yes...until cursed MyFilebucket.com fix itself up and bring back my pictures. well, actually i hav copies of the pix from my PC, and i could have just uploaded the pix to a new image hosting site, but my floppy disk drive is hopeless (and by the way...i've already replaced it with a healthy, tested floppy disk drive. and it's not the fault of my diskettes nor the cables either. i suspect it's the motherboard itself. curses...x_x)

so...for the meantime...livejournal muna tayo:

http://www.livejournal.com/~iam_datu

Zy just gave me last night through YM this picture of Paul from their prom last Saturday. I couldn't bear to upload the pic last night, partly because there was no photo editing software in the PC I was using at the cafe and the original picture was sized at a whopping 2048 x 1536 pixels at 338 KB, which means unless you guys have automatic picture resizing thing on your browsers and have DSL connection it would be a pain to download and view it, not to mention upload it from this damn UP network cafe, and partly because the picture rendered me paralyzed.

Ok, I have LOTS of Paul pictures, and this one should have just been another addition to my notorious collection. But that's it! To say that I was shocked when I saw this picture would be an emotionless understatement. To say that I was knocked out dead at the spot, stripped-off my clothes, and got shagged upon and deflowered by it would be a closer description, but it's still inappropriate and it's much too unwholesome besides. But literally, I was breathless. I was shaking, and was violently shouting (at least at the YM window...miracle of all miracles, I was still able to repress myself from actually shouting at the cafe). And for the first time in my whole life, I couldn't bear look at his picture longer than a glimpse. It would be suicide if I did.

And a blissful suicide at that...

So there, now the night has finally passed and the emotions pacified, I now present to you the culprit of my ecstasy, the file I aptly named. But before that, I present to you a glimpse of the pics I already have of him before. This should intensify the shock you're about to get in a little while.

Here goes...

This is Paul Mayuyu, 1st Year, going to his Comp. Sci. class. (candid)-->link

This is Paul's 2nd Year ID picture. (stolen, scanned, and returned)-->link

This is Paul Mayuyu, Paskorus 2002. (posed as one of the many photographers in the event...)-->link

This is Paul Mayuyu, still 2nd Year. He's smiling by the way, not because his picture's being taken, but because he's talking to someone. (scammed, together with Daisy Yeo and Migs Tolibas)-->link

This is Paul Mayuyu, a year ago, JS Prom. (courtesy of Poch Hernandez)-->link

And of course, there is Paul's picture from the Batch '08 Stargazing two Saturdays ago, which I already posted at the previous entry.

Ok...are you ready? Are you absolutely sure you're ready? Are you brave enough? Can you really take it?!...Ok fine,  I won't keep this off further, SO STOP STRANGLING ME!!!

To those of you who are still wondering...

This is Paul Mayuyu. *blush*.

(picture courtesy of Zyrone Zuñiga and '05 girl. )

Monday, 17 January 2004

6:06 AM

Now I wonder why the "Cold War" was really called such. Apparently, for some reason contradicting human logic, the KGB has identified me as a threat to Russian security, and are now sending waves of Siberian wind to execute me. Like the only threat I could think of doing is to wear a traditional Russian dress and set-out to destroy all matryoshka dolls in existence, kidnap cute Russian boys, and have my autograph signed by t.A.t.U. And it's not that I would be a potential secret service CIA agent. In fact, I would rather be an Abu Sayyaf terrorist, kidnap as many cute boys as possible, and ask for ransom high enough to pay for a sex-change operation.

Speaking of sex-change operation, Lola Hender's latest blog entry was about just that. She even wrote there how she reported Sex-Rearrangement Surgery (SRS) as the "Greatest Discovery/Invention of the 20th Century" during her Soc. Sci. class in her fourth year in Pisay (which would mean it's Econ, and the teacher, given Hender's description, could have been Sir Vlad, though it may be someone else who has already left by the time our batch reached fourth year). She relates how wondeful she has transformed from "a skinhead athletic brute to a sexy curvy sultry", and is now considering the last step towards neowomanhood. Goodluck, Ate! I support you all the way!

Now, not that I would actually undergo SRS myself, though I wish I could. What hinders me, aside from the cost and the pain associated with surgery and hospitalization, are my relatives and my faith. Believe it or not, my parents back at the province still don't know that I'm gay and am crossdressing. I would be disowned first (if not killed by extremist relatives) before I could done a nightgown in front of them.

As for my faith, it's a different matter, and I would rather keep it to myself for the meantime. Suffice to say, despite my gayness, I still believe there is only One God, and His final message for mankind was revealed in Arabic through His Last Messenger, who lived, preached, and died in what is now Saudi Arabia. I pray, and I'll always will. I will always be His servant, and will always be subject to His Divine Will, He who is Most Gracious, Most Merciful.

Now, off to blow-up the EEE building...well, after my Math class.

Tuesday, 18 January 2005

7:31 PM

Ok, here I am again, with too many things to tell but too fatigued to write them. I knew I should have written my entry this morning, have it not been for that cursed EEE 23 homework that I have to finish since I have to pass it today. And yes, it's about A.D. (who, from now on, I'll refer to as "Kuya", since I can no longer mention his name without...err...).

*checks cellphone*

Ok...Kitty just txted:

"Ei datu. C kit to. My f0ne was st0len, 2geder wid d sim. Im bak wid old number. Anyway r u g0ing onlyn 2nyt? Pls change my frndstr paswrd to (this part deleted, of course). Tnx"

Oh my, Sister! I wish to ask how her fone was stolen, and what she means by "f0ne", if it was her Globe phone or the Sun one, but I couldn't reply back because my cursed phone "restarts" every time I write my message. Luckily, my tita's coming home from abroad this Wednesday, and will hopefully give me the cellphone my mother requested her to buy for me since I've told my mother a long ago how my cellphone, a dilapidating Motorola V100 with the keys for letters A, S, and E already peeled-off and can only be accessed by pushing the metal base it left away with a metal key, is doomed to bust. But for now, I'll go to an internet cafe and text Kitty through Chikka instead, and being online might as well do her request and search for an mp3 of Sweet Soul Revue by Pizzicato 5.

I'll tell about Kuya later. He probably has a new entry at his blogsite. I hope he's fine.

Wednesday, 19 January 2005

5:36 PM

I just finished my Afternoon prayer a few minutes ago, and a few minutes from now I would do my Evening prayer. It's happy to realize the true wonders of physically praying five times a day, especially in times of mental and emotional crises such as what I'm going through right now. And then it makes me wonder why too I often get tempted NOT to pray.

Let me explain this. In our religion, there are two kinds of prayer--the Supplication, and the Ritual prayer. The Supplication, the kind of prayer that most people know of, can be done anytime, which is simply done by calling God and telling everything you want to tell Him. The Ritual Prayer on the other hand is done with a set of proper steps and guidelines, including bowing to the ground which most people know and associate with our religion. We are obliged to do at least five of this everyday, and since it is physical and strictly routined its no wonder why some people get lazy doing it, even though this is one of the Five Pillars of our religion (the other four being fasting at the Holy Month, going on a pilgrimage to the Holy City at least once in a lifetime, paying a yearly due for the poor, and above all believing there is only One God, and believing His Messenger IS his messenger). Which I think is also why I easily get tempted not to do it too.

But then again, I could put the same situation to writing. Often I get lazy writing because it's physical (yes, my dear readers...I see writing as PHYSICAL--moving the pen with my hand writing many lines of words poses a physical challenge for me, so that I would want to propose Writing to be a course for PE 2. That goes too for typing.). But then I know the rewards I'll reap if I'm able to get over that and actually get to write something.

So...GO AWAY, SATAN! Let me have my share of Divine Intervention!...

**Datu prays the Evening prayer, while Samantha prounces and giggles around the room, disturbingly felicitous.**

Thursday, 20 January 2005

8:21 PM

This is what should have been my entry for 15 January 2005, which I never got to finish anyway (see 16 January 2005 entry). But I still would want to share this to you. I ask you, dear readers, to read it. There are things you should know about me.

You know...ang hirap talagang magdalaga. Well, feeling kong nagdadalaga ako. There's this common notion of hormone pill taking as the "Second Puberty". Nagkaka-boobs na ako, believe it or not. Maliit pa naman, pero meron na. The girls out there must know, yung nagsisimula pa kayong magkaboobs. I asked Mariah, and she said ganun raw talaga, yung parang may maliit nang tumbok. According to my research, mga two years pa raw bago mag-fully form ang breasts ng isang transexual na naghohormones. At sila'y 35+ na ang mga age. Mas mabilis pa raw ang development rate ng mga mas batang nagsimulang nag-take. I'm 18 years old. But it's strange though, because supposedly the age of 18 is the mark of a girl's entry to womanhood. At 18 years old, babae na ang isang dalaga. As for me, na kadedebut pa lang, ngayon pa ako nagsisimulang magdalaga. It still makes sense though, diba?

At syempre, kasabay ng isang taong nagbibinata o nagdadalaga ay ang samu't saring mga mental at emotional changes na kanyang nararanasan. Feel ko, ito rin ang nangyayari sa akin ngayon. I'm in college now, pero parang nagbabalik-highschool ang aking mentality. Kaya siguro naging masalimuot ang takbo ng buhay ko kamakailan lang. Para akong isang dalaga na una pa lamang nakaramdam ng isang napakagandang damdamin sa kanyang buhay, na sa wala nang iba pang malamang itawag rito'y itinawag na lamang itong Pag-Ibig. Iyon nga lang, imbes na kinikilala ko pa lamang ito ngayon, kinikilala ko na lamang itong muli.

Gusto kong kausapin si Kitty ngayon. Feel ko lang, matatahimik lang ako kapag narinig ko na ang mga "Words of Wisdom" ni Sister. Hindi ko naman kasi pwedeng pagkwentuhan 'tong sina Samantha at Marphil. Wala naman kasi akong mapapala sa kanila kung sila ang pagkwekwentuhan ko, lalo na kung may kinalaman 'to sa pag-ibig. At mas lalo na kung may kinalaman 'to sa isang batchmate, na kilalang-kilala pa man din nila. Aasarin at pagkakatuwaan lang nila ako. Para sa kanila, ako si Datu, ang Mahalay na Bakla, at wala nang iba. Well...kasalanan ko naman din e. I've been having fun hugging Marphil lately, at nagpapakahalay nga ako sa harap nila. Pero ok, hindi lang talaga sila ang tipong mapagkukuwentuhan ko ng nararamdaman ko ngayon. I need Sister Kitty. She'll most understand.

Matagal na siguro kayong nag-iisip--kung bakit parang ang landi-landi ko, kung bakit kahit may Paul na ako ay kung sinu-sino pang mga lalake ang pinapariwara ko, na kung sasabihin ko pa ang mga pangalan nila'y baka masira lamang ang itinataguyod kong seryosong takbo ng diwa sa entry ko ngayon.

Oo, aaminin ko, medyo malandi nga ako. Madalas taklesa, at kung minsa'y bastos pa. Pero hindi ibig sabihing iyon at iyon lamang ako. Most of the time, palabas ko lang iyon. Syempre bakla ako, at kailangang magpakabakla nga naman ako. Ganito na ako nung high school pa, so medyo nasanay na rin ako. At ganito na rin akong nakilala ng maraming tao. Iyon nga lang ang masama, dahil tuloy, maraming nag-aakalang ako'y isang happy-go-lucky faggot na wala nang inatupag sa buhay kundi magpakalandi at magpakahaliparot, na wala nang iniintinding problema sa buhay. Hindi na nila inisip na sa likod ng makulay na maskarang aking isinusuot ay may nakatagong mukhang natatakot rin, nahihiya rin, lumuluha rin.

Ang Pag-Ibig, sa kanyang kadalisayan at kabanalan, ay kailanma'y hindi lubos na maipapahiwatig ninuman. Ang Diyos ay Pag-Ibig, kung kaya't ang Pag-Ibig, na siyang kataas-taasang katangian ng Diyos, ay labas sa limitadong pang-uunawa ng tao. Subali't alam natin kung ano ang Pag-Ibig, sapagka't kahit hindi man natin itong lubos na maunawaa'y nadarama natin ito. Ano ngayon ang Pag-Ibig? Ang mas wastong tanong marahil ay--Ano sa atin ang Pag-Ibig? Ang Pag-Ibig ay hindi natin mabibigyan ng kahulugan, subali't ito'y ating mailalarawan.

Kapag ako'y humihiling ng kabutihan para sa isang tao sapagka't sa kaligayahan niya lamang ako makatatagpo ng aking kaligayahan--ganito ko mailalarawan ang Pag-Ibig para sa akin. At dahil dito sa paniniwala kong ito kaya't malaya akong magmahal nang kahit sinuman. Ang Pag-Ibig para sa'kin ay hindi nakatuon para sa iisang tao lamang--kaya kong magmahal ng isa o libo man. Subali't hindi ibig sabihing nahahati ang Pag-Ibig, dahil ang Pag-Ibig ay natatangi sa bawat minamahal ko. Iba ang pagmamahal ko sa aking ina sa aking ama. Iba ang pagmamahal ko sa bawat mga kaibigan ko. Iba ang pagmamahal ko sa bawat lalakeng kinakiligan ko. Walang nakahihigit ni nalalamangan. Natatangi lamang ang bawat isa.

At dahil din sa paniniwala ko ng Pag-Ibig kung kaya't nakapagmamahal ako kahit na ang minamahal ko'y hindi magmahal sa akin o may minamahal nang iba. Ito marahil ang sinasabing "Unconditional Love", subali't ayon na rin kay Kitty ay walang katotohanan rito. Kailanma'y mayroong hinihiling ang Pag-Ibig. Iisa lang naman ang aking hinihiling, at iyon ay bigyan lamang ako ng minamahal ko ng layang magmahal, lalung-lalo na sa kanya.

Monday, 24 January 2005

9:25 AM

Today I committed a grave sin.

I left my key in the room, and now I couldn't get in. Not until Dagam arrives to open the door, or unless I sum up my courage to approach security guard Drools and borrow a key, in which case I would have to endure tribulating rebukes and humiliation I'll receive from that sow. For the meantime then, I stay here at the dorm lobby with madz, who is studying at the moment.

I failed to write entries for the past three days, mostly because I was recently engrossed at reading Maya Angelou's childhood autobiography, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, which has brought me into a deeper insight on the life of this great female Black American poet. Moreso, since it's about her childhood, that very crucial stage in our lives when innocence reigned and dreams were as crisp and clear as the world that we knew, that particular moment of our lives that will inevitably lead us to we are now. I will write more on this after I finish reading the book, which I bought for only 12 pesos at Book Sale in Cubao last Christmas break.

Still no sign of goddamn Dagam (oooh...I'm playing with words...). I fear I'll be completely stuck here at the lobby until my CS 12 class at 12:30. A good thing though, since because of this I would be forced not to eat, since all my food are inside the room.n I've been eating too much since classes resumedthis year, and the effects are now starting to ravage my belly and my pocket.

Yummy Tristan just walked in the lobby. I don't know his full name, but I know he's of Batch '02.

Damn it...did I just say "yummy"? And then my "sins" for this week, and last night's dream...this can't be happening. I'm losing.

(Our great Pretty Sailor-Suited Guardian of Love and Justice, losing?! To what? What did she mean by her "sins"? What did she dream about last night? Are there more things she still hasn't told us about yet? Please stay tuned for the next episode of 'Atashi Wa, "Ai" No Senshi--SeeradAtÜ! ;p)