start my own business.’
‘Very risky. Income not stable. Where are you going to get the capital? If you use your own savings, you might lose everything. Now you have a good job that pays you a monthly income, not good enough ar?’

‘I am looking for a long-term relationship.’
‘Haha. *can’t stop laughing* Don’t be so na├»ve and idealistic. There’s no such thing in the gay community. Everyone is just looking for casual sex. Who wants to be tied down by a relationship?’

If what they say is true, how come there are still astronauts (China put a man in space), millionaires below 30 (mostly technopreneurs) and long term relationships (I have heard of a gay couple who celebrated their 20-year anniversary).

Our perceptions and outlook on life are shaped by our experiences and beliefs. And one’s beliefs are hard to change, even when confronted with the facts. This article shows that beliefs are designed to enhance our ability to survive and they are biologically designed to be strongly resistant to change. How, we wonder, are people able to hold beliefs that contradict the data? To change beliefs, skeptics must address the brain's "survival" issues of meanings and implications in addition to discussing their data.

The above article is another interesting read, highly recommended. It does provide a logical explanation to human behaviour, such as homophobia, cynicism, racism, rigidity in thinking, differing outlook on life, etc.

Of course, this leads to the question of how specific beliefs were formed, and not others, in the first place. Anyone who comes across research which answers this, please let me know.

Monday, June 13, 2005

If I do come out straight ...

Thanks gentlemen, for all those wonderful comments. Yeah, so now I am out, proud and loud. *laugh*

As I have mentioned previously, coming out is a very personal experience. Think it through once, twice, ten times, before you actually do it (if you are thinking about it).

And now, there is the problem of the other parent though. Maybe, he might not even know about it in his lifetime.


"If I do come out straight I'll be so mentally unstable and depressed it won't matter ... I'll be back in therapy again. This is not good--"

That was the opening sentence to an email that I received yesterday. It’s about a 16 year-old, Zack, who is sent to a ‘fundamentalist Christian program for gays’ (in his own words). He is in Tennessee, U.S. To read more, please click here. Zack's blog is here.

It is indeed inhuman, bordering on evil, the things people would do to try to fit in. I mean, they are the parents, for goodness sake.

Zack wrote:

They (the parents) tell me that there is something psychologically wrong with me, and they "raised me wrong." I'm a big screw up to them, who isn't on the path God wants me to be on. So I'm sitting here in tears, joining the rest of those kids who complain about their parents on blogs - and I can't help it.

Which reminded me of an episode in Queer As Folk, when Justin came home, a few days after he was told to leave his house by his dad.

Justin’s dad: If you are gonna live in this house, there are rules you need to obey. You are not to go to gay bars or talk about your disgusting lifestyle. And you will never, ever see him (Brian) again.

Brian: So in other words, for Justin to live here with you, he has to deny who he is, what he thinks and how he feels. Well, that's not love. That's hate.

I really want to blame something or someone, but I don’t know what or who. Religion? The parents? Politicians? Or all of them?

I am really thanking my lucky stars that I am in a better situation. And my heart goes out to Zack. I hope he will come back just as he is.


Oh, and I have added two new blog links: it's not rocket science and drowned glass.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

The day after

It has been more than 24 hours after my coming out.

Wow, it was indeed wonderful. The feeling of liberation and the gush of exhilaration. Leaving the musty smell of the closet and breathing in the fresh air. This is just awesome.

Truthfully though, I am actually kinda disappointed.

Call me a drama-queen but I was actually expecting a lot more from my coming out experience. Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps some vase-throwing and over-dramatic shouting and screaming? Or threats of you-better-turn-straight-or-you-leave-this-house-

As you have read, my mom was decidedly calm and understanding.

For aspiring closet-leavers, let me share with you the top three most awkward questions you will encounter when you come out to family. Or at least, I did. Answers given are just suggestions. You are welcome to use them, but I shall not be held responsible for the consequences.

1) You look at cute guys on the streets and you wanna ‘do’ them?
Of course not, I am not that cheap. Besides, nowadays departmental stores and boutiques are everywhere.

2) You mean you get turn on when you look at a penis, an erect penis?
Well, a penis is a penis is a penis. Though not just any penis. Size does matter, you know.

3) How on earth do you have sex with men?
First, you undress him. Then, you play ….. Oh my god, you mean you and dad never … ? *gasp* Then, where did I come from?

I suppose coming out loses its drama and anticipation after a while. By the way, I have come out to more than ten straight people – friends from secondary school and university mostly.

Am I getting used to it all already? The fear of the other person’s rejection (Please leave now. I don’t want to ever see you again.), the unbelief (How can you be gay? You look so normal.), the certainty questions (You sure you are gay? You sure this is not just a phase?), the curiosity (How does er ... a penis taste like?).

OK, I made the last one up. I have not come across anyone who asked me that. Maybe my friends were just being polite.

On the bright side though, I am actually glad that I am out to her. I have a feeling that things would be better between us. Our relationship will definitely improve.

I don’t need to hide my conversations with guys. I can tell her who are the friends I hang out with. Why, I can even bring my boyfriend home (when I have one). ‘Mom, meet Z. He’s my boyfriend. He’s sleeping over tonight.’

Having said that, the next thing that I would need to confess to her is: ‘You know the Kota Kinabalu trip I told you about? Yeah, I am actually going with nineteen other gay guys.’

Saturday, June 11, 2005

I am Officially Uncloseted Today

Today marked another milestone in my life.

I was doing a bit of revision this morning (had to start now, even though exam is in August). Mom was busy in the kitchen. Dad was at work. Brother was in taekwondo class.

Typical non-working Saturday morning for me. I couldn’t be more wrong.

Ok, the signs were there. When we were still together, my ex-boyfriend had said that I would definitely be found out by them. ‘Parents aren’t stupid, you know. Besides,’ he said, ‘it’s almost as if like you wanted them to find out.’

And earlier this month, I posted about the hazards of not coming out. I have also posted about one of the conversations I had with mom.

Yesterday, I did think about coming out, as the things that I was hiding from them seemed to be piling up very fast recently and it was getting tiresome.

Looking back, I think it all added up. Somehow, by writing and blogging about it, I think I have psyched myself up unconsciously.

So finally, when my mom asked, “Are you gay?” I said, though still with some hesitation ‘Yes.’

I know, you must think I am out of my mind.

But at the back of my head, I was thinking, ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’ (Warning: You are advice not to try this at home, unless you are 100 percent sure that you are ready.)

At first, she kept asking, ‘You think you are gay? How long have you thought you are gay?

‘I don’t think, I know I am. How long? Since form three.’ (it was form one actually. I still don’t know why I shave off two years).

She then moved on to gay friends. ‘How many gay friends do you have? Who amongst your friends that are gay?’

‘None from secondary school.’

‘Then from primary school, got is it?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘So who are those people you always chat online with anyway?’

‘I know them from the internet.’

‘Is Vincent gay?’ (Vincent is my best friend from secondary school. I am out to him, but still we are tight.)


‘Why can’t you be normal like other people? Girls are not attractive to you?’

‘No. And I am normal. Do you think I am not normal? I am still the son that you have always known.’

‘Yes, I know. But men and women are complementary. They fit each other sexually. How can two men be together?’

I avoided that for a while and added, ‘Besides, what most of the majority of the population do is not necessarily normal.'

Then I launched into gay myth-busting mode. Obviously, she needed more convincing about how normal homosexuality is. I gave her the usual facts: 4 percent of the male population, across all countries and cultures, are gay; existence of but undocumented cases of homosexuality in history (I mean, how many historians were or are gay?) and that AIDS is not a gay disease.

Apparently, she wasn’t as in the dark as I thought she was about homosexuality. She said that Chinese newspapers have reports and articles about homosexuals. They weren’t exactly negative portrayals, neither were they positive. They just presented the facts, which is more than I can say about the mainstream Malay and English dailies.

I can’t read Chinese to save my life, but I am real glad that she can.

‘Are you OK?’ (Stupid question, of course she was not OK.)

‘Don’t be too heartbroken.’

‘Of course I am heartbroken. Who would have thought that my own son is gay?’

‘Do you still love me?’

‘You are my son. Of course I love you no matter what. Nothing would ever change that. You think I’ll disown you or kill you or hurt you just because you are gay?’

I nodded.

‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier? So how come you have always denied it and assured me that you are normal?’

By hiding about my sexuality, I have also hidden a lot of other things about myself from her. I never realized to what extent, but now I do. My mom said she almost didn’t know me anymore. Yup, it was that bad.

She has no idea who my friends are and what I did outside.

She has always maintained that I could tell anything. Anything at all. I believed her, but apparently it was not enough. I didn’t believe that her love for me would surpass her desire to have grandchildren, daughter-in-law and keep ‘face’ (respectable reputation in society / how society perceives someone).

I was wrong. And I was stupid to have doubted her.

So, for every question that she asked, I tried to give her a clear, logical answer. The answers are all in my head anyway. It was the clarity part. I had to control myself from breaking down and crying like a baby.

Though there was one question, which I didn’t answer. ‘What about your brother? Is he gay too?’

‘Erm .. I wouldn’t know, would I? I think you better ask him that yourself.’

Of course, I have to make her promise not to tell Dad. He would definitely freak out and probably react very similarly to Justin’s (Queer as Folk) father. Clearly, there was no Brian Kinney to seduce me (though I sometimes wish there was), so most probably I would be the one bearing the brunt of his anger.

As you would have probably known, the relationship between my dad and I is not exactly rosy. It’s almost non-existent.

As such, my mom advice me to be nice to him, to show him respect, because after all he is my father. Furthermore, he’s old and how many years do you think he has in him? He will be devastated, if he were to find out that I am gay, exacerbated by the fact that I don’t treat him with respect.

I didn’t promise anything, I just said I will try.

She seemed to have taken it pretty well. I estimated that her tears could roughly fill a cup. It is still better than crying buckets, right?

Before she left the room, I gave her a hug. ‘Thanks for understanding, Mom. I love you.’

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Book meme

No thanks to weeshiong, I have now been tagged for this book meme. So here goes.

But before that, what the heck is a meme? A favourite phrase of a narcissist?

Meme, (rhymes with "cream" and comes from Greek root with the meaning of memory and its derivative "mimeme"), is the term given to a unit of information that replicates from brains and inanimate stores of information, such as books and computers, to other brains or stores of information. The term meme was coined in 1976 by Richard Dawkins in his bestselling book, The Selfish Gene. Inanimate sources of information have been termed 'retention systems'.

And what a coincidence that I am reading a book by Dawkins.

how many books do i own?
Statistics show that Malaysians read two books a year. I definitely read more than that, but still, it’s too bad that all those nutritional info on cereal boxes and canned food do not count. And how do you quantify online erotic stories into number of books?

So let’s see. *deep thought* I would say a little over hundred. And not unlike jay, any new book that looks interesting will end up on my shelf and the unread ones forgotten. I have around ten sitting prettily, still unwrapped on my book shelf.

the last book i bought
Blind watchmaker: Why the evidence of evolution reveals a universe without design, by Richard Dawkins, the meme word-coiner himself. I think the title says it all.

Yeah, I read deep stuff. *feel smug* So deep that I worry that I might fall off the deep end. You know deep, deep end? Get it? Deep waters?

Anyway, I have stopped reading fiction for the past few months and have delved into the creationism and Darwinism debate. Not that I read a lot of fiction in the first place anyway.

the last book i read
Last book I finished reading was Tuesdays with Morrie, by Mitch Albom. Very good, non-fiction, of a man who knew he had only six months to live. Somewhat perverse though, reading about how his body deteriorated and having no control of his limbs whatsoever; he was as helpless as a baby in his dying month.

Not as insightful as I had expected it to be, but still a good read about life lessons learnt, regrets, love, marriage, etc.

My own category : last book that I did not finish reading
Short History of Nearly Everything, by Bill Bryson. Since it’s non-fiction, I can pick it up any time and continue from where I have stopped.

five books that mean a lot to me

A Density of Souls, by Christopher Rice, son of Anne Rice. It was the first book I read in which the main characters were gay, or the very least had engaged in gay sex. In addition, there were murders, hate crimes, betrayal and incest. Of course, it was another plus point that the characters were good-looking teenage jocks. ;P

To kill a mockingbird, by Harper Lee. Now, who does not like the adventures of Scout and her brother Jem? They were young, wide-eyed and innocent, with a mostly understanding father in Atticus. I have always wished that my father could be more like Atticus.

If you have read the book, you would definitely remember that Scout was not like the typical girl. She had her own identity and did not follow the traditional expectation that society had on her to be lady-like. The southern society in the 30s was racist and absolutely frowned on differences. Now, that is definitely something I can relate to.

Why does this keep happening to me? by Alan Downs, Ph.D. Okay, this is a self-help book. It was an impulsive buy, after I broke up with my boyfriend.

One of the issues he addressed was, Why can’t I believe in myself? I shall quote a few paragraphs here:

So many people, eager to become their best, try to do so by improving their weaknesses. They read books, attend seminars, and they try, try and try. This is a very important insight: You won’t improve through remedial education directed at your weaknesses. You improve by unleashing the power of your strengths.

In other words, focus on what you do well, and practice, practice, practice. You don’t fix your weaknesses – you escape them through your strengths.

This is NOT the same thing as sweeping your weaknesses under the rug of denial. Rather, it is the process of acknowledging and befriending those weaknesses.

Stop trying to fix yourself. But spend your time and energy on your strengths. As you do, your talents will far outweigh the weaknesses that may now seem insurmountable.

It’s true: you can’t have it all. The belief that “I can do anything if I just believe it and try hard enough” has ruined more lives than anything else.

Now, you don’t necessarily have to buy that. But I do agree that there are some things which you can’t do, no matter how hard you try or put in the effort. It’s a reminder of when to stop trying, because the glass ceiling sometimes just won’t break.

The Alchemist
, by Paulo Coelho.
This is an inspiring and uplifting tale of a shepherd, Santiago, who had a dream and willing to travel far and do whatever it takes to fulfill his dream. One of the most memorable quote is, “When you really want something to happen, the whole universe conspires so that your wish comes true"

Of course, this does not necessarily contradict my previous paragraph. I said sometimes we have to accept our weaknesses and stop trying to fix it and instead work on our strengths. If I was (fine, I am) dreadful in singing, I can train and practice and attend singing lessons until the cows come home, but I still won’t sing like Fantasia or Clay because it is just not my strength or talent.

Coelho captures the human spirit very accurately, its flaws, strengths and its beauty. How at some point we lose the ability to control our lives and become the pawns of fate and we shou

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

The crusade against gays

I hope the title isn't overly dramatic. Though it's true, at least in the US.

The issue of marriage has always been a minefield. If you have been following the happenings in the US, gay marriage opponents always claim that it will destroy the family institution. As they say, when you point an accusing finger at others, four are pointing back at you.

Straight marriages have not been doing so well either. The often bandied around statistic in the US is that half of all marriages end in divorce, which I don’t think is that far off anyway. People seldom look at themselves for faults, but look elsewhere. In this case, it's the gay population.

I received these two links a few days ago: Article 1 and Article 2

It is actually a report of the anti-gay industry. They are no longer a movement or group. The report tracks the evolution of the industry since the 70’s. How the fundamentalist right had lost the battle in the ‘rights’ movement – first black people, then women. They have to do something before gay people get the same ‘rights’ too.

What was shocking to me is this, taken from article 2:

But now the Southern Poverty Law Center, a civil rights organization known for monitoring hate groups including the Ku Klux Klan, labels them as extremist groups.

Both of the reports make good reads. I strongly recommend that you read them. They show very clearly how bigoted and conservative the US is becoming, especially in the suburban and rural areas. Taking the Bible word for word, without thinking and analysing, is indeed dangerous. I suppose it’s a fine line that separates religious conservatism and fanaticism.

I shall list a few outrageous, illogical and extremist quotes used by the anti-gay industry to spread their propaganda:

"Homosexuals are not monogamous. They want to destroy the institution of marriage. It will destroy marriage. It will destroy the earth." (Aren't there more pressing issues, like adultery, child abuse, teenage pregnancies, drugs, alcohol addiction, etc to deal with? All these destroy marriage and have been proven, unlike homosexuality.)

When the AIDS crisis broke out in the early 1980s, Cameron claimed gay people had unleashed "an octopus of infection spreading across the world," and had done it on purpose. (Yup, we want to infect everyone, including our gay brothers and sisters.)

"We are to be intolerant of evil," Dobson told his radio audience in 1994. "Romans 12:9 says, 'Learn to be sincere. Hate what is evil'" (Dobson's emphasis). (To learn to tell lies and spread fear and discrimination is not evil?)

In January 1998, Christian Action Network founder Martin Mawyer wrote: The title character in the ABC-TV sitcom Ellen came out of the closet ... AND DUMPED HER FILTHY LESBIAN LIFESTYLE RIGHT IN THE CENTER OF YOUR LIVING ROOM!! IT'S THE FIRST TIME IN THE HISTORY OF NETWORK TV THAT THE LEAD CHARACTER IS A SODOMITE!! ... Do you think TV ever portrays homosexuals as they really are? Having sex with hundreds of perverts in 'one-night stands' ... spreading their filthy sex diseases to millions of people ... molesting innocent children ... flaunting their grotesque lifestyle ... committing murder and sex crimes more than any other group of people. (Can Mr Mawyer name five homosexuals who are molesters, murderers, paedophiles or criminals? Even if you can, it’s not like straight people do not commit these acts.)

"What's at stake here," said Family Research Council president Tony Perkins, "is the very foundation of our society, not only of America but all Western civilization." (Yeah, whole societies will turn homosexual, the sky will rain fire and brimstone and destroy the Western civilization only and spare the rest of the world, because there are no gay people elsewhere.)

"I've never seen a man in my life I wanted to marry," said the Rev. Jimmy Swaggart. "And I'm gonna be blunt and plain: if one ever looks at me like that, I'm gonna kill him and tell God he died." (Reverend, I think you should go read the Bible. Didn’t Jesus mix with anyone and everyone, regardless of who they are? And you claim to be a man of God?)

Again, the maxim ‘People fear what they do not know or understand’ comes to mind. What do we expect from Americans brought up on a diet of heterosexuality and Christianity and so much insularism?

I have written my views on Christianity. I can only imagine what it is like to grow up gay and Christian and repressed. No wonder the ex-gay movement like Exodus and things like reparative therapy have their origins in the U.S.

Clearly, a lot of Americans do not believe in ‘Live and let live’ and ‘One man’s meat is another man’s poison.’ (get it?)

Look at this, from article 1:

Just five months after Lawrence vs. Texas, the Pew Research Center found that opposition to gay marriage had climbed from 53 to 59%. A new majority of Americans, 55%, now characterized gay sex as a sin. Thirty years of anti-gay crusades had begun to pay.

I feel rather thankful to be in Malaysia. At least people here are not openly homophobic and religious zealots do not incite hatred towards homosexuals. Though certainly, more openness, understanding and acceptance would still be nice.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

The story of Wingedman and I

I was pretty tired yesterday because I didn’t get enough sleep the night before. My fault actually, shouldn’t have drunk so much tea – the caffeine gave me hours of trains of unrelated thoughts and ideas. Oh well ...

I actually didn’t plan on doing anything after work, but then wingedman texted me in the afternoon and suggested a meet up. Well, I suppose I could change my plans, as I have not been meeting anyone new recently. So I agreed to meet him at nine.

Now, I know he will be reading this, and that puts me in a spot. Shall I tell the truth of what actually happened or shall I hold back a little, especially my deepest thoughts? Decisions, decisions. And the consequences, of course.

Being of decent and proper upbringing and purveyor of truth, it doesn’t leave me with much a choice. I have been telling everything as it is and I am a stickler for consistency. Sigh, sometimes I hate being nice ...

I took a cab there as the car was not available. I went into Cofffee Bean and waited for less than three minutes before he showed up. So we were both early. Which was such an uncommon and un-Malaysian thing to do ... sheesh.

Him being such a gentleman (and I mean it), he bought the drinks and food while I waited idly. Obviously, that does not imply that I am spoilt and need to be waited on hand and foot. Although, that isn’t such a bad idea ...

To digress a little, I have only started blogging since the beginning of the year and I didn’t expect to gain a following, no matter how small. What’s more, I didn’t expect to meet up fellow bloggers.

I really appreciate you guys that keep coming back to read and know so much more about me. It’s good to know that when I am dead, my legacy will still live on. Yeah, but seriously, thank you.

Back to the story. So we started talking. My initial impression was that he didn’t sound like the person who wrote the blog. In my mind, the blogger was supposed to be more talkative and wittier. That changed after a while, when he began to get comfortable and open up. And I have no doubt that he is the same person.

The whole time, when I was recounting my experiences and life stories, he seemed to know exactly what I was talking about. It was a little unnerving at first; but I have to accept that’s the reality of blogging almost every single detail of my life (note to self: have to blog less so as to appear more mysterious and thus more appealing).

Though on the plus side, it did seem like we have known each other for years (not sure whether you felt that way too, wingedman).

We basically got along quite well. I attribute it to the fact that we grew up in KL and attended national-type all-boys secondary schools. Oh, and the fact that one of his classmates is now my colleague. We discussed interesting and intellectually-stimulating topics such as pheromones, cute guys, graphic novels, American Idol, relationships, cute guys, climbing Mount Kinabalu, blogging and cute guys.

Back-tracking a little. I just mentioned that I know one of his classmates. Obviously, I tried to find out more about wingedman and had to act nonchalantly while at it. I started with, “So do you have a classmate in Form Five, who is currently a pilot?” My colleague answered yes and without suspecting anything, he gave me his name and told me everything about wingedman. OK, actually it was just the name.

I know, I know. Sometimes, I even surprise myself. (Though wingedman did call me a manipulative bastard, when I told him that. No need to apologise, I know deep down, you didn’t mean it. LOL)

When I enquired more about his personality, I got this – Oh, he’s a nice person. Very funny and witty.

Then I asked, is there anything else?

As I said-lar, he’s a very very nice person. Cool guy.

I wanted to ask more, 'Is he six-feet tall and does he look good in tights?', but I think that would be pushing it, so I just left it at that.

I had a great time with him yesterday. Mind you, we were in Coffee Bean the whole time and not anywhere else. But I find him to be interesting, witty, smart – basically a likeable person, someone I foresee I could hang out with.

Towards the end of the meet up, I couldn’t help but notice that wingedman was feeling his neck and checking his temperature quite often. Now, I have always suspected that I have the effect of making guys feel warm and thus, ‘hot’ for me.

Of course, the very bright 100-kilowatts lighting might have helped. I was feeling good about myself till he said, “I have been feeling feverish the whole day. I had better take a Panadol later.” My bubble went pop.

But seriously, wingedman, I hope you are fine.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Of homosexuality and free condoms

Based on my readings, I have always believed that homosexuality is more nature than nurture. My own ratio would be like 80-20. Of course, this ratio could never be scientifically proven.

Just think about it, what elements of homosexuality were you exposed to? In an Asian society, all things related to it are so hush-hush and unspoken. I didn’t found out about the word ‘gay’ till I was fourteen, as I remember typing ‘naked men’ in the search bar, not ‘gay’.

I have not given much thought about this topic for quite some time, till I came across this article. I shall post here a few important paragraphs:

When homosexual men smelled the odor of male sweat—more specifically, a chemical in the male hormone testosterone—their brains responded similarly to those of women.

The findings suggest that brain activity and sexual orientation are linked. It also supports an opinion held by most scientists, that people are born—not bred—gay

In a previous study a few years ago, the Swedish researchers showed that the brain's hypothalamus region, which is involved in sexual behavior, becomes activated when men smell EST (the estrogen derivative) and women smell AND (the testosterone compound), but not vice versa.

For their new study, the scientists added a sexual-orientation element, which revealed a difference in the brain activity of gay and straight men.

The researchers found that the testosterone compound activated the hypothalamus in homosexual men and heterosexual women, but not heterosexual men. Conversely, the estrogen compound activated the hypothalamus only in heterosexual men.

"It directly shows a link between brain activity and sexual orientation," said Hamer, the NIH geneticist.

Hamer cautions that the gay men's different brain activity could be either a cause of their sexual orientation or an effect of it. But, he said, "it certainly seems unlikely that somehow being interested in men would cause the brain to rewire itself in such a dramatic way."

Scientists at the Monell Chemical Senses Center in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, found that gay men preferred odors from other gay men, while odors from gay men were the least preferred by straight men and women.

The last paragraph made my eyes widen. It means that we can detect other gay people – the gaydar. And there is a biological explanation for it – pheromones. So, all gay men have gaydar and we can pooh-pooh those who say that they don’t. They actually do – but they are not aware of it, as ‘smelling’ pheromones works unconsciously.


Another issue that is close to my heart is HIV/AIDS. Last week, there was a headline in the Star which read ‘Needle swap and free condom plan’.

Not surprisingly, the people who are up in arms about this are the religious leaders. Sometimes, these people just can’t think beyond religion and see the big picture. The average number of people infected every year is more than 6000, which means everyday there are more than 16. The numbers were taken from here.

Education has always been one of Malaysia’s HIV/AIDS strategies. Somehow, it has not been truly successful, as can be seen by the rising number of infections. We can only tell young people to abstain, but they will still do it.

More effective and proven strategies are needed to complement and enhance the current program. Needle swap and free condom should definitely be seriously considered – their success rates are much higher.

Free condom distribution does not mean encouraging promiscuity. If people want to have sex, they will, with or without condoms. Easier access to condoms, at hotels, saunas, spas, red light districts, etc simply means that people would be reminded about sexually transmitted diseases. From there, it is up to them, but at least they have been given condoms and thus reminded about STDs. I mean, how many men actually carry condoms with them?

Statistics seldom lie. There have been many success stories – our northern neighbour, Thailand is one. Another is Uganda. The report and statistics can be found here.

Hopefully, common sense will prevail and both these programs will be implemented.

Beauty and the City

I was reading the Sunday Straits Times when I came across this article 'Changing Perceptions of Beauty'. The opening paragraph reads:

WE are bombarded relentlessly by images of what is considered as "ideal" faces of men and women in the mass media. So, is it any wonder that many people are developing unrealistic expectations of finding a life partner with stereotypical Western-style good looks?

Not just the face that is important, body size and shape are important too. This fact was further illustrated on the latest episode of CSI (the original one), which I just watched.

One of the cases was a male body, found in a hotel room. Cause of death was determined to be asphyxia (suffocation) due to a heavy object lying on top of him. Obviously when he was found, the said object was not there anymore.

The CSI team also found a purple strand of silk in the man’s mouth, which came from a woman’s lingerie. So they rounded up all the women who bought that kind of lingerie. From the sheets, they also knew that there were two women who spent the night with the victim; they swabbed the women to get a matching DNA sample.

The interesting thing was that all these women were at a convention for fat people. The man was believed to have a liking for big bodied women. From the investigating team’s interviews, it was known that the victim was a jerk. He slept with the women, but wouldn’t be caught dead (pardon the pun) with one in public places.

Still, two women slept with him. They successfully identified the two women who slept with the victim – let’s call one of them A. When interrogated, she told everything, from the beginning.

A's story was: she has been fat since high school. No one liked her and she never dated in her teenage years. In college, it was the same thing. She has tried everything – diets, going to the gym, obesity programs, etc. Nothing worked.

When the victim showered her with a little attention, she felt loved for the first time in her life. She felt wanted and she enjoyed the attention; both which had not happened to her before. She agreed to go to his room, even though she knew he was a jerk.

After having sex, she felt angry at herself. She realized how could she have done it with a guy like that. She admitted to killing him, by smothering him with a pillow.

Case solved? No. Something was not right. If the victim had died from suffocating from a pillow, how do you explain the purple silk? The CSI team deduced that she had accidentally killed him.

The truth was: A was actually drunk when she came into the room. They had sex, with her on top and the victim lying on his back on the bed. She was so into it, that she didn’t realize that she had killed him. Just imagine, something weighing 300 pounds, lying on top of you - you would have difficulty breathing in less than ten seconds.

Confronted with that, she admitted to the truth. She said that she would rather say she killed him and go to prison for murder, then let the truth be known. Which was: she had literally crushed the victim to death.

The bottom line was, to her, being obese was like the worst thing in the world, the greatest sin ever, the most accursed life to lead, the … you get my picture. Nothing could beat that, not even spending 20 years behind bars.

I mean, how sad and pathetic is that? I know a lot of people want to look good, but isn't it more important to be comfortable and feel good about yourself and your body? Not everyone can have a face like Orlando Bloom and a body like Travis Fimmel (if you do, please leave your number at the message board. Thanks.)

Today's culture places an enormous amount of attention on beauty and youth. Images of beautiful people can be found everywhere - magazines, newspapers, billboards, TV, internet, etc. No one can deny that all these would influence our perceptions and expectations of beauty.

I admit that I am vain too, to a certain extent. The CSI case was just an extreme example of how the environment and society overruled better judgment and intelligence.

I do go the gym at least twice a week. It is not to get an Adonis-like body, but to maintain my current one - it’s hard not to put on weight sitting at the desk for eight hours everyday. People who can eat like an elephant and yet not put on an ounce of weight – don’t they just drive you nuts? But I so do not envy them. *fake grin*

The point I want to make is that, we have to be able to think for ourselves and not accept the standards and expectations that society, deliberately or otherwise, sets for us. Our lives are ours to live. Sometimes we have to put our feet down and say enough is enough.

Remember, we are not lemmings. We are all individuals and we come in different sizes, shapes and colours; whatever that you possess is something to be proud off. We don’t need to fit in all the time.

I shall end with a quote from a doctor, taken from the article, 'We need to have a paradigm shift. We always focus on what is wrong with people, not what is right with them.'

Here's another quotable quote 'When a society fails to imbue people's life with a sense of worth and meaning, then they must find these qualities as individuals. Robbed of a broader meaning to our lives, we appeared to have entered an era of mass obsession, usually with ourseleves: our appearance, our health and fitness, our sex lives.' Dr Richard Eckersly

Now excuse me while I go for my monthly facial session. What? It’s not like I do it every week.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Hike No 2: Klang Gates Reservoir

Since today is the His Royal Highness birthday (and I don’t mean myself), what better way to spend the day then conquer another hill? To be precise, a limestone hill near the Klang Gates Reservoir. And not as I previously thought, Bukit Melawati.

We were supposed to meet at the Gombak LRT station at nine. Most of them were already there, with the exception of Simon and Kelvin. There were ten of us this time.

The sky wasn’t looking too good. It was cloudy and it looked as it was going to rain any time. Sigh, why does it always have to rain every time we go hiking? I was hoping we could go up and come down before it started to rain. Wishful thinking, obviously.

Fortunately, the place wasn’t that far from the station, unlike the previous hike, which was a good 45 minutes drive. We were at the entrance of the reservoir in ten minutes.

We saw people coming from the hill; they looked like they just had a good climb. There were also a group of youngsters having a chat at the picnic table.

Before the climb, I was actually having second thoughts about going. Someone who has climbed this very same hill more than twenty times sent this email:

You gotta ask the folks who are coming along, these questions :

1. Can your arms support your body weight ? Coz you`ll need to do some basic rope climbing downwards.

2. Are you afraid of heights ? Coz there`ll be open areas when you`ll just be on a narrow ledge without any support on the left or right . If u r dizzy then, you might slip & fall to your death. I`m not kidding.

3. Do insects / bees scare you ?

4. Are you sun sensitive ? It`s quite a warm climb.

And someone else replied:

I agree with what you have listed down especially item No 2. I was so fear about it and took me very long time to cross that section. I still worry how am I going to make it this time (this will be my 3rd time)

If that didn’t freak you out, I don’t know what would. When I was reading that, my first thought was the opening scene in Mission Impossible 2, where Tom Cruise was hanging on a cliff with his bare hands. That image sent shivers down my spine.

Anyway, I was hoping for courage in big numbers. After all, there were ten of us and we could look out for each other. Also, I persuaded (Ok, more like dragged) Vincent, my best friend, to come along.

Now back to the hike. It felt tougher, because immediately, the trail ascended instead of descended like in the previous hike. The sight of sharp jagged rocks didn’t help either, as they gave the subliminal message of danger and if you fall, you will die.

The sky has not cleared. But it hasn’t gotten any more threatening either.

We climbed using only our legs in the first twenty minutes, and then we had to use our other appendages. The rocks were quite sharp, but they did provide good grip.

So the ten merry men climbed up the hill. It was a smooth climb, with no deaths or broken limbs or cliffhanger moments. There was the usual friendly banter and the overused, “I like the view from behind.” I am pretty sure you can imagine that – sweaty guys climbing up and you have to wait a while before it is your turn.

Oh wait, there was a highlight. Of all people, I didn’t expect Kelvin to be an exhibitionist. He would pass his camera to another, take off his shirt and pose for a shoot. Obviously, we demanded that he remove more than just one item of clothing.

When we near the summit, it started to drizzle. It got heavier as we reached the summit. But it seemed that the nature favoured us and had mercy. The rain stopped, the sun came out a little, the mist cleared and we got a clear view of the surrounding area. We could see KLCC and KL Tower on one side. On the other, we could see the reservoir. It was a beautiful sight indeed.

On the hike up, I have been thinking of how to get down. With some parts of the trail quite steep and requiring the use of hands too, it would be more difficult going down. That, or the fastest way to the bottom – and to hell.

Still, we managed to reach the foot of the hill without any untoward accident. It was half past twelve. We spend some time at the lake as some of them wanted to clean up and soak in the water.

Overall, this hike was relatively easier compared to Bunga Buah. It wasn’t as high and less strenuous. Though undeniably, it was more dangerous and challenging at some parts.

After that, we went for Ampang Yong Tau Foo. Traffic was terrible as usual. It took us more than half an hour to reach.

By the time I reached home, it was after four. I didn’t feel as tired and my legs weren’t wobbling. But still, I was pooped and I slept for two hours. Whereas I was wide awake and only slept at my usual time after the Bukit Buah hike.

Totally inexplicable.

Friday, June 03, 2005

Sexuality lapse

Something interesting happened yesterday.

I was at a training program, called Improved Reading Skills, for the past two days. There was another program held at the training center – an orientation program for the company’s new staff.

Lunch was held at the dining room, so I got to meet the new employees. I knew some of them already, as they have joined for more than a month. There were of course some new faces, whom I was duly introduced to.

One of the girls lamented the fact that there were 20 of them and only 7 guys. As luck would have it, the people I knew, including the newly introduced ones, were all females. The table I sat at, all of them have the XX chromosomes. Now guys, don't be jealous. Muahaha ..

Obviously for me, it was somewhat of a disappointment. But, the guys weren’t that cute anyway. LOL.

The weird thing was, I felt kind of excited. I felt strong and absolutely masculine.

Unexpectedly, the girl who complained of the lack of male employees, asked me this, ‘How come you know all the new female staff?’ Let’s call her S.

Err .. that was a very good question. I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, as it’s not like she asked how I knew all the male staff, but I did. I was flustered.

The truth is, there is a colleague who knows all the new brooms. He is an extremely friendly person and basically knows every person who joins the bank. Especially if they are female. And this colleague, is the same one I mentioned that I was close with. So naturally, I would know too.

Furthermore, when she asked me that, I was talking to another girl, Y, sitting next to me. Her friend from primary school attended the same university as I did, so we got into a friendly chat and I asked Y, how was our mutual friend doing. Somewhat intentionally, I ignored S’s question.

I am sure you could have guessed what happened next. S, who is quite outspoken, called me a crocodile a.k.a. buaya.

I felt a sense of pride. But guys, don’t start throwing rotten eggs at me yet. It’s not something I am proud of. *shameful look*

Perhaps, it was because I was being positively straight acting (not that I usually don’t). It further perpetuated the heterosexual feeling. Somehow, in front of a group of girls, I get energised and appear even more straight acting than usual. I felt so good, so hetero that I actually doubted my own gay sexuality.

Truthfully, I don’t get it either.

Another explanation that I could think of is the lack of female contact for a very long time. My department has more guys than gals. Furthermore, the colleagues I have lunch with and the friends I hang out with are usually all guys. And positively straight too.

I suppose it was a refreshing change. I think I almost forgot how interesting the female human species is. Totally different from testosterone-driven straight males that I work with daily.

Despite my pro-gay and proud to be gay attitude (plus superiority complex ;P), the occasional feeling of belonging and fitting in with 96 percent of the male population does surface. Especially when I least expect it.

Thankfully, that lasted all of five minutes.

I soon return to my usual self. And I reminded myself how absolutely silly and clueless most straight guys are (I have blogged on this before). Why would I want to be like them? Hehe ….

Still, I found the whole thing a really fascinating observation of myself. I am not sure whether I am the only one, so if you have similar experiences, please do share.

Breasts and pussy can never, ever do it for me.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

The Hazards of Not Coming Out Part II

Thanks Robert, for letting me post this. By the way, Robert was the facilitator for the discussion.


'I may not be out, but I live a perfectly happy life.' But do you? If human beings are good at adapting to suit a circumstance and getting used to it in the process, they are even better at self-denial, or some call it self-deception, especially in the context of coming out. This is achieved through this thing called compartmentalisation - thus there are compartments for your gay friends and gay activities, your straight family and friends and straight events, gay friends you can be seen with in public (because they act straight) and those who cannot, colleagues you have come out to and those you should hide your sexuality from at all costs. Layers upon layers of self censorship, and then you bury your head in the sand and declare it a 'happy' life.

Take, for example, the attending of a function. If you are gay, you typically go alone (whether you are attached or not) and spend the time fending off questions about your delayed nuptials. Unfortunately all those 'I am still young' or 'I haven't met the right girl' have a finite shelf life. These lines can, at best, be a delaying tactic, but they are far from being fool-proof. Whilst people might buy it when you are in your 20's, they are less likely to do so when you are in your 30's or 40's. So, there is you thinking that everyone is fooled by your excuses, and there is everyone sniggerring behind you because they know better, or certainly suspect so. The worst part is, you live in constant anxiety that someone is going to find out, and find out they will.

This serves to undermine the frequent saying that what is not known doesn't hurt, typically in a family context. Because if you are going to be found out sooner or later, it will hurt just as much whichever way it comes from, and certainly more humiliating for your family if it has to come from an external source. This emerged as a sound piece of advice from Simon that if you take the initiative to come out yourself, at least you would have total control over the situation and can deal with any ensuing damage accordingly.

In many cases where a gay man is chastised by his family upon their discovery, by default, of his sexuality, it can be as much due to the family's anger at having been deceived as the sexuality itself.

Whilst some people may equate coming out with the search for a more convenient and freer gay lifestyle that they could manage without, albeit begrudgingly; the long term effect of a secret double life behind the family is often overlooked. The more you live a separate life from your family, the less they know about your life, and the more isolated you become. This is particularly manifested among gay men of a certain age who has no partner, no family support and no gay community to fall back on. Even among gay relationships, the lack of family support can frequently be a strain which in many cases can lead to unwarranted breakups.

The same can be said about work situation. In order to avoid being found out, we keep ourselves to ourselves, and run for cover whenever an anti-gay remark is uttered instead of correcting or confronting it. Yet, we spend half of our life and time at work, would it not be less stressful and more enjoyable if we could have a clear conscience and live an honest life? Yes, honesty, that is what ultimately all this is about. After all, if we ever want equality with the next straight guy (that is what we all want, isn't it?), we can't do it without honesty - honesty to yourself , honesty to your family and honesty to the society at large.

Needless to say, all of the above acknowledges the difficulties of coming out, especially in this region, and the fact that each individual is the best judge of his particular circumstance.


Paragraph four made me think about the possibility of coming out and the consequences. Undoubtedly, my parents would freak out. Disappointed, angry and hurt. A tumult of emotions.

Someone once told me that, parents ALWAYS want what is best for the child and give them that. Of course, this is based on what they think is best. What they think is best, may not necessarily be the best from the child’s point of view.

A very good example would be the common practice of sending children to tuition / piano lessons / mental arithmetic / taekwondo / all of them. Now tell me, is that really in the child’s best interest?

Clearly, in their upbringing and the environment that they know (friends, relatives, colleagues), they are not exposed to gay people. It is natural for people to fear what they do not understand.

They think it is abnormal and disgusting. It’s just that they haven’t seen how normal we are. We have emotions, problems and needs too, just like everybody else.

As such, parents need education to understand what homosexuality is all about. It can’t happen overnight. Coming out, unexpectedly, would be a big bombshell. They would have no time to digest, as it is no different from shoving the truth down their throats.

As be seen from Eric’s coming out on Astro AEC, he said it took him several years to prepare his parents mentally. In addition, a psychologist, who is also a columnist on Fridae, Clarence Singam shares the same view. Obviously, this is the better way, as they would have years to get accustomed to the truth and hopefully, hurt less (of course, the truth still hurts anyway).

Seriously, I don’t even know where to start. Communication with my dad is almost non-existent. Mom is a bit more understanding, but not by much.

The issue is not pressing now, but I’ll have to think of something sooner or later.