Manila Gay Guy
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I think this letter/story is quite touching, so I’m featuring it here. “Skye” thanks for sharing!

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hi migs,

with the consecutive typhoons hitting our country people started to dread the rain. rain shouldn’t be feared nor rejected. the rain itself is not the root cause of our problems. we badly need better drainage and better waste management. i sure hope i don’t sound insensitive and selfish when i say that i love the rain. (i said rain and not typhoons.)

the rain has always been a friend of mine. it has brought me many wonderful memories. i would like to share with you one of them. migs, have you ever felt love slip right out of your hands.. like it was incredibly close that you could touch it, grab it.. but then you somehow lost the chance to do so? this is exactly how i felt with this person.

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Mario Boytoy I was talking to a guy tonight, a friend of a friend, and just through 2 cigarette sticks he related his lifestory. A sob story. Mario never knew his parents, who died before he could even be conscious of having them; he grew up in Mindanao, in his sister’s care, under whom carino brutal took a slightly different flavor — she accounted all his growing up expenses every chance she got, and for a while that drove Mario to always do well in his studies. “Balang araw,” he thought, “magiging malaking tao rin ako, babayaran ko lahat ng ginastos niya sa akin.” The psychology worked for a while, earning Mario top honors when he graduated Salutatorian from grade school. The same psychology backlashed though, and before Mario could earn his high school diploma, his motivation flipped and he ran away from his sister’s care.

He found himself in the busy, chilly streets of Baguio. “Alam mo yung Slumdog? Ganun. Taong kalye ako, madungis, pagala-gala. Pero hindi ako ni minsan namalimos.” At 15, he survived by finding odd jobs anywhere he could. One day, a knight in shining armor came. He introduced Mario to a friend who operated a restobar. There, he became a waiter, then assistant cook, then cook, and at one point, because the resto owner once heard him sing while cooking, became the restobar’s singer-entertainer. This was the time he started to gain confidence about his abilities. Great things were happening to him. But at the background, something was nagging at him. The knight in shining armor has, from day one, been his abode partner, and from then grew more possessive each day that passed. “Hanggang sa nasakal ako. Maayos na ako dun, pero di ko nakayanan ang paghihigpit nya.” He escaped his knight’s grip and once again tried his luck elsewhere. This time, in Manila.

In the country’s capital, he stayed with relatives. He was welcomed and treated well by his city relatives, but only because he brought home money. “May ipon ako nun, galing Baguio. Pero nararamdaman ko, unti-unting nagiging dependent mga kapamilya ko sa akin.” He was happy helping, but it didn’t take long for him to realize it was only because he brought home food to eat, not just for himself but for everyone in the house.

“Sa mga pinagdaanan ko sa buhay, tumatak sa isip ko, lahat ng bagay may kapalit. Yung ate ko, pinalaki niya ako, pero gusto niya bayaran ko lahat ng nagastos niya sa akin. Yung tumulong sa akin sa Baguio, lahat ng tulong niya may kapalit. Kinse pa lang ako, ginagamit na niya katawan ko. Kahit mga kapamilya ko, pinatira nila ako sa bahay nila, pero meron ding kapalit.”

Mario continued on telling his story, up to how he has become a boytoy of sorts to the rich, famous, and fabulous, Manila’s gay glitterati. He was almost apologetic when he told me he earns up to 12k a day, just “accompanying” his clients. “Malayo na ang narating ko. Dati ang dungis-dungis ko. Ngayon, kita mo, Migs — ang kinis at amputi ko na di ba? Atsaka marunong na rin akong mag-ayos at magbihis.” He was smiling a naughty smile while he was saying this, and that was when I felt Mario actually had charisma, not just looks. “Kapag umuuwi nga ako ng probinsiya, pakiramdam ko, artista ako. Yung mga kapitbahay ko dati, nagpapakuha sila ng litrato sa akin. Basta maputi, basta taga-Maynila, para sa kanila, importante. Ang hindi nila alam, yung totoong trabaho ko dito. Mga ignorante.”

I sat there, in deep thought, almost hypnotized. His second cigarette was finished, and with the dancing smoke that tapered out of the spent butt, my mind meandered too, pondering on those powerful words, “lahat ng bagay may kapalit.”

Here’s a series of letters I received from someone who calls himself “ILoveAlec” a Pinoy gay guy in Malaysia.

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Hi Migs,

I’m a big fan of your site. I always read whatever you put there. I’m the guy that hates drama hehehehe. I’ve been wanting to write you for the longest time but can’t find good story to share until yesterday Nov 8, 2008.

I’m currently in Malaysia for a short visit. Yesterday I went to see the Petronas out of curiosity because I’ve been hearing a lot of good words from people who see it and also from the movies.

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Hi Migs,

I’ve been reading your blog for almost three years and im so happy dahil maraming humihingi ng advice syo. Anyway just call me Macky, I just wanna share my story or should I say a problem. I’m a straight acting bi, walang nakakaalam kung ano ang tunay na feelings ko. Very discreet sabi nga nila. Nagwowork ako sa isang amusement company as operations manager for almost a decade, then minsan naaassign ako sa malayong lugar. Right now 6 months na ako sa Mindanao.

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[This is a contribution from MGG reader named Red. Posting it here, verbatim.]

I’d like to share my own experience, though too long for the viewers’ eyes. This is something unbelievable and could make for a good script for a movie that it could even rival the story of the Brokeback Mountain. Just to find release, I’d like to see it posted in no less than Migs’ site, so that others may be enlightened or inspired, or of whatever purpose it could serve to the readers. More importantly, my story opposes that of the twink-hungry and abusive PLU (gay) teachers’ usual portrayal by the media. Let me do it by way of using Southborder’s famous songs and the songs I’d love to listen to.

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[Here’s a letter / contribution of Coffee Boy]

“Hey, just wanted to ask, are you gay, bisexual or something?” then I replied, “that… I’m not particularly sure of… I have a gf, but to be honest, I enjoy ‘it’ with men. No labels. Ikaw?” – then I got cold silence as a reply.

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It was the 30th day of my birthday month, though still in the middle of the week, the following day was the end of Ramadan and thus was declared a holiday. I got nothing to do that payday afternoon and so I decided to just hang around. Walking along Timog / Tomas Morato area with no one and with literally nothing to do, I decided to go to one of my favorite spa places and pamper myself with an hour and a half long massage.

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Hi Migs,

Alam ko dami mo letter-sender na inspiring ang mga messages nila. Hindi ko alam kung medyo kakaiba ito but this is real at gusto ko ishare sa mga readers mo.

I’m 29 years old, very happily married but no child yet by choice and straight-acting. Hindi ko itatanggi na I have been practicing this orientation for almost 5 years and so far so good.. At alam mo naman siguro pag mga straight-acting, mas active ang sex-life kesa sa mga open or so I think. Naranasan ko na halos lahat ng klase ng gay-sex. 3some, orgies, seb, name it. Malamang sa hindi, nagawa ko na. Kaya masasabi ko na bato na ang puso ko sa emosyon. Hindi na ako madaling maattach emotionally sa mga kasex ko. Until recently.

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Hi Migs,

I bet you might be tired of getting emails about guys being in the closet, but reading some of the letters on your blog I muscled up some strength to ask for just assistance, I’m actually looking for like a support group for people like me, or others like me (confused, troubled, down-low, closet). I’m just a regular working bloke and can’t afford a shrink, I’m living independently both of my parents passed away already, and as for support of my brothers & sisters that’s another story.

I always try to brush away this dilemma of mine and think there are way more serious problems in this world we live in and just be content that I have a place to sleep, food to eat, money in my pocket, stable job. But then..(I know it sounds like a cliche)..for the past 30+ years of my life there’s like a big sack of dirt in my shoulders that I’m trying to lift each and every single day, trying not to drag me down.

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Hi Migs. Call me Ethan. This is the first time I’m writing your site, but have been an avid reader of yours since 2006. It has been a source of comfort and relief for me, knowing that I’m not alone in my struggles in this world. Anyway, the reason I’m writing is because I too have a problem. I think I’m in love, for the first time in my life. Let me explain.

It started almost two weeks ago. I ‘met’ him, of all places, in a porn site. He saw my profile, messaged me, asked me for my MSN, and the rest, as they say, is history. At first, we chatted irregularly, once every few days or so. On 17 August, however, everything took a turn for the better. We started messaging each other more; sometimes we’d last anywhere from 3 to 4 hours, just sitting and sending each other messages. I became enamored with him; everything about him was perfect! We had the same interests: history, politics, books, and all this for a guy who was 18 (I’m 19). We even shared some interesting commonalities; he and I are both altar boys, we both come from big families, and we are both firmly planted in the closet. In no time at all, I think we became too sweet to each other — and we’ve never even met!

The trouble started a few days ago.

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If there’s one thing this past week that made me stop and think, ponder and reflect, it was Charlie’s letter.

I’m Charlie, turning 27 in a couple of months. I’d like to share my story with your readers… I found out about my condition (…) last year. I’m HIV positive.

His was the third I received this August, talking about being HIV-positive. His letter simply rendered me without anything to say, at least temporarily. I didn’t know how to react. It was overwhelming. I thought, if I fire off sweet, encouraging words, will that really help? Will that really make Charlie feel better about his condition? If I start playing the role of a cold jaundiced preacher, lecturing on lessons learned from Charlie’s experience and perhaps advocate “safe sex” till the cows come home, will it really make a difference? I don’t know.

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