The BravingKL Fridae Guide: On Replying Hearts

Are you the type who log on to Fridae everyday and head over to your hearts page the first thing, only to find yourself confronting a list of hearts from the same old members, day after day, without fail?

Well, the sisterhood believes that, if you have exchanged 3 to 4 rounds of heart with the exact same member, and it doesn’t seem like there will be any other follow-up actions from it (such as exchange of messages or chatting in msn), then don’t bother replying their hearts anymore, coz they’re most probably doing a non-selective heart-replying action on a daily basis, or better known as the DBKL Reply (i.e. sending hearts to every tom, dick and harry on their friends or bookmark list). This means, they actually won’t realize that you have stopped replying to their hearts, and thus will continue to send you hearts day after day till time immemorial.

Of course, if a particular member is your Type A (remember the Desirability Scale?), you would naturally have already taken the initiative to write to him. But in general, for higher success rates, invest more time on hearts received from someone NEW, especially if it’s accompanied with a message or a ‘Add Friend’ request (this means YOU are his type A, baby!).

And if you are the ones guilty of doing the non-selective heart-replying. Shame on you! Exactly what kind of fat hopes are cooking in your head!? We believe you may consider spending more time doing another set of chest pumps in the gym, or enjoying another application of facial mask on the sofa.

The BravingKL Guide to FRIDAE

Another topic of conversation that inevitably dominates our sisterhood dinners these days is Fridae. Yes, it’s supposedly THE premier gay personals site for Singapore and Malaysia (and some say Thailand, Taipei and Japan too). We find it fulfilling to share our experiences of how we spend our precious online moments staring into the screen browsing profiles and replying hearts and messages, and how we deal with the multitudes of colourful characters that would grace our myFridae page everyday.

Naturally this evolves into our respective observations and analysis of the entire Fridae culture, followed by a semi-heated debate to advocate, challenge or clarify on each others’ viewpoints, and finally a collection of conclusions and best practices that we would unanimously agree and apply, which shall now be known as the

• The BravingKL Guide to FRIDAE

Stay tuned!

The BravingKL Desirability Scale

The sisterhood dinners have been getting rather productive lately. While savouring our meals, we find it necessary to engage ourselves in challenging discussions that help to analyse and address some of the common topics and issues that are close at heart to the gay community in KL.

Inevitably peppering the discussions are Men, Men and more Men. (OK, we can be shallow and deep at the same time). So we find it absolutely necessary to create an analysis that would easily facilitate any references to Men.

Sindy was the first one to propose this, and then we collectively worked on improving the definitions and analysis, which I will now present to you as:

• The BravingKL Desirability Scale

The scale helps to break down and group all men into 3 main categories:

• Type A: These are men who have what it takes to make you want to pursue them. This is not specific to just physical appearances, but may include the entire package with factors such as intellectuality and financial stability.
• Type B: These are men who may not trigger the rush in you to want to pursue them, but if he come after you, you wouldn’t mind dating him. In other words, he’s a convenient option.
• Type C: These are men whom you would never consider dating, even if he’s making all the moves to pursue you.

All three categories can then be further broken down into 2 sub-categories each:

• Type A1: These are the rare Prince Charmings in your life! You not only think of pursuing them, but you take active action to do so.
• Type A2: These are your princes who fall short of certain qualities so that you would just only think of pursuing them, but may not actually do so if they do not send a positive signal your way.
• Type B1 and B2: The distinction between B1 and B2 are not as clear, but generally you will succumb to the pursuits of B1 better than B2.
• Type C1: These are the general guys who do not interest you at all.
• Type C2: You would rather commit suicide than to date him.

Having the scale now properly defined, we then set out to plot a variation of graphs showing the number of guys that fall in the three main categories. Everyone naturally have very different plots of his own desirability chart. We find it interesting to analyse some of them here:

The standard plot reflects the normal distribution of men that we would encounter in our daily lives, judged against the generally-accepted standards in society. Naturally we would expect to find Type A the fewest, followed by Type B, and then those that we would normally filter as Type C.

DBKL are people who set a relatively low standard of quality-control for their men, translating into the fact that they would seem to find almost every single man they encounter to be attractive. The active DBKL's, who are naturally inclined to make the first move, will thus find most men plotted around the Type A vicinity. Studies conducted by the BravingKL Institute of Studies of Gay Men reveals that more than 95% of Active DBKLs are Type C, while the remaining are Type A or B who suffer from a permanent disorder that affects their visual judgements and signifcantly lowered their quality control, symptoms commonly exhibited by a drunken man.

The passive DBKL, while also finding most men that they encounter to be attractive, will not make the first move to pursue them. But if any one of these men do, then the success rate is rather high, if not always a 100%. Thus passive DBKL's find most men plotted in the Type B category. The study confirms that Passive DBKL shares the same social model as Active DBKL.

The princess believes she is too good for anyone, and thus sets impossibly high standards for the man in her life. She ends up with very few men who fulfills her type A and B criteria. Almost everyone is a Type C in her eyes. The same study reveals that only a fraction of Self-Infatuated Princesses are Type A, while in general, all of them suffer from a permanent dillusion of their own attributes due to various factors such as forgetting to install mirrors in their bathrooms.


The scale has since been healthily adopted so far in our daily lives. Among some of the examples of how this is peppered in daily conservations:

• "Type A coming, at your four-o-clock."
• "I can’t believe I’m just his type B!"
• "I don’t mind a type B tonight."
• "A table full of C’s."

A Delicious Affair

So is Delicious @ Bangsar Village 2 the new PLU hangout in town? I was there with Nicole, Sinderella and Jessica for dinner on Saturday and there was at least one sisterhood sighting every other minute!
First the gang caught Ah Lian, the FF instructor, sashayed past our table in her tight fitting sleeveless tee while on her way to the entrance to meet her gym sisters.

Barely two minutes had past, when we detected a rapidly escalating concentration of hiao power near the entrance - Veronica, yet another FF celebrity instructor and her faghag gang had just made an appearance, standing there for time immemorial while scouting for vacant dinner tables. And with them was Jamie from Sindy's extended sisterhood.

Before the confetti settled, Janice the TF GX instructor who happens to be my colleague as well emerged before us, not holding hands with his new potential (whom we're all dying to know the identity of), but pushing a baby pram instead!

"Ya Allah! I didn't know you're a mother liao!" The group exclaimed unanimously while staring at the baby who must be like at least 15 months old.

"My niece la!" Janice rolled her eyes but could not afford anything more sisterly than that as her parents and siblings already caught up with her on their way out of the restaurant.

By now the gang was already on the lookout for other sightings, and in came LK, my ex colleague, with two of her sisters. Thought he didn't see me, but we were soon engaged in a brief SMS conversation.

"Hello darling. Next week party in bkk he he."

"Yeah gorgeous, can't wait!"

Before the end of dinner, Sindy announced that we will need to make an effort to dress up when we drop by again.

"Yerr.. Let my potential see me in this, so not glam."

The Love Of Dance

What would you do for the love of dance, especially when you know it's gonna be the last proper dance class in Fitness First? Well, you naturally go all way out and hit the dancefloor/studio, literally, with your knees while doing the floor routines.

Showed Jimmy my bruises, and he said "Take that as my souvenir for you for attending my last Cardio Dance class."

At least I don't really need any knee pads anymore, do I?

The Ultimate Introduction

XXX to BravingKL in Fridae:

hi, i m XXX here. mind 2 b fren? whats ur name? hometown from? nw stay where which part stay with who? stat? msn? u r t/b? looking 4? msn? how u spend ur free time? nw work or study? if work, work as? if study, taking what course? any contact no.? sorry 4 cz i seldom online, hope u dun mind. anyway, hope 2 hear from u soon...regards, XXX

BravingKL to XXX:

oh gosh xxx! thanks for the wonderful introduction template! are you like sending this to each and every Fridae member individually? but that's like so troublesome!!! why don't I just help you post this to my blog instead? I'm sure my readers will find it very useful. Don't worry, I will give credits to you of course for coming up with such an extensive list of questions in so little words. I dunno what else anyone would want to ask actually. And no, it's ok, you don't need to thank me really. Great job! ;)

The Doctor

The doctor was silent, he seemed lost in his own world. I used to worry the first few times he did that, but it seems like it's just his way of nursing a persistent migraine. I asked him about his on-call schedules for next week, had to repeat myself as he was soon busy tapping on my left collar bone with his fingers.

“Good bone mass!” He declared with an air of animated satisfaction, I had to roll my eyes.

He then reached over and tried to tap my right collar bone, and we got into a pretty nasty anti-tickling rampage/ wrestling exercise right on the bed, throwing the comforters off their perfect arrangement. Mum's gonna frown for sure (not for to the sight of four pairs of entangled limbs - that would bring up her infamous selective memory loss syndrome instead, but at the sorry state of the crumbled comforters). Did a quick check of the door, she had not been alarmed by the commotion. Good.

But my poor naked collar bones, I had to hold on to them even after we had settled down to keep them safe from the inquisitive fingers of a well-trained doctor, whose face was now inching towards my chest instead. There was no handy statoscopes around, he'll need to go much closer to check the heartbeat.

“So I’m now your mistress?” The doctor asked suddenly.

Silence. It’s my turn to be lost in my world. I said nothing, I don’t think he’s expecting me to.

Grimace

The barbells felt heavier today. I grabbed it just as firmly with both my hands. Against the gloves my palms savoured the roughness of the handle just the same and I thought I felt a tinge of sadistic satisfaction rising to my head. Looked myself straight on in the mirror, and as I grimaced to complete just one more set, I asked what sense were all these making.

And then I moved on to work on my abs.

The Sisterhood Photoshoot Of The Year

The black backdrop was up, general and directional lightings arranged and lit, make-up applied, dresses and accessories ready, Madonna songs playing in the background, camera in position and Mum obediently locked up in the bedroom.

Finally, the stage was set for my most challenging photoshoot assignment of the year.

Lights, Camera, Drama!

(The release of the full set of these shots is under the discretion of the two models.)

Mrs. Chan

Mrs. Chan poured herself another cup of green tea, and settled down slowly back onto the coach. Her feeble fingers reached for the remote on the side table and a Zhou Xuan number began filling the living room with an air of nostalgic quaintness not unlike her surrounding now, a meticulous blend of joyous reds and pinks to usher in the lunar new year.

Then she jumped up from her couch, her mobile, her mobile was in the shower, on the dressing counter next to the potpourri where she had left it. She struggled free of the coach and hurried over to fetch it, and with trembling fingers, she clumsily unlocked the phone to check for missed calls or new messages, but only to sink low with disappointment.

Mei Ling always calls on the eve. The highlight of her day, her month rather, would be to hear the comforting, though distant, voice of her beloved daughter, an annual merriment of sort that would set her on a prolonged bliss long after the five-minute conversation had ended, and would somehow justify the long gaps of desolateness she would endure for the past twelve months.

But Mrs. Chan would find no missed calls, and no messages, apart from the senseless promotional ones that had provided her with too many false hopes too often that she had now learnt to ignore all of them. Setting the phone on the side table, next to the remote, she held on to the side of the coach and sank lower into her coach.

The reflections of the red lanterns with chasing lights in the row of photo frames on the wall soon caught hold of Mrs. Chan’s attention, and she began staring at them for the longest of time. She had spent the whole morning earlier today painstakingly fixing the entire string of them onto the wooden frame of her patio. One of them was coming loose now, but she didn’t notice it, she was already in another world, fighting a certain war of reality and delusion.

••

The last cup of green tea had turned icy cold. Against Mrs. Chan resting body, the joyous oldies continued to form the perfect contrast against the stale, still air of the apartment, long after the last firecrackers had thundered the festive skies.

From the slit of the patio door, a shred of red paper, the remains of some distant firecrackers, somehow broke free and fluttered into the room. Over Mrs. Chan very still body it travelled, traced the string of red lanterns, crossed the row of photo frames on the wall, and finally arrived at a forgotten corner of the apartment, where an altar stood.

Its flight then came to an abrupt end, as it knocked against a photo on the altar, a photo of Mei Ling, staring peacefully outwards with her gentle smile. With one final quiver, the shred of paper fell and rested next to the photo where it would remain for a very, very long time.

A Kite

Against the bleeding sunset the adamant kite fluttered in mid air, tore through gusts of evening breeze with its fragile body, trembling now in the cold air. This striking piece of multicoloured pride, the loss of which was missed for the duration of a frown, and then forgotten.

The setting sun seemed to twirl in and out of focus, at this hundred feet above ground. The kite swore it’s getting nearer, much nearer than it had been before. And it let out a silent gasp of rejoice.

Yet the warmth of the sun, as certain as it was just moments before, now swiftly dwindled as its rays fell short of the hills not far away. The sudden swelling of its magnificent body were comparable only to its rapid descent. The kite watched in despair. Its body, just now bathed in a glistening coat of golden bliss, was reduced to a collection of muted tones.

On its own descent, the kite began to dream of sunny afternoons, birds chirping on treetops and the distance squeals of children in the playground. This formerly striking piece of multicoloured waste, of which presence will now join an assortment of rotting twigs, rusting cans and other forgotten items, down on the ground, where it rightfully belong.

A Silent Shade of Gray

Three years worth of emotions and memories, come walk down this path with me again.

Download the ebook in pdf format here.

Cameronian Craze

The sisterhood braved the school holiday year-end fenzy and made a short trip to Ipoh and Cameron Highlands over the weekend. With the tap on juicy sauna encounters now dried up, I have to make do instead with silly accounts of the ridiculous things we did throughout the trip:

Danielle making love to the wall while descending one of Kelly's castle's stairway:

Succumbing to the hunger of a week-long absence from Bodyjam, Nicole started doing the "Look At Me" track in the imaginary dance studio on the upper levels of Kelly's castle:


The making of promotional materials for the upcoming release of Bodybalance, right on the helipad:

In between exploring the various dark corners of the castle, the sisterhood find time for some physical attributes comparison exercise:

With their respective lovers hundreds of miles away, the dreamy setting of the rolling tea plantations become the perfect opportunity for new sparks to fly within the sisterhood:

Sister Nicole drown in a deep imagination of a hunky policeman out to pin her down in this deserted stretch of the tea plantation and do unspeakable things onto her:

An early morning body-to-body massage, the perfect way to start the day:

Sindy and her attention-grabbing mini tent:

But the highlight of the trip is not the countless sisterhood bonding sessions that we had behind the closed door of the hotel room, or the heavenly-tasting salted chicken and curry chicken bun in Ipoh, or the frustrating traffic deadlock while exiting the Boh visitor’s center, but the highlight came in the form of a boyish Chinese guy with charms as far-reaching as the highest peak in the highland resort. The effect was instant, the four sisters unanimously succumbed to his magical charisma of which he seemed to so effortlessly exude in between spinning the cotton candies and interacting with customers who have lined up to adore him. His pull was indeed one of Cameronian proportions:

And we even came up with our own riddle along the way too:

Question: Tricia and Nicole started the journey back from Cameron Highlands to KL with some fresh strawberries in the car, but upon reaching the city, they discovered that the fresh strawberries have turned into strawberry jam instead. Why le?

Answer: They were jamming in the car.

Remnants

A guy stopped me as I was sashaying my way down the stairs after Bodyjam.

“Hey, do you remember me?” He asked.

I turned around and sensed some familiarity in his smile, but said, “Erm.. not really. You are?”

“Oh, we met in Mandi-Manda some time back.” He said softly.

“Oh okies. I haven’t been in awhile.” I adjusted my backpack strap and started my descent down the stairs slowly again.

“It’s OK, maybe I’ll see you there again sometimes?” He pushed further.

“Nah, I’ve retired from the scene.” Turned around before waiting for the sentence to finish and left.

••

I have lived the past few years wondering if I’ll ever find the courage to remove myself from this diseased obsession. As I pushed open the glass door, I turned back and gave this guy, the remnants of my past, a wide, cheeky smile before the warm evening sunlight hit my face that was right now bathed in a seemingly surreal sense of total emancipation.

One Sunday Evening

I stood by the window in my bedroom, admiring the city skyline which was right now shimmering in the golden sunlight of a weekend evening. There was a gentle breeze flowing through the wide open windows. I closed my eyes and focused on the peals of laughter from the children playing by the pool downstairs, and picked up the distant hum of the passing train along the way. From the kitchen came a cacophony of clanking utensils as Mum busied herself with preparing dinner.

There was something surreal about this whole experience – it’s Sunday evening and I’m at home.

It feels not too long ago when I first roamed the realms of those sweat-choked, cum-choked dark room territories. The countless hours of mindless, fruitless hunting games, I knew that wasn’t what I wanted right from the start, yet it was strangely addictive. I was helplessly pulled in to the whirlpool of lust, lured week after week with the promise of love, and let down again and again by the games of deception and lies.

If I have the energy to go on, why not the courage to put this to an end?

And it seems now, five years since I embarked on the journey in search of love in all the wrong places, it will now end exactly where it has begun. On ground zero, I have a collection of experiences and encounters that, even though were heart-felt and vivid as they unfolded, have failed to stand the test of time, and I have emerged with wounds that perhaps may never heal. But on ground zero, I have now gathered enough reasons to set off on a separate path, away from the dizzying darkened corridors and the depressing weekly routine of hopes and disappointments. This path smells of the sweetened promise of a stable relationship and the reassuring reward of security and stability.

A much anticipated end to an overdue chapter of my life. I smiled as I helped Mum with the dishes and set the table for dinner, my first dinner on Sunday at home since as long as I can remember.

Why Can't Bodyjam Be Like This????

The Fantastic Three

If you are tired of all the mindless and fruitless hunting games in saunas, or of the frusfratingly disappointing latest IRC/gay.com meetup who did not seem the least like the guy in his profile photo, or the piercing pain of rejection from a tired boyfriend, it's comforting to know that you can now take matters into your own hand, literally.

First, revisit the climatic pleasures afforded by the tight sensation of a male butt, now made from supersoft skinlike material for the most realistic touch. Behold the Butt banger:


Or if taking the pleasures of the world from your back is more of your line of business, then perhaps the 10" Ty Fox realistic cock would do you wonders:

Still, if you suddenly have a craving for the gentle suction of a hungry mouth ready to take every inch that you can cook up during the long drive home, the remote-controlled vacuum function Auto suck comes complete with a car-lighter plug and is ready at your service 24/7.

Time to give the sauna owners a run for their money?

The Increasingly Complicated Sisterhood

Click on image for larger view

Business is definitely getting bigger.

我要看出戏

张宇“曲终人散”的副歌部分，我们借了切心的意境第一次握了对方的手把歌一起唱完。离开REDBOX后，我记得问了自己会不会有再次握着你的手的机会，还非常记得过后在读着你在1:22am传来的简讯时的那份难以置信的感觉。

我只是不记得为什么两个人在一起的事情会演变成一波又一波的烦恼。在这个错综复杂的同志圈子里，我们的发展好像都掉到了别人的控制盘里，就连你的好朋友的前度男友的前度男友也有好建议。两个人就这样七情六欲地就跟着剧本演下去。

大家都当一场玩偶戏来看。

可是我不是在做戏，付出的不能在散场时收回。那晚在你房里，我赤裸上身对着你突然闯了进来的前度男友时，他用悲痛的眼神也跟我说了同样的话。终于明白你们根本还没结束。

原来我一直在演独角戏。

故事来到大结局，可以数出至少有五位我所谓的好朋友会从座位上站起来对着这满意的结束大拍手掌，因为“来得快的东西去得快”，因为XX的朋友说你是玩家，因为我这种“cruiser”没资格学人谈恋爱。

原来我失去了你的同时，也失去了这些朋友。

•••

庆功宴的那晚，我要最后一次握着你的手，在台上亲自谢谢曾经为这出戏付出的人。

BRAVEHEART ^[108]

Alone, All Over Again

Here we go again, I told myself as I dragged my luggage out of Schipol Airport. Another brand new city to explore on my own, yet the experience of braving a new piece of unfamiliar territory seems eerily reminiscent of a not-so-distant past.

God knows who I'll meet this time, but at least there won't be any hurricanes for sure.

The Rather Complicated Sisterhood

Click on image for larger view
Extended sisterhoods have been omitted to reduce complications.

A Melbourne Day

A Melbourne day, fulfilling in its own way, you talked about work, your past boyfriends, your boss, yourself, I had Milo Kosong Ais, two glasses I think, couldn’t help but tell you you look adorable. You stood by the bus stop at the monorail station, waiting for me with your huge luggage, the one that you said you’ll use to pack me to Melbourne with you. You asked what you can cook for me, and set off to prepare the dishes enthusiastically, on that mindless cooking game on your Nintendo DS. I asked for your Fridae profile, not many photos in there, you acted awkward, yes I can tell your profile says you’re in a monogamous relationship, it’s fine coz I guess that doesn’t apply when you’re in saunas. It’s fine too, when I found out that you’ve gone to the saunas again before meeting up with me for dinner, you were 3 hours late, not a problem, I wasn’t hungry anyway, I don’t know why. That night we sat for a very long time in the car, you asked why I have stopped writing to you when we met three years back, I said it’s you who disappeared, and then you gave me a goodnight kiss. Along the busy ring road just outside the ERL transit of KL Sentral, you dragged your huge luggage out of the back seat, we hugged, hugged for the entire stretch of bumper-to-bumper traffic to see, seemed like a long one, most probably the last one I’ll ever get from you. You said I’ll come visit you in Hong Kong when you’re back there, share the room in your 600sq-ft apartment, you’ll bring me places. You stood there while I drove off, all the while looking my way, you promised you’ll call, your temporary Digi prepaid line won’t work there anymore, but you’ll call. But then you did not call, no call no sms no message in fridae. I checked my phone, my fridae account, my email, your blog, checked again and again. Maybe you were jetlagged (let’s pretend there is a time difference), maybe you couldn’t get online (but Fridae showed that you just logged on this morning). I’m puzzled, I just need one single message from you to thank me for our time together, you don’t have to say you miss me, certainly not love me, and it’s ok if we don’t meet again. Just a short thank you message to bring closure to this short-lived moment of happiness, but you have to deny me of this last piece of the puzzle, the crowning glory that will seal the few days we were together into eternal bliss.

I drove by the bus stop where I had fetched you this afternoon again, there was a painful void that just won’t not shut up. It screamed so loud it hurt. And then I dreamt of you again, we holding hands on a peaceful Melbourne day, and that was the last I will ever see of you.

BRAVEHEART ^[107]

Confessions In The Dark Room

In the busy darkened corridor he pinned me against the wall, wrapped his arms around my waist in one graceful sweep and started running his tongue down my neck. In his fervor, his stubbles chafed the sides of my chin, leaving a trail of burning yet strangely gratifying pain.

“Shall we go to the room?” He broke the silence.

“I just want to hug like this, can I?” I tightened my grip around his body, closed my eyes and buried my face deep in his shoulders. The warmth of his body was arresting.

“You come all the way here just for hugs?” He protested.

“Yes I do.”

•••

For many years, I wandered this forbidden territory in search of answers. Perhaps I will never be cured, of this permanent dysfunctional void in my heart, of the constantly painful craving for attention and affection and of all the different inane ways I go about to pursue them. I’m helpless against a torrent of emotional confusion, I can’t figure out what I want; and even more pathetic against the cruel reality of gay life, I will never get what I want.

Please let me know how to move on.

•••

“Thanks for the hugs, you can go now.” I adjusted my towel and left for a cold shower.

Otot-Otot: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

(Click on images for larger views)

An uncle started stripping next to me in the lockers as I was getting ready to change and leave. As I put on my shoes he seemed still stuck at the first stage of undress – removing his shirt.

“Haiya! Tell you don’t wear so tight already, don’t want to listen!”

His aggravated sauna kaki pushed his struggling clumpy hands away from his skin-tight shirt, and started painstakingly shifting the velvety material inch by inch up the multiple-folds of his colossal belly.

“Know how to put on, but don’t know how to remove meh!” The grumbling continued as I left.

Chubs and chubs-chasers of the world unite!

台北人

周日Alor的热闹气氛不比周末逊色。你乘我被对街小贩争执分了心的时候，伸手夹了一大块烧鱼放在我的蝶里，然后斜了椰子猛吸着吸管。

烧鱼啃到一半，看到你在传着英文简讯时傻乎乎的神情，突然有一丝醉意。

“曼谷跟吉隆坡，你喜欢哪个城市？”

“以前喜欢曼谷，现在觉得吉隆坡比较好。。”你放下了手机，望着我说。

BRAVEHEART ^[106]

Mandi Mandi: A Map of Indulgence (Updated)

(click on images for larger views)

Yay! The gym is finally opened. *yawn*

How Could You Just Let Go?

Crying Games

One stuffy afternoon, many years back, I had company in my room. He’s someone I met from IRC, the in-thing back then, before MSN messenger, Gay.com and Fridae, together with its wannabe sister Axcest, infiltrated the local online cruising scene.

I could not recall much detail of the fun we had, that was because it got memorable only after the climax was out of the way. I remember we were in an embrace, he on me, and I was just waiting for him to finish the session perhaps with a comment about the hot weather and the need for a quick shower, or the amount of work waiting for him back in the office. But he held on and stayed very still. And then something very strange happened.

He started to cry.

It was a muted sob at first, coupled with intermittent sniffing, which I brushed off as the symptoms of a momentary lapse of the body’s defense system after a (good) climax. But the sobs quickly accelerated in pace and intensity, becoming more and more definite with each turn. And soon the writhing began, limbs started to shiver and then got contorted in an awkward way, as though trying hard to fight the onslaught of pain. Finally the reservoir of grief could hold no longer, and it quickly degenerated into an ensemble of acute display of defeat.

Utter defeat.

Over my body ran streams of tears that picked up my sweat along its path, before rolling off and landing on the bed. The mid afternoon sunlight filtered through the fading curtains and threw a cloak of intricate pattern of twigs and flowers on our entangled limbs, and then this peculiar matrimony of bodily deposits was complete.

I started to feel his pain, the indescribable urge to tear your aching heart out of your ribcage. Yet I have no idea what or who caused this. Perhaps I could, if he has allowed me a few years of exploring the scene, if only I know of the sheer brutality that this queer world is so capable of. But at that time, I did not move a muscle, or say a word. It didn’t seem necessary at all.

Before long, there was silence.

The stream of tears finally run dry, his eyes incapable of any further onslaughts of sorrow. Slowly, he lifted himself from me; his face was a wet clutter of twisted expressions. I looked at him and lifted my hand to trace it across his cheeks, wiping away the concoction of tears and sweat along the way. He looked back at me and broke into a weak smile.

So from the depths of the fathomless pool that had consumed him earlier, he rose again, freed and liberated, for now, from the dark water of yesterday. The sorrow had subsided, banished once again into the darkest recess of his subconscious mind. He turned and looked towards the bedroom window, and took a deep breath.

“Hey, didn’t notice the pretty curtains earlier.”

••

We didn’t meet again after that afternoon, but the image of his weak smile after the broke-down solidified in my memory as a single moment of renewed hope and new-found peace.

Life just goes on, doesn’t matter how painful it gets.

Nothing.

What does five hours of hugging in the sweat-choked air of One Seven really mean?
What does saying “I’d be happy to have a boyfriend like you.” really mean?
What does sending late night ‘missing you’ SMS’s really mean?
What do 'dearie' and 'cutie' really mean?
What do virtual hugs and kisses really mean?
What does waking up at 5am and taking a 5-hour bus journey to KL really mean?
What does holding hands in the car braving a late Friday evening bumper traffic really mean?
What does taking a stroll across the KLCC park on a drizzling Saturday afternoon really mean?
What does making weird noises on my stomach while saying 'hujan' really mean?
What does falling asleep together and waking up the next morning in each other’s arms really mean?
What do all the discussions about moving to a neutral city and staying together really mean?
What does “We’ll make this work.” really mean?
What does “I love you.” really mean?
What does 'critisize' really mean?
What does "You're stressing me out" really mean?
What does cool-off period really mean?
What do you really mean?
What do I really mean?
What does anything at all really mean?

BRAVEHEART ^[105]

A Songkran Miracle

Perhaps it’s never meant to last. I raised my legs onto the bench, wrapped my warms around them, and let my body loose its balance so that I would tip towards you. We looked each other in the eyes. Another train arrived at the Siam Skytrain station. Did we see the farewell episode playing already?

You still have powder on your face. Why the longing glance. I pulled my shirt towards you and wiped them off, slowly tracing the perfect contours of your smile. If I could also wipe away the memories of this Songkran miracle, maybe we could then happily go on our separates lives, you a figure in a 9-million strong population, and me an unsuspecting tourist on a festive sightseeing.

We shall never have tried the bitter-sweet taste of a tight embrace in an even more tightly packed G-Star, or the wicked sensation of ice-cold water down the spine, or locking hands in the cinema, or running across the water fountain in front of Paragon.

But your first smile in 39 Underground, I will bring with me to the grave.

It’s never meant to be, why did we hang on. Staring out a quiet KL skyline towards your city, and then at the AirAsia website, I realized the missed calls won’t do, doesn’t matter how many times we exchange them everyday.

It’s never meant to be, why did we hang on.

BRAVEHEART ^[104]

Mandi Manda: A Map of Indulgence

(click on images for larger views)

In celebration of more than a year of undivided support from the sauna-going population of KL, Mandi Manda has embarked on a new wave of improvement that sees the opening of an entirely new maze area in Mandi Manda, complete with more rooms and the introduction of a themed dark room dedicated to S&M worshippers. Fans can also look forward to a gym and web surfing section that are planned for the old maze area. Not quite close to Thailand and Singapore yet but we're getting there.

What We All Aspire To Be ...

Heartbreak Needles

“We prefer that you close your eyes to avoid any accidents.”

The doctor’s voice was as calm as the sea, but the evil apparatus in his right hand signaled a fast approaching storm. I held tight to both sides of bed and for a brief moment, forgot again why I was subjecting myself to such a trauma.

The tri-beveled hypodermic needle soon punctured a hole on my skin’s surface. Its sharp edges tasted blood and quickly set off to work, maneuvering in a repetitive back and forth movement to cut away fibrous tissues as far as its blades could reach. The pain got worse with every twitch; I felt tears collecting in my tightly shut eyes, and so opened them slightly to release some pressure just in time to catch sight of blood-stained cotton buds being removed from my face.

And then I remembered why I need to do this.

Subcision is painful, but as half as bad as heartbreaks.

Rainy Sunday Morning

I was awaken by the gentle tapping of raindrops on the window. Turned and found the twin towers gone. The weather had finally taken a pleasant change. Pulled the comforter up all the way to my nose and realized that I hadn’t had the aircond switched on. The dirty laundry from last night was still lying on the floor.

Said my goodbyes to hot, stuffy nights.

Said my goodbyes to a 7-year-old relationship.

Caught with Pants Down!

KUALA LUMPUR: It was an afternoon of chaos and pandemonium at Fitness First Manulife. At 3:45pm, the manager received an urgent call from the front desk staff relating a horrifying event that had taken place at the men changing room.

“I was utterly speechless! How could anyone do such a revolting act to the poor mannequin?” A member who declined to be named was heard commenting immediately after the faithful event.

“I hope they put the person who’s responsible for such grievances and shame to justice!” Another lady gymmer who had managed to catch a glimpse of the gruesome sight said in between tears.

Rumours had it that the management had initially taken active steps to stop the spread of this news by issuing a 3-year free membership to all gymmers who were (un)fortunate enough to witness the event. However, all staff had declined to comment further.

In an unexpected press release issued later on the same day, the management then expressed shock and regret of the event, and has pledged commitment to taking active measures in creating a more conducive environment to allow more uninhibited expression of physical attraction between human male gymmers, which they believe will put a stop to these unspeakable acts.

I Cannot

I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.
I cannot miss someone who doesn’t miss me.

But I will.

BRAVEHEART ^[103]

A Dimple Festival

The neighbourhood hummed a subtle tune of peace and desolateness that seemed to spiral deeper into the wee hours of the morning this first night of the year of the boar. I emerged from the compound of my apartment and caught you standing across the street from the guard house.

It seemed like ages ago since I last did this, but it certainly didn’t feel out of place. We would stick to the universally accepted agenda of going for a drink, evaluating the chemistry, have sex or say goodbye.

Sometimes, it doesn’t work.

••

I landed on the fabulously cozy bed and let out a helpless gasp as I lost all mental facilities to fight the urge of joining the throng of other IKEA shoppers in various embarrassing acts like taking photos while lying down in the bathtub or in front of their dream kitchen, or having a make-believe reunion dinner around the dining table, or struggling intensely to figure out how the LACK storage sticks to the wall with no visible support. You came to my rescue, failed miserably and landed right next to me. We stayed in this position for time immemorial, digging ourselves further into the comforter, legs dangling freely off the edge of the bed. Our eyes met.

“Let’s do it here!”

“ … ”

••

You were frantically toying with my hand, scratching and slapping and pinching it, as though it was the puppet we saw at the children section just now. I moved our trolley further into the giant cargo lift to disappear behind the equally gigantic ang moh in front of me, and hopefully away from the glances of other shoppers. Felt like ramming the Gorm storage long post into you, and then you flashed me that cheeky dimpled smile which melted the post and brought me down with it.

••

“Can I hug you?”

You turned over and were already resting half your weight on me before I could say yes. The timber strip flooring beneath us felt dusty from the renovation works that were still in progress, but nothing could really hold our passion back. As I felt your lips roam my neck, I looked out the floor-to-ceiling window and caught the KL skyline, and was confused if my short of breath was because of you or the breathtaking view outside. At this instant, the world was divided between a stuffy empty bedroom with two naked guys making love on the floor, and a peaceful 4am morning this second night of Chinese New Year.

I'll need to get the blinds installed soon, and the bed fixed as well of course.

••

The neighbourhood hummed a subtle tune of peace and desolateness that seemed to spiral deeper into the wee hours of the morning this third night of the year of the boar. You jumped out of your car and came around to open the door for me. It still couldn’t be opened from within. There was a certain unmistakable sorrow in the air as you walked me to the guardhouse, we didn’t make the effort to put them into words.

I stood there at the pavement, long after you left, your dimpled smile stuck in my mind like a ravenous leech on a juicy limb, and then I wondered if the whole episode ever happened.

BRAVEHEART ^[103]