It has been three days since I have heard from Harry. The last time I talked with him was when he was on his way back to his hometown (school holidays and all) and he finally had time to get online. He did not mention anything much, and I thought everything is fine.

On Tuesday, Harry finally replied to my numerous messages that I have sent. He said that he was busy with school and such, thats why he had been ‘away’ for the weekend. His text messages were slow, and very unusual.

The then reveal that he was also busy, and wanted to be alone with his boy friend.

I was surprised.

To further my already surprised state of mine, Harry told me that he want to cut contacts with me because he do not feel good about us being friends.

I am not sure what had triggered Harry, but he sent me a text message saying “Point is, let’s just cut contact with each other. All d best. Bye”

I called Harry on his mobile. No answer. I tried again and Harry answered.

I was trying to find out was it because of the sex that we had that he wanted to this. Not forgetting that the boy done this to me before, and I was then not sure what I should be doing.

Harry’s boy friend was beside him, and snatch the phone from Harry.

“I know who are you. You don’t disturb my boyfriend, I know all about you Cedric. CedricAng.com isn’t it? I know”

I wasn’t surprised. To know something that is publicly known, and the person thinks he knows me. For all he knows, he probably knows jackshit, and tries to brainwash Harry into thinking that I am a bad person. I don’t care.

I continue talking with Harry, still reluctant with his decisions, he wanted it to end that way.

I guess, I have to respect him, for one, because I treat him as a friend, and secondly I really do not want him to feel uncomfortable because of what had happen.

It was my mistake. I should not have done that without thinking about the repercussion of the things that might happen because sex is involved.

Yes, the sex session was pleasant, but I think after that, I could sense that Harry regret the decision. Back then, I did not think much about it.

Harry said in a text message “I just don’t feel nice. That’s it. Besides my bf doesn’t want me to befriend any gay friends.”

We had plan to have a eat in lunch at my place and I will be cooking. I know that Harry likes carbonara, and I had bought everything.

I guess, sometimes we could not understand how a human being would thing. Perhaps we should not try to predict the future too much, because everything that you do now, always and will influence the outcome in the future.

Just like me and Harry, just because both of us were horny at that time, we fucked.

The consequences is that I have lost a great buddy, a good friend. If I was given the choice to take back what I have done, I would have done so.

I do not know Harry that well for that long period of time. The truth is, I like Harry a lot, not sexually, but personally as a friend, and a good buddy.

I guess, this teaches us a lesson, to always keep our dick in our pants.

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I could not sleep. Insomnia has got the best of me. That’s not just it, flashback of our moments with the boy hit me hard again, till I almost kneel down to my knees begging it to stop.

I want to cry it out, loud if I could, but I can’t. Streak of tears just kept on falling because it knows I miss the boy very much.

The more I look at my Facebook, the more unhappy I become. I don’t look at Facebook much nowadays because it kept on reminding me of the fear that I have.

Just this afternoon while I was munching on the green apples that I have cut, I saw a profile adding the boy to his Facebook.

Is this the guy that everyone is talking about? Is this the person that people has been telling me that is fucking with my ex boy friend, my boy? Is this the person that took over my ‘duty’ satisfying the boy? Can he?

Questions and questions starting to appear in my mind.

I am not sure if I can get over it, I mean it has been so darn long that the boy has not contacted me. I on the other hand do not want to disturb him because the boy told me he do not want to hear from me. Perhaps, the boy misses me, perhaps not.

I check on the boy’s blog everyday. Hoping that he would update his blog. It has been vacant since last year, my hope of getting to know the boy’s well being just shattered like that, with barrier after barrier blocking my progress.

I sometimes do wonder, if the boy actually still thinks of me. He did say that he wants to cut off all contacts because he wants to move on. He could not without thinking about me. I was somehow flattered, but thinking it to myself, isn’t it better if we had not choose to breakup?

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David is a shy but daring boy. He loves getting loved, and loves loitering in shopping complex. He called me and asked if I was free to bring him around.

We wanted to get ourself to Pavilion, but did not quite make it thanks to the glooming rain, and the forever havoc traffic. It was almost impossible to get to Pavilion.

We took a big U-turn and tried to head our way back to Pavilion. Instead, I took the wrong turn, and ended up on Federal Highway. With no choice to be made, we head over to Ikea for that lunch that both of us were craving for.

I took the Ikea meatballs, one of my all time favorite dish in Ikea Cafe.

David ordered the Chicken dish, I forgot to take picture of that so I post a Salmon dish that I had with the boy last time. HEHEH.

We both endulged ourself with Daim Cake, and the new Cheese Cake. It has been quite some time that I have not been to Ikea for food. I guess, ever since I have broke up with the boy, and the place brings back the memories.

David wanted to try out some pants. We walked over to The Curve to check out what they have to offer. I must admit, that looking for a pair of short pants is really hard for the waist size of 28!

Giving up, we just walked around, people watching as David put it. The crowd was still okay, with the weekend street bazaar.

Time flies when you are with someone that you really like. It was almost midnight when I sent David back. I guess, we were both tired, but it was a really good outing together. We seems to have found the part where we could understand each other, although I would still prefer to have a English speaking boy friend.

I guess, sometimes one cannot be so picky, no?

Oh, while we were having our lunch, I thought I saw someone familiar. So I dialed his number, and he did not answer. I thought I saw the wrong person. He called back instead. Hello there Medie007. Dating huh ?

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It worked up pretty okay at first. I went over to Harry’s place to pick his sleepy ass up, then went over to David’s to pick him up. We wanted to head over to my place because it was a little too early to do the shopping that Harry wanted to do. Everything seems to be in place, Harry and David both in my room. Harry messaged me on MSN (we were just sitting side by side). He would not want David to know what is going on. David is smart, I guess. He was curious that why we were both talking on MSN instead. I guess, his defensive mode came on.

I told Harry on MSN that I would get out of my room for him to get closer with David.

Which Harry did.

I guess David had suspected something amiss. Not only did he not falling for the bait, he turn on his defensive mode.

Our plan seems to fail. I wasn’t ready to give up yet. I started to hug Harry, kissing him. Harry wasn’t too comfortable because was just beside us. I continue kissing and playing with Harry, partially because miss Harry, and partially I wanted David to join the fun.

Then, Harry gave up, David wasn’t going to get the hard on, despite our flirting effort, the bundle of porn, and the dirty talks.

Harry sent David off. It was our time now. I started kissing Harry, Harry kissed back. He seems to love the teasing of tongue on his nipple. I moved down further to work on his already hard cock.

I continue with my finger down to his love channel, smearing it with enough lubricant and ensure that it wasn’t too wet.

I sucked Harry good, he was moaning. I wasn’t sure if Harry purposely does so to arouse David who is outside of the room, but I did open the door so that some sexy moaning noise could be leaked out.

I turned Harry over, he wasn’t sure to letting me fuck. I tried convincing him that I would go slowly.

We both loved the companionship. Harry seems to be a bit regretful of what had happen, but I guess that is what happen when friends have sex, some people just could not get over it!

I miss Harry .. gosh!

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Yes, maybe I do not know how to put things in words. Maybe I am just confused of the certain feelings that I have right now, maybe it was just nothing.

His voice still echoes deep inside. I could still hear him saying things to me. Was it just my imagination, or just merely because I missed him so much?

It has been almost a year that we both break up officially. It was also the time where the boy had hitched a ride and went home with someone. It was the time when I heard news about the boy not going back home, and I cried and cried because I had missed him so damn much.

I do not know why, but my feelings in such way is only the first time towards the boy. I had no problem letting my other boy friends go, no matter how much we claimed to be in love with each other. I sometimes wasn’t sure if it was the companionship that me and the boy both had, or it was the sex that was so great.

Listening to the songs in my iPhone do not make things much more easier for me. When my song list goes to the song “Shake It” by Metrostation, I think about how I make fun of the song. When my song list goes to “Sorry, Blame it on me” by Akon, I think about how the boy had talked about the meaning of the song, about the story behind it. I listen to Britney and I will think about how I used to whine when he put on Britney.

They say, time will heal albeit slowly. Really?

I still see my wounds, fresh and wet. Tears? They have not abandoned me, still visits me all the time.

The boy had not contacted me for almost three months now. The last time I tried to talk to him was when I called him to wish him a happy birthday.

I had no other means of contacting him beside the phone call. I could however just stop by his place and gave him a surprise visit, but I do not really want to freak him out.

A friend once asked me.

“Do you think you still can be as how it used to be, if the boy had come back to you again?”

I guess, things would not be the same anymore. We as human beings, are not that forgiving as we want us to be ourselves. It isn’t too hard to apologize, it isn’t that hard to say that I am sorry. How easy for it for someone to forgive, and hopefully to forget?

If you loved someone and you break up, where does the love go?

How can we transform a once passionate love, into something that fits nice and easily onto the friendship shelf? I wonder, instead of pretending each other doesn’t exist, can’t we be friends or something ?

I really hope someday, very soon, that we can all meet for a drink and be great friends; just like in the movies.

Memories. Light the corners of my mind. Misty water-colored memories. Of the way we were. Can it be, can it be that it was all so simple then? Or has time re-written every line? If we had the chance to do it all again. Tell me. Would we? Could we?

I would have not hurt you deliberately, will you forgive me, L?

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I love cold countries, perhaps that is why I have decided to stop by Alaska during my 5 months long holiday adventure.

From day one when I arrived at Alaska, I enjoyed it all the way until the end of the trip. Dad was nice to have booked a snow sledge with huskies pulling it. The huskies are so beautiful, their eyes are glowing in the hue of blues. For a moment there, I forgot the reason why I have left Malaysia for such a long period, and went for a holiday.

The adventure did not stop there.

I had arranged for a porter to climb with me to one of the glaciers. It is not that I am lazy and living that luxurious life that I would want people to carry my bags for me, but if you were in the glaciers, you really have to be prepared. In fact, I think that I had not bring enough food!

The porter that I had hired was not available last minute when I wanted him. He sent his younger brother instead. I was a little skeptical when the porter came to speak to me. I can’t see his face properly, he was was covered up and only exposing the bright blue eyes of his. He sounds like someone whose age not older than me by a decade. How much experience could a young porter like him has? I was skeptical, indeed.

I pack up a few gears, totally forgot that I would be hiking on ice and show. I naively packed my non-water proved warm weather shoes. After I took the picture, only I realized that it would not work. I switched a pair with sole covers, and water proved pants too.

Armed with a pair of water proof shoes, couple with the shoe spikes, I was ready to walk the icy mountains. Not before I arm the shoes with the spikes to enable us to walk on ice.

While the porter were preparing his gears, I noticed his shoes were covered with screws. I guess, it was great for tractions.

Back to the porter.

I did not realized that he is about the same age as me, not before he started to talk to me. He sounded young, like very young.

It was during one of the pit stop that we had on our rest that he took off the scarfs that was hiding his face. Revealing underneath the scarfs was a pair of shinny blue eyes, and a flawless complexion. Immediately I felt that I have known him for the longest time. His name is Michael.

We rested and build our tent at base camp. It was already noon and it would be suicidal if we continue our journey as there will be no spots for us to build our tent before the night falls.

There wasn’t many group of people at base camp. We build our tent almost by the edge of the spot where we had more privacy than the ‘hot spots’.

The night was extremely cold. It was so cold that I had to put on extra jacket. Middle of the night, Michael turned over and hugged me. I hugged back, and I could feel his body warmth compliment with mine. His breath was blowing towards my face. Under the dim moon light that managed to penetrate over the tent, I could see his moist lips, waiting for me to kiss it. We slept throughout the night without any incident.

It was 5 am. I woke up with my hand on the boy’s crotch. I did not know how it got there, but we were sleeping in the same sleeping bag. I or he must have snuggle in for the warmth.

My watch said it was 6am, but I always manage to mess up my alarm clock. I freaked out because I really thought it was 6 am, checked the other clock, and it says 5 am.

Went out to wash up. Michael had already got up, making coffee and getting ready for the hike.

It was still dark. The snow is 5000 feet right now, in case you are curious.

The base camp seems to came alive again. People are starting to get ready and getting to get to the top.

We pack up and got ready ourself. I helped Michael to break camp, and we started the hike up. We took a different route where Michael claimed that it is more scenic than the others. He did say it was more tougher, which I agree that we can try.

As we walk on the ice and snow, I still can see the stars twinkling high above. It was clear sky, even before the sun peeked through the mountains. We reached one of the scenic spot where I got this picture. It was fantastic, just me and Michael, alone and surrounded by nature.

Throughout the week, me and Michael shared a lot of our life stories. I found out that Michael just broke up with his boy friend, and that I looked a little like him. I told him about mine, and we instantly became good buddies. He would also story about horny Americans asking him to jerk off for them and such, of course, the innocent Michael did not do it. He did hinted to me that he would not mind jerking me off.

One of the nights, where the weather was a little warmer than usual, we strip off our pants, in the tent, and both of us had the best orgasm ever.

Nuff said, here are some pictures.

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I could feel my heartbeat taking me down
And for the moment, I would sleep alright
Invading with a selfish fear
To keep me up another restless night
Another restless night

The blood was dry, it was sober
The feeling of audible cracks
And I could tell it was over
From the curtains that hung from your neck

And I realized that then you were perfect
And my teeth ripping out of my head
And it looked like a painting I once knew
Back when my thoughts weren’t entirely intact

To pray for what I thought were angels
Ended up being ambulances
And the Lord showed me dreams of my daughter
She was crying inside your stomach

And I felt love again

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Skating rink, I love them, I hate them.

It was one of those days when I was at Pyramid Ice. I captured this picture with my iPhone, and thought the guy was pretty good looking.

I don’t know, but I have been always in the liking for someone that is younger than me. My friends say that I like them you, I guess.

I had always loved the skating rink. It was my second time on the rink, I think. It looked so easy when you see people young and old gliding on the ice gracefully. My first time, it was slippery, nevermind that. The grooves that those people make on the ice, felt right to my legs. Why can’t people build softer skating shoes? Perhaps that way, I don’t feel the grooves on the ice?

It was a weird feeling, a feeling that I did not remember from my first time skating at Pyramid Ice.

I still remember the first time, after so many times of persuading that the boy need to do, that I went over to the rink, with him and another friend. The boy gave the excuse that we can finally hold hands in public, which is a very much given excuse, ever since my fondness of public display of affection.

After that much persuasion I finally gave in, and with another friend, we went to the skating rink.

The stinky shoes, the chill from the ice, the soggy gloves.

I finally did it. I was on the ice. The boy hold me by my hand, slowly dragging me. I tried to slide on the ice myself, and to no avail, I felt like my world been shaking too much, I can’t stand still on my feet.

There it was, the fall. Right smack center of that 2 butt cheeks. I felt the ice cracking until the skin of my pants, I really did.

I sat there on the ice, unspoken. Still traumatized from the fall. The fear that I feared the most.

It was those feeling where you wanted to shout out loud, but there’s something that is blocking your vocal cords. It was the same feeling that I had last time, when I fell down from the bicycle on the way to school.

I do admire people that can skate very well. I admire that they do not have the phobia of falling down like I did. I know damn well that, without this falling sensation, I too can be very good at it. I love the carefree movements, I love the speed and I love the sensation of wind rubbing against the hair.

Of course, the boy picked me up after that. He was worried. He kept on asking me if I was alright, but I can’t answer him. Just kept on nodding to him, and he then took me the the bench.

He hold me tight, worried about what had happened. I can see it from his eyes that he had regret dragging me to the skating rink despite my protest. I wish I could tell him it was alright, and that I do not blame him.

We hugged, for once at the bench at the skating rink compound, in the public eyes, we hugged.

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I used to buy a lot of condoms.

No, I do not use them. Well, maybe once or twice, but very seldom.

Condoms to me are never a mix. I dislike the smell, I dislike the ‘action’ of having to take off the condom after a good fuck. Most people would want to just rest after a good 3 hours of bedding session, I would appreciate that too.

Of late, I have been watching way too many series that somewhat has the element of HIV/AIDS. It all started when I was going through the HIV test with the boy. My results was okay, but the counseling was the one that killed me that day.

I am wondering, why the sudden surge of HIV related lines or scripts in the movies nowadays. Perhaps it was the choice of series that I am watching? For Queer As Folk, I could understand, it is a homosexual related drama series; Having HIV/AIDS lines in the script is pretty normal (and it still freaks me out). Nip/Tuck on the other hand, shows more on plastic surgery, the boobs and the occasionally gay acts. Perhaps that is how HIV/AIDS come in view, because of the generous sex scenes?

Speaking of which, I think I am going to be addicted to plastic surgery.

Damn I hate these series sometimes.

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I have been out of the country for a very long time, that I have lost count already. My passport has been abused and harassed numerous times, that I think that abuse might turn into an enjoyment. One do wonder, do the custom’s officers enjoyed spanking the on the visitor’s passports when they embark into the country.

Here I am, in Wellington, New Zealand. I must say, I have met a lot of people from all over the world, From Argentina, to Brazil right up to New Zealand.

I could say that I can’t wait to get back to Malaysia, back to my not so closet self, back to all the hypocritical people, back to all that political bullshits. Yes, I have been following the Perak by-elections, and I can tell you, I think these idiots should just do the world a favor, and bury themselves. The news on The Star’s news site tickled my funny bone. Now, I know it is a strong fashion statement, but do we really get fined for wearing a skirt nowadays? Zang Toi should not be allowed to have outlets in Malaysia, then, if they are going to fine for RM20. What was that for? A fashion statement? Or a show of power? Perhaps, in better words, a show of stupidity and being a closed minded government?

Just when I bought a pair of Jimmy Choo’s 5 inch heels that I thought would be a fucking good fashion statement. Now I am not too sure if I should be walking down to Pavilion, with a pair of heels that the female species are so dying for. Yes, I wore heels.

On a not too recent studies, Mr Yik Koon Teh in a paper wrote that transexuals cannot be explained by social factors. While we all understand that the Muslims enforced the prohibition of transgenders, but why are the rulings enforced to those, who are not Muslims?

In school, we were brain washed by the Malaysian education system that Malaysia is a multiracial country, and that Islam, is the official religion. I believe many still have that in their school books. Alas, ‘leaders’ these days tells us, Malaysia is a Muslim country, and that we, as a Malaysian, should follow what Muslim countries do.

Perhaps that is the main reason why I wanted to leave Malaysia so badly. Not that I feel that the other countries would be better, but a more rather, ‘not so much bullshit’.

I am tired, staring at my Macbook Pro isn’t going to get me sleepy at all. I should rest, a lot if stuffs waiting for me in the morning.

Oh, I do think that Malaysia is the the most closet case of all in terms of sexuality. Come out from the closet already, will you?

Reference: International Journal of Transgenderism (PDF)

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