Portrait of an Artist as a Faceless Man

I cracked the eggs and they trickled inside rubber.

Dear Faceless Painter,

For months we talked and have gotten to know each other well, though I never found out what you looked like and so, inspired by your profession as an artist, I had to use my creativity and think outside the box.  I had always imagined you to be this quiet, masculine artist who would spend hours a day finishing his masterpieces that sell for thousands of bucks.  You would probably be skinny, with a ponytail and lots of tattoos on your body; maybe a pierced lip or a nose ring aside from the ones you already have on your auricles.  You would be the type who smokes and drinks beer and occasionally sinks into depression, in order to pull out your personal greatest artistic achievements.  The stereotypical tormented artist.  Also, you appeared to me to be this deeply religious, guilt-filled person who, at age 29, remains firm in his belief that he is heterosexual. 

You told me you were "handsome on the inside" so I thought you were joking.  For the sake of entertaining that idea, I had imagined the night before we met, the people i would say, closely resemble the word "unattractive".  It would be untruthful for me to NOT say that you have exceeded my expectations the moment I saw you walk in through the door.  However, since I am a man of my word (and I do believe this was fate telling me to stop being stupid), I had no choice but to watch you walk in.  In slow motion.  

So dear Faceless Painter, I am telling you and the universe that this is the last time I will submit myself into such a deplorably flawed and hormonally-influenced decision-making process when it comes to dating.

All that put aside, you are a decent fellow.  You paid your fair share and you even treated me to breakfast (which you decided to cut short to maximize the remaining time).  I apologize for the spicy Korean food we ate for dinner, but I hope I more than made up for it afterwards with my "harlem shake".

I did enjoy you (in the dark).  You were eager to please and that somehow helped soothe the pain.  For someone with no prior experience with both sexes, I would say you've done far better than your predecessors.  In fact, one of the things you did was a first for me too!  What can I say?  That scolding I did had taught you well and you unwittingly made me your first practice dummy.  I'm sure your future wife would be satisfied with you.

But I honestly worry if you'd ever have a wife.  You are more on the softer side of masculinity and I think you enjoyed it too much, what we did.  I enjoyed it too, but of course I would've loved it more if it weren't you I shared a twin bed with.  As harsh as that sounds, I plan to write about such an encounter in a future post when I can prove to myself that my learning curve shall have improved for the better.

For now, I sincerely apologize if we left an hour short of your expectations.  The truth is, I couldn't bear the thought of you defacing me again with your slobbery kisses.  Or the thought that you borrowed my comb and then harmlessly mention having a dandruff problem.  (Thank god for detachable, foldable combs!)  

The truth is, I just couldn't bear the sight of you wearing your headband.  While we ate.  In public.  

Dear Faceless Painter, you have the potential to be a great lover, but I leave it to other people to, umm, tap that potential.

I wish you the best of both worlds, like I wish this regret to wash off my freakin' scalp.

Crane-bow

Crane-bow:  The pot of gold needs a lift.

Lately I noticed I've been avoiding meeting up with people.  It's strange but it's as if I felt more confident about myself when I was several pounds heavier than I am now.  I still feel fat even if I know I shouldn't.  I guess it's because the past few people I've met up with weren't satisfactory, which subsequently made me feel I need to be pickier somehow.

Aside from my phone apps, I have 2 separate accounts online via the same website, and it's remarkable how even if both profiles are online, people don't notice it's the same person!  Of course I don't use the same photos, but still!

Anyway, I think I might have become a little too picky lately.  I text a handful of people, the typical hi's and hello's and what's up's ... among those, I met up with this guy who I'd been texting with for a while and he kinda caught me during vulnerable, needy moments.  He's a fine arts graduate from Diliman, mid 20's, and teaches at PLM.  He's been with his partner for 2 years and is thinking of breaking it off.  He had so many issues and had been so indecisive.

So one night we met up at MiniStop at P. Noval where we talked, mostly about what friends talk about.  The first thing he told me was that I don't look my age, and he was already under the false impression that I was 25 years old.  Of course I was flattered and wanted to jump his bones right away, not minding that he had buck teeth, was very skinny, and dressed like a true UP student -- faded jeans, black chino top, and slippers.  I wanted to jump his bones because I wanted to get this long and winding foreplay over and done with.  I mean come on!  It's been more than 2 weeks of playing cat and mouse.  If he wanted to have an extra-marital affair, I was already serving a platter of side salad.  But alas, he was indecisive.  And so after that night, I already knew nothing would cum out of it.

Moving forward, I'm beginning to notice the valentine's fever slowly creeping in with most of the people I communicate with.  Around 3 or 4 seem to be looking for serious relationships despite the fact that I don't post those on my profile and I tell them upfront that I am not looking for anything serious yet.  But I play along anyway.  I don't text sweet nothings, mind you.  I would never intentionally lead people on, but I guess my crime is that I entertain their attention.

All I can say is, life will be so much easier once I have my own place.  It's not right to waste these blessings.