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Hi Migs!

I am fond of reading your blog.
I am Ayan. Straight ako when I was in high school, I’m sure of that. Marami akong naging girlfriend nun. Until one time, I need to have a tutorial in Math because of my low grades. so i went to my tutor’s apartment at around 6pm. he is one of the best math teachers in my school by that time, but he didn’t handle our class. i am well-known in our school, that’s why he offered me his help. Malakas ung ulan nung gabing nun, i didnt bring my umbrella so i got wet.. when i entered his apartment, he told me to take off my clothes baka daw sipunin ako. hinubad ko naman kasi ok lang naman siguro un parehas naman kaming lalake, walang malisya un.

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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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Thank you, thank you, thank you to all who have sent in their messages to my mobile (+63-915-869-2229). I apologize for not being able to reply via text — I hope you understand. Rest assured I’m reading all your text messages. In fact I’m publishing some of those I received so far. Again thank you, nakatataba ng puso ang mga messages ninyo. Keep `em coming! Mwah! World Peace!

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Hi Migs,

I don’t know what made me send this letter to you. I can say that I’m a fan of your site- a regular visitor. I have read a lot of letters from your readers, and I must say I can pretty much relate to some of them.

My dilemma starts with me, being gay, in a “Christian” family. It’s hard; I grew-up attending Sunday school, I even became a Sunday-school teacher myself, and sometime in my life thought of becoming a pastor, but I know something is different with me.

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To tell, or not to tell… to die everyday, or to take the leap with the risk of getting forever bruised by unrequited love… hay, ang pag-ibig nga naman. A reader who calls himself “bad habit’s victim” engages us with his typical yet sincere story. A former teacher falls for his former student. Read on, dears, and share your thoughts.

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Hi Migs,

For starters, I must say that your blog is truly a haven of respite from all the weariness and desolation, most especially the eye candies you regularly feature notwithstanding the varied stories from your followers. This is where I am actually taking off. Your blog is not just a site where we could view the most pleasing male species but it is also a venue where one could just bare his story, his soul, his despairs and anguish, in the hope that somehow, somewhere, from your insights and from the others, he could arrive at some liberating answers.

I have fallen so deeply, clumsily, and crazily in love with a guy whom I call “bad habit”. Heeding from that somewhat familiar song, he’s definitely a hard habit to break. I’ve been trying to break away from it but the more I do, the messier I become. I believe my tale, though somehow typical, is a difficult one. Here’s the catch: I’m 26 years old, bad habit’s 18. I’m his former teacher, he’s my former student. I am not out. I am only to my closest friends, my lifelines.

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