My Blog

On Skin Deep (first try)

I didn't think I'd be here. Thirty plus and single is not a friendly place. The last 60 pounds of excess weight sort of just crept up on me. The next thing I knew, I'm a wall flower watching the 20+ set flirt their way in and out of each others' lives. It's cruel, this Rigodon, but getting stuck on the sidelines can be even worse. I watch one broken heart follow another empty promise. And I start asking myself why I've been left out of this dance. I'm smart, and occasionally funny. I'm capable of great loyalty, and I know I can even be abundant of wit and charm. I wonder a bit more before answer becomes so blatantly vulgar, I just squirm at the thought... I'm not beautiful anymore.

Grudgingly close to admitting (maybe submitting is a better word) to this horrible insight, I decided to look for something to prove me wrong. And as if by some whim of God (or a joke of fate), PETA opened with their play Skin Deep and my good friend, Bituin Escalante was in it. Why the hell not? Theatre always seems to be a good place to look for the meaning of life. Lord knows it's one of the last few places where intelligent writing can be found (were you hoping TV or the movies?). So I went and saw.

Disclaimer! I am not an expert on theater, however Rent Manila is my peg (I saw that musical four times). I've been told by people from that scene that's a bit of bar to hit. So though you won't see my reviews posted in any Broadway publications, I can at least be confident in my tastes. Beyond that, there's really no point in looking for a critique from me because I'm just blogging, not reviewing.

Moving on. I'm obligated to provide you with a short synopsis of the play. It's safe to read on. This is not a spoiler.

Written by Vince De Jesus, this is a witty take on the formula of beauty and happiness. Dr. Beaumont Batoctol, renowned aesthetic surgeon slash beauty guru slash everything else, opens the Skin Deep Beauty Spa where everything can be done. Make overs, style adjustments, personality implantation, and least of all body augmentations, you name it (or even if you can't name it), it can be done. Seven lucky contestants win a one month stay in this heaven of redos. But, as their stay in Skin Deep lengthens, and their superficial concerns addressed, their internal issues begin manifesting themselves, climaxing in an eruption of confrontations both physically and sexually (yes, it almost seems mandatory for all theatre presentations to touch on homosexuality). Simply put, this story is about the elusive golden grail of human aesthetics, the balance between beauty and happiness.

I must say, the play was less than perfect. Audio was in and out. There was a fare number of miscues. But that maybe became the thematic of the play itself, what is perfection when there is no love? The play was not but I know I loved it a lot.

Anyway, this is a blog. Not an attempt at a pseudo intellectual analysis of the script or the performance. So it all goes back to what Skin Deep did for me, and why I love it. I guess it didn't really tell me anything that I didn't already know. I have no new profound message that relates to my being single, 32, and in the quarter ton range of weight. What it did tell me though is that I'm happy to be me. That I'm capable of thought, and near endless amount of patience. I have an immense capacity for caring. Somehow, Skin Deep made that all enough for me to be nominal with myself. Yes, that doesn't solve my being single, but fuck it, when all is said and done, deep inside I'm hot. Maybe you can't take my word for it, but I know those who know me can.

What's Your Trip

Because I feel like post Valentine's crap, I found myself sifting through my favorite band's songs for some kick ass lyrics coz somebody's behind really deserves a boot up the left cheek. So readup. My favorite song for now.

What's Your Trip?

What's your trip
It's a trip out
You'll be trippin baby
What's your trip?
Why you trippin' like that?

You said that I was the one
The only one that rang your bell
Now you say, that things are ok
But something's wrong and I can tell

It's fine to change your mind
But not a thousand times
Your actions speak louder than words
And I can read between the lines

What's your trip?

You told me that this was so right
Just about as right as rain
Now you contradict yourself
Coz all you seem to do is complain

Do this and don't do that
You think your wish is my command
It don't take half a brain
To see that this is more than I can stand

What's your trip?

I called you up on the phone
But you were nowhere to be found
It felt like the Twilight Zone
While your were out there playing around

You lie and then you cry
But it was just a game
You left me high and dry
And it will never be the same

What's your trip?

In Bleeding

A pen is soaked in crimson

Legacied by a tomorrow that was never written

Held in the arms of a heart that was never mine

 

And in the grasp of realities gone by

An existence verified only by the traces

Of pain and memories too cheap to sell

But leased to rotting vineyards and pushers

 

I remember vaguely

You, my breath, my river, my Pandora

Twisted in the temporal touch

Of my loving human eyes

 

There is nothing but recall

Not the love, not the lust

Not a winter for the autumn that never came

No storms, no breeze, no name

 

When day heralds the retreat of night

I prevail with not even a scar

All of you but a fading ghost

Like a song I hear but can never play

 

I sigh

For You I Never Touched

As you slumber upon the grass meadows

Endowed upon you by dreams and substance

I watch your form, fatigued and subdued

By the unfairness that has been yours

Through default, or free will

Disappointment defines you beyond all else

You’re a scar that was never really a wound

Still, I bothered to care

To jump into that open casket of vipers

There’d be nothing there for me to savor

Save the liquor of denial we treasure

'Tis tragedy that makes you triumphant

For that, I had to fall.

Only to get up, and fall again
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A poem for somebody who has come in my life and gone.

 

Underneath

Eyes breathe your treasures

A transit of liquid from my mouth to yours

I take your bare chest in a loving kiss

Burning skin on burning skin

The slinking of your body beneath mine

Exploring the world that you are

Heaven in the guise of flesh

Love, lust, release

The plan is simple but the dance is complex

One melding of sensations and a fusing of hearts

I take your wine and forgo the chalice of purity

For nothing is more immaculate

Than what we do beneath the sheets
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* I contributed this poem to a special  edition of InfoNXX's newsletter way back in September of 2003. It was heavily edited for reasons I don't actually understand. This is the full uncut version. Enjoy with both hands please.