Fresh meat market in the heat of the night, commodities being traded like hot stocks off the wall on a busy KLSE trading day. 'Brokers', on standby to receive orders from discreet men who have come from as far as Klang, keep themselves busy with the constant shuffling of photo cards, from either "Occupied" to "Available" to "Off Day". Pick a number quick, and go into the assigned room with your order.
It was spring when I bought this, couldn't remember it was brown in colour though.
On Any Pathetic Saturday Night, a group of bubbly sisters make an appearance at Dome, Lot 10. Joining them is the rest of the 80% gay customer crowd, each with their usual pink circle. Flaunting the latest fashion, the best make-up, and the most perfect hair-do, the War of Glances heats up as the gay occupancy rate climbs further to 90% and beyond.A gentle breeze from hushabye mountain
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting
Waiting to sail your worries away
Track 01:
The first meeting at Wangsa Maju LRT station turned out to be the start of a 4-year long relationship. What would I do without you?
Track 02:
Mr MD holding me close in his arms under the umbrella as we brave the rain at busy Bukit Bintang. The memories will linger on, coz I have got your perfume.
Track 03:
I said ‘Hi’ to a dark figure that had been following me for the whole night in Lost World. I remember asking if you liked me, the silence that followed was deafening.
It isn't far to hushabye mountain
And your boat waits down by the key
The winds of night so softly are sighing
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea
Track 04:
You stopped at the stairway before leaving Babylon, and waved frantically for my attention. I miss you, Nop. Can I hear you sing ‘Happy Birthday’ in Thai again?
Track 05:
Steamy sessions in the car on the rainy wee hours of Saturday mornings. Did we say we will progress to somewhere more comfortable?
Track 06:
Passionate kissing in the open showers for all to see. I think we can get rich if we charge.
So close your eyes on hushabye mountain
Wave goodbye to cares of the day
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain
Sail far away from lullaby bay
Track 07:
Standing on the bustling agogo street with a stalk of rose and a pink balloon poodle in my hand. I will come back for you soon, I promise.
Track 08:
Squeezing amongst heaps of copulating bodies on a Full Moon Party in Towel Club. Every move I made resulted in contact with either a well-built chest, firm butts or a eager hard-on. But why was I not excited?
Track 09:
Lying on the beach at Datai on a breezy late evening, you wrapped yourself around me and fell asleep. Too much wine for dinner, I know.
Track 10:
Stood in front of a fully occupied lift at the office lobby as it closed on a busy Monday morning. I looked at you looking at me. Waited half a year before we did more than looking, but this only made the whole experience more fulfilling.
BRAVEHEART [85]
BRAVEHEART [85]
伤心sauna，一个不见天日的地方，在最黑暗的走廊间，角落里，无休止地重复上演着人性的放纵。
伤心sauna，一个不应有感情纠纷的地方，但情绪的波动容易让人无法自拔，只好越陷越深。
伤心sauna，一个只有性没有爱的地方，在高潮迭起的快乐时光完毕后，拾起毛巾曲终人散。
伤心sauna，就算憧憬过，期待过，快乐过，幸福过，在踏出门口后也只成了过眼云烟。
伤心sauna，星期日的下午，再来失望一次。
----------------------------
反风向，你虽撑着伞
雨滴却，淋湿衬衫
为了想，将结局扭转
为了他，吃力的追赶
一路上，不放声哭喊
摇又晃，强忍不安
习惯了，你不以为然
以为爱，原本就很难
想像爱情有如一艘船
随着风你再多勇敢
也靠不了岸
把心交给海洋去保管
让它带你找寻海港的
温暖
阿桑 - 保管
We were sitting on the bench at the outdoor garden catching our breath and getting ready to leave when my wandering eyes caught hold of a familiar face. The dwindling blood supply to my brain failed to help me execute a quick recall to this face with a name, allowing the owner to dive straight for the gym hoping that somehow my tired eyes would have failed to register the short encounter.
Out of sight, was indeed not out of mind. I searched hard towards the most remote wildnerness of memory-scape, and came up with a name 5 seconds later. Then, the next 3 minutes was spent overcoming the excitement of bumping into my gay sister’s lover in a gay sauna. As I sat there contemplating my next move, Roy who had better luck locating him came back to confirm the breaking news of the year.
Over a period of 20 minutes, we kept a close watch on him from a distance, carefully balancing between not being far enough to loose sight of him, and not being too near, so as not to be too overwhelming that it would be awkward for him to cruise or be cruised upon.
But I saw tension and anxiety building up on his face, as he struggled to face the unimaginable consequences of having his secret Sunday evening agenda exposed to you. Yes, you, the big sister among our little queer circle, the one whom we need to thank for the nevertheless vivid, fun memories of our initial closet days. Higher on your lover's priority list now was most probably how to manage his exposure to us, rather than to catch the gorgeous boy who was just stripping into his birthday suit at the locker next to him.
Roy and I finally took a break from the spying job, and to our surprise, he somehow summoned enough courage to approach us and said hi. He certainly had strategised, for from the third sentence onwards, he started to subtly implant the virtues of friendships into our conversation. Good friends, according to him, are those that would hold back facts from their beloved buddies that would prove too hurtful to bear. If there were anything too hurtful to bear, it would be his facial expression, distorted with fear and red with intense anxiety. And so, not wanting to incur further pain to this poor soul who was ready to kneel and beg in front of me, I told him I had deleted your contact number, thus there is no way of you ever finding out about this encounter from us.
And I thought I heard a big sigh of relief.
Loy and I left shortly after, leaving him to roam the darkened and almost deserted rooms and walkways on a late Sunday night.
So the most perfect gay marriage of the century is not a bed of roses after all. The fairy tale story that you had so tirelessly and painstakingly weaved for our envy is all but a fairy tale? The one man you have sacrificed your money, time, energy and friends for was just begging us not to reveal the truth to you, and most probably was now fucking other boys in Mirage while you continue to live your life in perfect and blissful oblivion.
I wanted to taste the sweetness of victory relating this story to you, and watch you shrivel away as your perfect world come crashing down, but darn, I thought presenting this with an impressive line-up of evidences, including grainy photos from camera phones with him in action would be more convincing.
No?
BRAVEHEART [84]
BRAVEHEART [83]
BRAVEHEART [82]
The five of us arrived at the Newman agogo boy bar to a full house seating. The sofa seats lining the walls were already fully occupied. There were curious straight couples here for the promise of the most outrageous unnatural sex acts in the world, groups of queer folks here to witness sexual poses wilder than their 50 people gang bang sessions in Towel Club, and a few uncles here to catch one of the boys to brush their egos and prove yet again that this Earth is worth their existence for at least another night.
As the mamasan scurried around to find us seats, I felt you touched my hands softly. Didn’t matter you were clad in just your white undies with a semi erection underneath, you had the most sincere and decent smile in the length and breath of Suriwong street. The patrons behind were pushing us in, you reluctantly let go of my hands, but our eye contact locked on to each other stubbornly.
We were forced to take the bar seating right on the edge of the raised stage, where the performance will take place. I looked up and found a huge bulge staring at me. It was 15 minutes before the show begins, but there were already boys on the stage, each clad similarly in white undies and a round number plate for easy identification. As they made their turns on the stage, some began to dance to the deafening music, while others stood still and look around to check for approval eyes from amongst the patrons.
“I like you.” The voice came through loud and clear, echoed through my auditory canal into my inner ear before registering in my brain. Perhaps you had placed your mouth too close. Lily and Piu Piu were obviously amused by the attention that I was getting from you, and had dutifully shifted their focus from the Agogo Boy No 33 dancing on the stage (the one with a big bulge) to Agogo Boy No 28, who had now positioned himself right behind me.
“You are beautiful and pretty.” You repeated after another Agogo Boy who was standing next to you. So he is your English teacher.
“Thank you.” I said bashfully, careful to balance between being too overly overjoyed (of the undivided attention that I was getting from you) and being overly cautious (of money boys who go all way out to land their kill of the night.)
You seemed delighted with my positive response and immediately opened your arms, and locked them onto my body in a tight one-way embrace. Lily and Piu Piu watched with heightened enthusiasm as they waited in anticipation of your next move.
I stayed very still, reluctant to provide further feedback to you on my feelings. I was worried that any further actions from me would mean that I was accepting your company, which most probably would result in additional charges on top of the 200 baht that we paid for the drinks. I would pay if I can afford to, but the millions of items for sale at Chatuchak had caused a temporary loss of self-restraint earlier in the morning, leaving me with just enough cash to settle the 500 baht airport tax for the return flight tomorrow.
And so to the disappointment of Lily and Piu Piu, I continued to stay very still. My eyes longed to see you straight in the face, but I continued to stay fixated on the performance in front of me. My ears longed to hear your elementary English, but they choose to be drown in the deafening music. My mouth longed to taste your lips, but the artificial sweetness of Coke did the trick.
I thought you would leave me, but you held on nevertheless, oblivious to the countless stares of admiration from the other patrons. Throughout a good 90 minutes, your eyes continued to wander on my face, your ears listening out for every opportunity to hear my voice, your lips hovered on the back of my neck patiently awaiting mine, and your arms continued the tightening embrace on my body.
The mamasan finally came over and gently reminded me if I would like to offer him a drink.
“I did not invite him here.” I said softly to the mamasan, who promptly gave you a stare and walked away. That was perhaps the most heartless thing I have ever said to anyone in this world. Please believe me that it hurt myself as much as it would hurt you (if you understood English).
And I imagined how different things would be if I were to meet you in another setting, in another time.
You finally let go of your grasp on me to go to the washroom, but you never return. Perhaps the mamasan had given you a stern warning about wasting too much time on someone who seemed ignorant to the attention that you were showering him with.
My back began to feel the shivers. Your body most probably had shielded me previously from the direct blow of cool air from the air-conditioner behind me. Right now the void felt extra painful amidst the drowning music and cheering crowd. The copulating couple on the stage had changed into yet another difficult position of acrobatic proportions, but I don’t remember anything more.
As we were collecting money amongst ourselves to settle the bill, I saw you again, across the other side of the stage. Your other agogo friends were scrambling all over to catch hold of the last few single uncles who had stayed on after the show for some last minute ‘shopping’ spree. But you just sat there on the edge of the stage, your longing eyes fixated on me. The smile on your face had faded away, your arms were hugging your naked upper body.
“I don’t have money for you, boy. Are you for real?” I opened my mouth but acknowledged the language barrier between us. Tried looking for your English teacher but the rest had already finished up their drinks and were walking towards to the door. I left my seat reluctantly and joined them. My legs felt heavy, had to hold on to Lily for support.
And then you walked over to me, and quietly slipped a stalk of rose into my hand.
And I stopped breathing.
I would have enough air in my lungs to say “Thank you”, but I know any response from me would invite unwanted attention from the mamasan, who would most probably give you an even sterner lecture this time.
And so, with one deep breath, I pushed the door and left. I turned back to catch one last glimpse of you, but you had already disappeared behind the shutting door, you into your own world, and me into mine.
As tight as your grasp on me just one hour ago, I now held on tight to the stalk of rose from you. The petals were already shrivelling, but in my teary eyes, it was the most beautiful rose I have ever seen.
Hearts are often broken
When there are words unspoken
In your soul there's
Answers to your prayers
If you're searching for
A place you know
A familiar face
Somewhere to go
You should look inside yourself
You're halfway there
Exhale – Whitney Houston
BRAVEHEART [81]
