The world was not created just for you Edmundo - the Pinoy Gay Wanderer - I remember you now as I listen to seventies' music, not because you are a seventies' child - you're probably not even born  when Earth Wind & Fire were singing their hearts out. After you left two months ago, I promised myself to write something about you, I, the last of the Gay Mohicans. Only now did I find the time.

You call me  your Lola, huh, baby you ain't seen this Mamma when she was at the peak of her carreer! I know you can't imagine how I turned into this computer geek at an age when I should be picking plants at Home Depot. Or talking to a parrot named Chucha. But honey, I :wqam really bored with the things the gay youths are doing today - picking up tricks everywhere, not really knowing where the dick in their mouths came from. I saw the days when the dick taken was washed and perfumed and its acquisition involved  a wide-range of hunting and challenge and tears and longing and prowling, then afterwards it stood like a price, a trophy for such a hard-yet soooooo satisfying quest. But you won't know that Edmundo. It's so easy nowadays to pick a trick, just go to Sears or Publix or to be special, the gym. The challenge is gone honey.

I am not pretending to be heroic but yes, between a computer and a dick, my choice is the first - I don't know why. The challenge is what matters to me. I think the more challenging a task is, the better. And sucking a dick ain't it.

I have turned into a Lola, I know, like Tandang Sora. Bought a condo that became a refuge for Pinoy gays like you Edmundo, like Kikokuki. I am suddenly the friend of anyone left alone in the world. Who becomes jobless. Who becomes penniless. I open my door and give a copy of my keys - and I don't care anymore if you stay for a month or a year, so long as you don't bother me when I am working on my computer. People tell me to stop having guests - you  know how Americans can be so paranoid - but what can be stolen from me? I've got computers assembled by myself not really worth anything, they look so ugly. The only thing that can be stolen from me is my pussy which by now is either fake or made of plastic. And Edmundo you won't like it. I hate to say it when all you guys prefer white dicks. Heh!

I asked you that question because I got tired of your restlessness - now you want to stay for good in Fort Lauderdale now you don't. Then, you've reached a point of hatred - extreme hatred at this city. So angry were you at this city you'd grab a job in Timbuktu anytime.  You found a lover here but I could not approve of him - he may be Italian but honey - not all Italian-Americans are good looking and good. You wanted me to admire you for what you call "your attractiveness to Americans" but I never found anyone, except this one, falling for you. And as maternal as I am, I kept pounding you on working, finding some form of happiness in other areas - like arts and learning and perhaps joining a more quality gay - crowd.

And then one day you confessed to me what happened not long ago -

You whisper : "I fell in love and lived with my Pinoy lover for the longest time. Four years. He even helped me get a job in America. Four years, Alex, four years I thought we'd be together for the rest of our lives. We've loved each others since we were students. I even stayed in his house in Novaliches. No one knew of our secret realtionship. Then it happened. First he deferred joining me in our usual trips. Then one night he did not go home.  And then, many more nights of not going home followed.  You can't imagine how painful it was, how painful it was to start doubting your lover. I lost weight because I thought it had something to do with my looks. I went to gym. I did everything to save our relationship. But he moved with his American lover. No warning. No admissions. No confessions. I simply came home with all his stuff gone. My grief did not leave me for a long long time. I am still mourning.

"So please, don't lecture me about my restlessness and wanderings, it is easy for me to hate people and places. And I hate you for being so confined, using your computer as an excuse for your social inadequacy. You keep preaching I need a life when it's you who need it. I thought Fort Lauderdale would give me better gay life. I need to leave. I must leave. I must find a lover."

Then one day you just left Edmundo. And I don't know how to convey my admiration and my hope for your success. Yes,  you must follow where your heart leads you. You've been hurt more than me. But you see, I can't just be like you - you don't have a family back home who depend on you. Whereas I, I can't afford to spend time for a lover.  I need to work and study to keep working. The only happiness I seek now is to be told one day that I don't need to work anymore. That my family is self sufficient. No Philippine  bills to worry. No Philippine tuitions to worry. No Philippine monthly remittance to worry.  But in the meantime, while our country tries to stand up on her feet, I will keep working on this computer writing, writing about you, me, our country, our people. It's not really that bad. I am tired but not lonely. Good luck to both of us!
Alex Maskara - Gay Imaginings...