baguio: the first timer

how do you looked at something for the first time?

my best friend and i have been wanting to enter that establishment ever since college. (un)fortunately, it was only just recently when i had the chance to go there. but with a different set of friends. up to now, my best friend is still not talking to me.

the place was dark as expected. there were annoying blinking lights, cheap backdrop design of what seemed to be blazing flames and a dancer wearing a black sleeveless top, skimpy maong pants and knee length boots that definitely came from ukay-ukay.

the dancer has the body and moves like your typical dancer in those movies that call themselves as indie films. and it seemed like body gliding, swinging (or more like jerking), and head-touching-the-ground dances were the standard moves for this so-called titilating interpretative dance.

source

until finally, when the remaining table infront of the stage, occupied by two middle age audience began clapping and cheering, everyone in our table, except me, knew that it was already the start of the "happy hour". the light turned dimmer and began blinking violently, to a point, where your eyes would just hurt bvy mere staring at the dancer. then suddenly, the dancer pulled something out of those tattered jeans.

and yes, i know what it was. but surprisingly, knowing what it was didn't trigger what suppose to be an expected response from me. perhaps, this is my reaction towards something, i keep on looking forward, for the first time.

nothing.

for its actually the things playing inside my head that creates those expectations, i crave to experience. nonetheless, it doesn't always equates to reality. its interesting how we live by our and other people's expectations, allowing ourselves to get trap into it, just to get frustrated in the end.

i remember when i slept with someone i was really attracted to before. there was not a single time, i didn't fantasize for the day we share the same bed. but when that day came, in my surprise, no matter what we do or how often we do it, the sum of those acts didn't meet even a fraction of the sensation i was expecting. the ending, i caught myself saying, "M was always good when i am masturbating."

perhaps, its really up to us. whether we opt in forming expectations and work it out; or not expect at all.

and did i say we were raid that night?