Jump to content
Male HQ

Nightly Ranting


Guest Midnight Owl

Recommended Posts

Guest Midnight Owl

Everytime I sit with my legs crossed, people will inevitably zoomed into my posture. Why is that so, man cannot sit with crossed legs? Besides, I am gay and more than justified my sitting posture. If woman can sit with crossed legs because they afraid people might see through their pussy, than why can't man sit with crossed legs to hide their own private area too. Oh ya, woman loves to see man with bulgy crotch when he opened his legs and fantasize on them as much as I do. But please!!! respect my privacy when I choose to sit with crossed legs because I don't like woman to see whatever they wanted to see and whereever I go. Get a life and stop looking at my me with curious eyes, bitch!!!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Men can never be able to cross legs like women because there is a package that blocks the legs from getting crossed. The bigger the bulge, the harder it is to cross the leg, I certainly can't.

People staring at you because you must hv looked like a sista instead of like a brother lor. Not because u are able to cross ur legs lah.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

I am one of those rare species in this planet with gay written all over me. At one look, people can tell I am gay. My voice disclosed my identity, my action speaks volume and I have a wonderful gaysome look. So what!!! Are you going to judge me and make you any less gay than myself? The positive side is people do not require much effort to cruise me because they don’t need to speculate whether I am straight or gay. The “signboard” is already written loud and clear to them – you are welcome to take me.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I am one of those rare species in this planet with gay written all over me. At one look, people can tell I am gay. My voice disclosed my identity, my action speaks volume and I have a wonderful gaysome look. So what!!! Are you going to judge me and make you any less gay than myself? The positive side is people do not require much effort to cruise me because they don’t need to speculate whether I am straight or gay. The “signboard” is already written loud and clear to them – you are welcome to take me.

Nah, What is there to judge. I was just stating the obvious. Some are born this way, some are born that way.

I was trying to point out that they may not be staring at u because u r able to cross ur legs. They stare at u because ur gaysome look makes u so fabulous that they can't take their eyes off you.

You must have been fantabulous! Sista.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Night Owl

I was waiting at the bus stop but it was thronged with pri school children from nearby school. As the crowds get thicker, I started to inch myself further from them. When I was about 3 meters away from my original position, I saw a short stocky boy pulling the bag of a skinny fair boy standing next to me. The fairer decent boy looked irritated but he did not retaliate because his heavy bag seemed like a burden for him to escape. The stocky boy took further advantage by pulling his sleeve this time and than tried to grab his bag away. Both little struggling boys look so funny until the stocky boy finally opened his mouth to the skinny boy: “if you don’t listen, I will show you my dick!”…and he grinned at the skinny boy who has frozen and lost reacting suddently. Than my bus came and I was late for my appointment. What happened after that nobody knows…….and I doubt there is anything a primary school boys will do to each other. I hope I am right.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Night Owl

I was inside the MRT and noticed a fat teenage Indian girl staring me. She was wearing green-colored contact lenses with very horny look covered with heavy make-up. How long she has been staring and "drooling" I do not know because I wasn't paying attention the moment I stepped into the train and my mind was away. Her "hunger" never ceased and I think my pretty owl face has attracted her. I tried my best to shift from her irritating view but her vision followed akin to black panther following her prey. Annoyed and intruded of my privacy, in the train, since my traveling journey was long, I flew pass her and hooted "stupid woman" and than disappeared from her sight. *hoot!!*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest jayy

Your rants are very entertaining, Owl. :lol:

As for sitting cross-legged, I don't see any problem with it. But for the same reasons as Gachi I am unable to sit cross-legged too.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

As usual, the train was crowded in the morning peak hour. The only different today is I have had free air blower from a Malay tattooed ah beng. The journey wasn’t pleasant because he breathed so hard and so close that it ruffled the feather on my neck. Whenever I tried to adjust my collar a little higher, he would deliberately get closer and blow harder. When the crowds started to thin at orchard MRT and him no sign of moving away and stopping what he did, I squeezed out of his grasp into another empty gap. I believe he felt his esteem being hurt by me distancing myself from his winds. After he stepped out of the train at Somerset Station, he stared back, wanting to pick a fight. His shoulder started to arch, his neck lowered, his eyes glared and his fist clenched as if werewolf was about to transform to devour this innocent owl. Sensing imminent danger, I quickly shifted my face away from his stares until the door closed between us. He stood there unmoved, filled with deadly aura and no sign of it subsiding regardless of his actions being watched by passengers stood inside the train.

After sometime, I braved the courage to look at him again and the stares became “mutual” – my two round eyes amplified by my dark eye bags (for staying up late) look much bigger than that of woman with thick mascara but bright with gaylight that can pierce the night. His was thin and dark, gleamed with anger, all muscles tightened and ready to spring. Than my usual owl spontaneous blinks have strengthened his dismay, further, to the extend that he could have picked an object and threw at the door or forced it opened just to drag me out and pluck my feathers alive, if he is lenient to do just that.

The next few minutes were torturous because the train did not move and could have re-opened the door, for adjustment, and than have me to meet my doom charging in. I knew I could not rely on those young executive women and men in ties coming to my rescue should I be minced alive under their nose. They would prefer to meet hell in office than save an unknown owl in the train, It jerked a little and my heart nearly jumped out and run away leaving its owner cold and defenseless and my legs turned soft. Seconds later, the sound of engines seem like heaven’s whispers and pulled the train away. I quickly find a sit to rest my unsettled fear and clutch to my havabag like pillow or a man’s shoulder. I wanted to cry.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest ryan seacrest

As usual, the train was crowded in the morning peak hour. The only different today is I have had free air blower from a Malay tattooed ah beng. The journey wasn’t pleasant because he breathed so hard and so close that it ruffled the feather on my neck. Whenever I tried to adjust my collar a little higher, he would deliberately get closer and blow harder. When the crowds started to thin at orchard MRT and him no sign of moving away and stopping what he did, I squeezed out of his grasp into another empty gap. I believe he felt his esteem being hurt by me distancing myself from his winds. After he stepped out of the train at Somerset Station, he stared back, wanting to pick a fight. His shoulder started to arch, his neck lowered, his eyes glared and his fist clenched as if werewolf was about to transform to devour this innocent owl. Sensing imminent danger, I quickly shifted my face away from his stares until the door closed between us. He stood there unmoved, filled with deadly aura and no sign of it subsiding regardless of his actions being watched by passengers stood inside the train.

After sometime, I braved the courage to look at him again and the stares became “mutual” – my two round eyes amplified by my dark eye bags (for staying up late) look much bigger than that of woman with thick mascara but bright with gaylight that can pierce the night. His was thin and dark, gleamed with anger, all muscles tightened and ready to spring. Than my usual owl spontaneous blinks have strengthened his dismay, further, to the extend that he could have picked an object and threw at the door or forced it opened just to drag me out and pluck my feathers alive, if he is lenient to do just that.

The next few minutes were torturous because the train did not move and could have re-opened the door, for adjustment, and than have me to meet my doom charging in. I knew I could not rely on those young executive women and men in ties coming to my rescue should I be minced alive under their nose. They would prefer to meet hell in office than save an unknown owl in the train, It jerked a little and my heart nearly jumped out and run away leaving its owner cold and defenseless and my legs turned soft. Seconds later, the sound of engines seem like heaven’s whispers and pulled the train away. I quickly find a sit to rest my unsettled fear and clutch to my havabag like pillow or a man’s shoulder. I wanted to cry.

If what you wrote is true , it was a bad way to start a day.

Just to be sure did you act to attract the wrong kinda attention, or instead you had a death wish all along.

I hate to start a day when someone elses bad behaviour ruins my day like a someone else never brushes his teeth stands next to me so close I can smell last nite digested garlic and curry smell plus B.O.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

Was at the pinkdot on Saturday with a friend who is jobless. While we were having fun at the party he related his job interview incident to me.

He travelled from his home at Yishun to Pandan Loop, on rainy day for an interview at a new startup company owned by this china firm. The MD is a HK young chap (not even a PR). Because the company is new and recruited several foreigners of chinese origin, my friend, the only Singaporean, asked quite a few questions and there was mutual exchange of thoughts and informations so that both party can understand each other past working exposures and assess the possibility of working together. At one point, the interviewer even asked when my friend can start work. End of the interveiw, my friend was hopeful and sincerely wishes the company a prosperous future ahead. At the door, the HK young chap shouted at my friend in an impolite manner "GOOD LUCK TO YOU!!!". The loud and harsh tone give my friend a "kick-in-the butt" goodbye before the door banged rudely behind and send his heart throbing. He was left standing speechless at the door and knew instantly he was not shortlisted. The feeling was inexplicably puzzling and sad. He felt he was unethically treated and wish he knew why the 360 degree turnaround from the interviewer who appeared to be smiling throughout the interview. Than he knew, this people were good in wearing mask and the feeling is terrible having to face immatured interviewer. I feel frustrated for him too.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Midnight Owl, you must be very handsome. That's why so many people are attracted to you.

Similarly, I always feel that I get a lot of attentions from people when I walk on the streets. Those stares always make me rather uneasy. Though I know I am good looking with fair skin and people have told me I am handsome. But sometimes I can't help to wonder is there a "gay" word written on my forehead that attracts so much attentions in public.

I even had been stalked by a guy from gym :)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

I like to perch on a breezy windowsill with my big luminous eyes on constant alert for “prey” – the guy next door. I am not sure whether he is gay or straight but he being single is hope and that matters a lot to me. 10 years ago we used to walk on the same path, home from work, and I deliberately walked behind him to fantasize his every sexy step and move after our tiring workday. He is handsome, and his executive suit tucked loosely under the tight pants where his round and sexy cheeks sit neatly beside the deep butt line that can kill even the most sexless religious soul. A very manly guy with rugby legs, a formidable pillars,that can easily locked mine tightly to his for a good fxxk until my feathers drop. Not that I have the gift to see his naked frontal package and am sure it won’t be a disappointment by my own calculation of his overall stocky structure. That was when I started to like him. Unlike other neighbors who find my gaysome look distasteful, he is the only one with expressionless and shy reaction when we bumped into each other, often in the neighborhood or while waiting for our lift together.

Sometime I noticed at the tip of his mouth a brief smile was greeting me, with his little restraint for observing the cruel gay rule of never eat where you shit. When we were in the lift, he will politely wait until I leave the floor before pushing the button to his next level. Not my usual encounter of straight people who would bang lift buttons impatiently or make disgusting spitting sound as ritual to dispel me out of their sight immediately the lift door opened.

In the last couple of years, I have seen him putting a lot of discipline to jog in the evening everyday. I am not sure if he is jobless and quite often bumped into him again. As usual, we rubbed shoulder and passed off as stranger and he unknowingly dragged my heart with him.

This day, perching on the window and caught sight of him busy unloading his car, I quickly pulled mother owl beside me. Mother owl, who self claimed to have a huge database and information of neighbors in the same block as hers, might be of some help to her secretive son wanting to get her a son-in-law.. Unfortunately, the data chip of that important man of my life was missing from the mother owl, otherwise it could have easily turned her little owl upside down and ready to dart from the treetop to his prey with confident.

The odd thing about hooting in this late hour that he probably might read this midnight ranting and do nothing to save the hungry owl prying on him. How I wished he could do something to save this rare specie that has no place in the straight world before it started to turn bald. I wanted to be in his “bird” cage for a long time, not just as play pet, but life long companion hooting together under the moon until we see plenty of stars……………….*hoot!!*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

I am hurt again. Today I realized I was nothing in the eyes of mother owl. She said I was nobody compared to everyone she knew who has been successful. She finds me a burden to myself and the family. She claimed that my enemies have more aspiration than me to work harder for their family. I told her I am working towards fulfilling my dream and needed time. She said I was wishful and not realistic. She said I waited too long to prove my success. I have to withstand her sarcasm and prickly words. I cannot stand those and said something really mean that hurts her badly. Bearing the burden alone is too much and not receiving much encouragement make it worse. I find it necessary to let my temper off today.

In this midnight hour, I ponder whether I should blame someone for kept blaming me, whether I should think of my own rights before others by showing my retliation – to protect who I was and wanted to be. All that they care was they fed me and now is my obligation to repay by going into that slaughter house and stop whining. I am now at the cross road of my life:- live to eat to fufill my wish, or eat to live to fufill hers. Time is against my wish and this superficial society is not helpful either. I am hopeless.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I am sure your friend felt extremely lousy.

However on the other hand, it is better to get rejected than to live on empty promise!

Just one question:

Did your friend do the homework before going for the job interview?

How reliable is this company?

From what I read, it is more like a warehouse rather than a proper set-up.

Tell your friend he is lucky not to work in this "shady" company.

Next time, ask him to apply for jobs nearer his home too.. saves on transport and travelling time.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I am hurt again. Today I realized I was nothing in the eyes of mother owl. She said I was nobody compared to everyone she knew who has been successful. She finds me a burden to myself and the family. She claimed that my enemies have more aspiration than me to work harder for their family. I told her I am working towards fulfilling my dream and needed time. She said I was wishful and not realistic. She said I waited too long to prove my success. I have to withstand her sarcasm and prickly words. I cannot stand those and said something really mean that hurts her badly. Bearing the burden alone is too much and not receiving much encouragement make it worse. I find it necessary to let my temper off today.

In this midnight hour, I ponder whether I should blame someone for kept blaming me, whether I should think of my own rights before others by showing my retliation – to protect who I was and wanted to be. All that they care was they fed me and now is my obligation to repay by going into that slaughter house and stop whining. I am now at the cross road of my life:- live to eat to fufill my wish, or eat to live to fufill hers. Time is against my wish and this superficial society is not helpful either. I am hopeless.

Maybe mother owl was right.

You are still living off mother owl when you should be flying off and build your own nest and yet, still full of complaints.

Nobody likes a complaining parasite.

But then, there are still many other birds like you around so you are not alone.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

I don't really understand this society. On one hand they expected you to be nice and caring, and on the other hand they did bad things to you. Why can’t this people simply be courteous and nice to this owl? At least leave me alone perching on the tree and admire who I am even if you don’t praise how adorable I look or whether my feather looks attractive under the sun. If you don’t want to be bitten my me, stop hurling stones and firing arrows behind my back and than pretending you are more innocent than me. Why behave like a terrorist and than run for cover acting like gutless victim. What credit does it serve to be nasty to me and make you feel mightier when we are all under the same feet of god inescapable of death eventually?

To avoid the above happening, this owl has to be territorial, protect his own space and prevent any further casualty no fault of mine. So don’t blame me for being selfish, self-center and self-defended. Whether or not you like my style, I am doing it for you and my own good. . And because I don’t need you as much as you try to despise me, so get lost and leave me alone!!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

*hoot* For the first time, I went to ION and had my BRUNCH at "Donuts & Coffee". The staffs service sucked!!! The pinoy cashier looks like he just woke up from a long morning nap. The chinese (china?) staff had difficulty communicating with his indian customers. I grabbed a sandwich from the counter and paid for my coffee which was half full given by the pinoy cashier who seemed a little lethargic. Than I went over to grab a tray and was shocked to see all the empty trays, near the disposal bin, were terribly untidy. The topmost tray was soiled and flooded with spilled coffee, the bottom tray still have all the loose sugar wrappers and crumbs neatly pressed against by other trays - a disgusting sight that I do not wish see my sandwich placing on it. Than the wooden chairs were blocking my path and not properly organised to the respective tables. The roll of seats facing the wall were also littered with crumbs and I have to use my hands to dust them away. There was no basin nearby for me to wash it so I have to use my tissue to grab my sandwich while eating. Finally, a pinoy lady manager wearing red came out of the office, placed her hands on the hip, cleaned up one table, looked around and than went back to her office again without cleaning up the other messy table left behind by previous customers. Than a young teenage girl walked in to order her donut, while paying at the cashier, the chinese counter staff gave her the expression that resemble the red-shirt soccer guy in the kentucky advertisement. I couldn't stand the sight any longer, gulped down my coffee, packed my sandwich and left.

Typical first class territory, third world service. That small space and shortest period of time truly portray the uniqueness of this country that we are not at all first world and having foreigners may not necessarily seem to improve the level of service & productivity I have witnessed this morning. Feel like filing a complain to the management and fire the staff immediately. *hoot!!!!*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

*hoot!*

I was traveling from EAST to WEST via MRT today and noticed a young couple staring at each other for a whole 45 minutes travel distance. The guy, around early to mid 20s, wearing a loose green polo T, has his hand “glued” to the hip of his teenage girl. They were unspoken throughout the journey or a faint whisper hardly audible to anyone standing near.

His pointed face a little uneven, clustered with red rashes of immature pimples, suffocating under the skin, and dying to erupt. He hooked a pitch black sunglasses, to act cool, on his V-neck polo T. Its weight dragged it down, exposing his bony ribs and two thick collar bones just below his pointed Adam apple. His eyebrows were thin and fine like it never existed at all. His stubborn prickly long hair, that seemed like it has never tasted shampoo for months, draping over it.

His teenage gf has a stronger statement to make for him or everyone in the street. Her artificial & long dark eye lashes, together with thick rim penciled around his eyes, can match that pony in the zoo. Her thin eyelids, meticulously painted to enlarge and match the color of her bf’s shirt, make her look like an overall panda cub. As if the cosmetic companies have not suffered enough from such walking “advertisement”, pink, orange and beach colored pan-cakes, were generously applied all over her face to create an unnecessary shades that kill her already flawless and young innocent face, almost standing at her bf shoulder level. She was dressed in black night skirt and wore heavy beads as big as knuckles and black as charcoal, putting stress around her neck and look very auntie-like. They both simply glued into each others eyes, mind busy with horny imagination written loud and clear in their intimate posture and drama expressions.

At city hall, the space get narrower, created an opportunity for the guy to press her breast against him and obediently she reciprocated with her groin pushed forward to meet his and then they were lip-to-lip away, oblivious to the perturbed passengers surrounding them.

As if suddenly she noticed a pair of big round owl eyes looking attentively, she began to stroke his face with extreme passion and then deliberately did something freakish that caused this owl feathers to stand on end. She lifted up her two thumbs, and with her two polished and decorated nails, tried to pop a pimple for him, in this extremely crammed space devoid of air. I saw some disgusted faces turning away. At that moment and in my very entire living life, defying the couple thought that this lonely owl was jealous; I have never felt so fortunate being gay. I foretell my gay romance will be more professional than these horrifying straight scene!!!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

*hoot*

Finally, I am flying away from my comfort forest to find prey. It is a totally new forest but I promise mother owl I will return on winter if I fail. I do not know what I can find in the new forest but I know there are other kind of predators lurking around for the same food I am seeking. If you are not careful you will end up as someone's meal. I know of a few owls who flew and came back with broken wings and neck which took them years to recuperate before flying off again. Though I wasn't as adventurous as them and never took to my wings too soon after returning from war - with eagles and hunters - and chose to stay in a safe and friendly forest.

Certainly this adventure is going to be a tough one, more so for a gay owl. But based on my past experience flying high and low in land less trodden and river filled with crocodiles, I believe it should not be difficult to deal with danger since I can fly.

I do not know how long it will take for me to settle down in new forest. According to tales from other owls, the winds there are strong and the branches less steady. There are not many branchy and bushy trees to take cover and this owl will bear for all watching creatures that came at night like wolfs and leopards. The nasty blood sucking bats will occassionally disturb your sleep and you need to hold steady and not fall off the tree.

The good thing is, there will be other owls like me but of a different species (not gay one of course) and because I am gay, it will invite a lot of curiosity - from creatures unknown. I will hoot courteously to those who meant no harm and glowed by eyes to frighten those who did.....so are the tales and warning from my other fellow owls.

If I succeeded through all obstacles, I may be able to fly through the forest where the mountain lies and there settled on top of the mountain peak, build a nest and retire gracefully never to seek new adventure again. I will than send message to mother owl, never to worry for me because that is the high place no other prey can come near and the nest should be big enough to provide warmth and safety throughout the seasons instead of me perching on tree top covered with snow.

I have two more days to preen my feathers before setting off.......*hoot*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

I have just finished cleaning up my old nest, ate the last piece of meat, drew a map, leave behind note and ready to take flight. Already rumours in the new forest that a gay owl is coming and I could hear the tall hairy wolf howling from the distance. Apparently he has made friend with a fat black pantha and I cannot tell what were in their mind about this new visitor - for good or bad. I have no other route to the mountain to build my dream nest, the new forest is the only way to find my dream. The journey seems long but it is my priority to find the exit of that forest and track down the path to the fantasy moutain. I have also done much exhausting research over the weekend and realised the exit of the forest is where the wolf slept and he has build a dungeon to keep watch of tresspasser daring to dream of the mountain. Anyway when there is a dream, there is hope to get to that dream regardless of its distance. I am coming. Wish me luck!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

Today I received a reminder from Town Council to remove my feathers. It said if my feather accidentally dropped, it would hurt passers-by below where I perched. Stupid right? I felt like calling up the Town Council to come and inspect and feel the weight of my feather and than tell me if it can be excused from plucking off. I could possibly think that if the wind blows, the falling leaves have high tendency of killing someone than my own feather. What if the stem or branches creaked and dropped, must NPB start chopping down all the trees just because people feel irritated by massive falling leaves or noise of trees? If a child got pricked by roses, the govt should banned all roses import too? On the other hand, it could be due to some dogs and monkies who were jealous of me, and too free with their spare time that they enjoy making unnecessary complains about nitty gritty stuff and picked me to be their target of fun. On the other hand, Town Council should also think and not just react blindly whenever people said something. I felt so sick about the people surrounding our living space,and enjoy interferring for the sake of showing their superiority. Stressful lives turned into revenge and hurting the innocent and than the cycle repeat, creatiang more hatre in the society.

I always dream of emigrating. In western world, people will feed the owl during their free time and even co-exist with it in their backyard. Whereas in Singapore, people shoot at the first sight of me and started to clap when they created a din on me. So sick of them!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...
Guest Midnight Owl

I have just finished cleaning up my old nest, ate the last piece of meat, drew a map, leave behind note and ready to take flight. Already rumours in the new forest that a gay owl is coming and I could hear the tall hairy wolf howling from the distance. Apparently he has made friend with a fat black pantha and I cannot tell what were in their mind about this new visitor - for good or bad. I have no other route to the mountain to build my dream nest, the new forest is the only way to find my dream. The journey seems long but it is my priority to find the exit of that forest and track down the path to the fantasy moutain. I have also done much exhausting research over the weekend and realised the exit of the forest is where the wolf slept and he has build a dungeon to keep watch of tresspasser daring to dream of the mountain. Anyway when there is a dream, there is hope to get to that dream regardless of its distance. I am coming. Wish me luck!

The big fat pantha snarled at me on my first visit to the forest almost two months ago. It wasn't a good start nor a warm welcome. The wolf was pretentious upon seeing me and hardly wanted to talk. His other siblings were always on close watch - taking turn to guard the path to my fantasy mountain. Though nobody knows my intention, but I suspect there was a spy close by. A fat white bore was always on constant quarrel with a gay fox creating a very bad scene. A group of hyenas came and went on daily basis and making lots of disturbing noises before retreating into their cave for slumber. As for me, the day seems longer than night and it was extremely exhausting for me whenever the wolf passed by and squinted its eyes in my direction. He will howl whenever I prinched my feathers or picked on fruits or other nitty stuff I did to spend my days. The only feather creature is a tiny canary. I tried to make friend with her but she stayed a distance because she was well favoured by all the animals including the wolf and that makes her the spy on me. On day, she boasted to me that she was an eagle in disguise, so as to act likes he was on par with an owl like me. One day, I brought a piece of meat and asked her to take it like an eagle in front of the wolf. Apparently, her ego was bigger than that piece of meat and she tried to swallow but choked herself terribly. The wolf came after me and tore my feathers while I flew away taking a a small portion of my hard-earned to seek refuge elsewhere - my dream was dashed and I never get to see the fantasy mountain again. Anyway, the comforting thing is, I know the route to the mountain but do not have the mean to get there anymore and the good news is, even if I cannot achieve the peak of the mountain, there is a hill beside the mountain which I can explore to - not much better than the mountain but quite cosy. But I want them all.

As for now, I believe I will just have to take a slow walk until my feathers are fully grown back again. So much for being my short adventure in that uninteresting forest.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

I was limping my way to the fantasy mountain and saw this tall ostrich along the same path as me. I tried to smile at him when we first met but he gave me the crappy look. Just because he is taller than me he thought he is mightier. Whenever we crossed path, he never fail to give me his shitty look. I do not know why some people wanted to behave in such manner with an imaginary emperor gown and treated everyone like his less respected subject.

The other day, I tried to open the door to go out but the moment the tall guy saw me doing that, he barged in without the courtesy of allowing me to step out first. He wanted to enjoy the impression that the door was deliberately opened for him to enter. While he was doing that clumsily, I accidentally knocked on someone walking along the corridor and have to apologize for the accident.

You see, this tall guy is dark tone skin, quite Ah Beng type but a little meaty with uneven bloated face. He wore the same jeans almost every week we met and looks quite unpresentable. His hair is thin and almost quite bald if he grew much older later. Overall, he is not the type of guy I fancy. I believe he lacked both external and internal beauty to speak of and I wished to tell him upfront about my thought, if he is rude again, to bring him back to his ordinary. Than again, I was just injured by the wolf and wanted to play safe by treating him with oblivion. He is not young anymore and we both were taking the same path to our fantasy mountain. Eventually I do not know which way he will take and do not wish to bump into him again.

Anyway, I believe the main reason why we were borned different. He has long neck and long feet and I have sharp claws and short neck. I can catch rabbit easier and he can dig mud easier and with his legs opened too. As a matter of fact he already has his head stuck underground and his ass up in the air if he tries to play attitude with me again.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 5 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

My antelope was missing for two weeks. Ever since I set out into the wild, after being chased out by wolfs, he has been accompanying me to the fantasy mountain. I believe he gave up because the journey was not easy and he seemed troubled at times. I kinda like him because he is much bigger and I felt so secured to have him around. Ever since he went missing without a trace, other bitches (the female animals) started to come closer and made funny noises behind my back and the cunning one will pierce their eyes at me when I was not looking. I have to keep my two ears up, fluttered my feathers a little to ward off their negative energy.

How I wish it was the ostrich that should go away because he remains haughty. Today, I witnessed him "accidentally" collided with a wild bore who managed to skirt swiftly away and snarl back. But the ostrich pretended nothing has happened and continued to walk like peacock without those colorful fanned feathers. Oh ya, his backside is black and raw like slaughtered turkey and he didn't know. Now you know why I always turned my head away whenever that haughty birds come closer to flash his feathers. Mother owl used to say whenever danger is near, turned your face away to conceal your luminous eyes.

Father owl was hospitalized due to over consumption of meat resulted in old age sickness. In hospital, I noticed all mighty and less mighty humans were humbled - by the power of sickness and not by wealth. All bedridden patients were staring at each other, wondering why others were there. In their lonely anxious days, reeked with medications, mild friendship was forged regardless of race, language or religion.

Ever since father owl situation happened, I was wondering if I could still dream of my fantasy mountain or should I give up pursuing it. Life is so unfair, build with so much pain. One struggling with dream and another struggling with ailments. I wonder which is more painful in this journey. Father owl began to look internally now, every slight ache that goes away from him - is a rare gift.

Today, I return to my journey and stared beyond the mountain of my dream. Will it provide me less pain in future once I reached there? I have no answer but I must move on.....

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...
Guest Midnight Owl

My tiring journey has finally brought me to a huge river. There is no way I can cross over to the opposite side of the river without any log or bridge to help me. The last time I was here, there was a long bridge but I missed it because of father owl sudden ailment and I have to rush home to tender to him. Now that I am here again, the bridge is gone!!!! The worse thing is, there is drought coming my way and certain part of the forest is already burning like crazy. Soon it will get me toasted alive if I can't think of any solution fast. I am at a lost. Probably, I am not fated to reach the fantasy mountain successfuly and this angry river lived many hungry piranha. Already see them jumping along the rivers. Wish there is a floating log to bring me away from the burning land. Under desperate measure, I hope to meet a kind crocodile to give me a ride, if there is any such species on earth.

Was at NTUC queuing up to pay for my item when the opposition cashier decided to open up her counter and called out to me: "Miss, you can pay here!!" *Sigh*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I am one of those rare species in this planet with gay written all over me. At one look, people can tell I am gay. My voice disclosed my identity, my action speaks volume and I have a wonderful gaysome look. So what!!! Are you going to judge me and make you any less gay than myself? The positive side is people do not require much effort to cruise me because they don’t need to speculate whether I am straight or gay. The “signboard” is already written loud and clear to them – you are welcome to take me.

Aiyo, u r giving yrself too much credit. if U r what u said "gay written all over me ; My voice disclosed my identity, my action speaks volume", then u r one of those who behave more 'girly' than a typical female. Have u even consider the alternative, they stare at you because u look and act like a FREAK!

""Was at NTUC queuing up to pay for my item when the opposition cashier decided to open up her counter and called out to me: "Miss, you can pay here!!" *Sigh* ""

There is nothing to *sigh*. U probably, dress like one, walk like one, talk like one and u sigh when people call u "Miss"?

Edited by lohwpr
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

I always felt sleepy during the day. It is supposed to be full of activities but I can't bring myself out to play. I love my pillow more than anything else. My eyelids are heavy and I dread going out because there are so many anti-gay people out there. I hate to see them and will find the quiet route (even if I have to take longer distance) to get where I wanted to go - usually to the suana to get fxxk and than wash up and return home.

Talking about stares that can kill, I have received numerous of such stares in my life. All these eyes are talking and full of expression, so judgemental, so scary and rude under the supposedly bright and sunny day. I believe, there will be more murders and slaughtering to come if people continue to give others their intrusive stare. The glad thing about staring is, they usually comes from people with lower class background and they have nothing in their life to show except their pair of pathetic eyes, hoping for attention. Sick people.

*yawn*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

I seemed to have this funny affinity with people who loves “small” things. When I saw a guy, regardless of his age, meddling with toys or cute products in shopping malls, I will inch closer to feel the warm emitting from his innocence. Than I will pretend touching the same toys until he started to notice and smile at me for showing the same interest in the finest things in life. I don’t have much warmth in my life for who I am, so I pathetically resorted to such tactic to find one. Yes, I am gay and desperate for attention, so what! I also noticed when my feathers are longer, I look more adorable and people tend to like me. Otherwise, I was borned in a place where many rude people, usually those working in air-conditioned office thinking they are bigger than the world and we must obey and conform to their rules of livings. I hate to be restricted thus I left my old forest to search for my fantasy mountain. But the journey is tough…..*sigh*. How I wished I have a companion who could tell me what to do in time of dilemma like this.

Anyway, parts of my feathers are already burned. There is drought in the land and fire is forcing in. I still could not cross the river. It is broad and hurry and the last time I chanced upon a floating log, I did not hesitate and grab it so tightly that it started to wriggle and nearly twisted my neck. Before the anaconda could do anything, I jumped and scrambled back to the river bank and bellied up like a drowned chick being pushed to the shore – nervous, exhausted and lost. Than a young mouse came and thought I was dead which could be fed on, I picked up a stone and smashed it. He ran away half injured but I couldn’t care since he tried to take advantage of my predicament.

Now my mind is reeling what to do next and have the urge to jump into the river again for the sake of getting away from the fire. May be I should take advantage of my fluffy and light weight to let the river decide which course to take me? But the anxiety is strong for not in control of your directions and the possible danger of being floated endlessly while dangers lurk beneath the water which I cannot see. How I wished I have made friends with many creatures in the past and in time like this, they may be of good assistance. In the meantime, my only motivation is the nearly impossible 2-years away fantasy mountain or that hopeful & delightful hill next to it. I feel so lonely...

*hoot.*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

I told mother owl that I am giving up pursuing the fantasy mountain. She was shocked that I have walked some distance and now planning to give up. Well....the last time I plunked into the river, I met head on with a short-tailed crocodile. Initially I thought he was unusually friendly by allowing me to piggyback him. During that brief journey, he told me lots of nice stories about how he will help me across the river and promise to direct me to the place I wished to go. When the night fall he than led me to a dark tunnel where his nest was and asked me to help baby-sit his baby crocodiles before continuing my journey next day. It was a stormy night and I immediacy sensed danger and escaped the nest when the father crocodile disappeared. It was a close shave for me! Anyway, I hate liars; I hate people with hidden agenda and pretended they are kind. They are hypocrite. I hope the baby crocodiles starved to death.......

Anyway, it has been a cooling month, especially in the late afternoon with rains. I made friend with my harmless pillow again. I don't feel like going out on a wet day to get fxxk. So I slept soundly trying to forget everything that has passed. Half-way through my dream, I woke up with my heart throbbing loudly ‘Pick Pock, Pick Pock....' non stop. I think it was a sudden anxiety seizure. I allowed it to continue before it started to calm and than I tried to find the root cause of my sudden awake – I had a bad dream. I dreamt my group of snobbish and inquisitive friends hounded me until I lost my directions in life….than I woke up, just about time for dinner.

I was always hungry at night, very hungry. I wished I knew why. After dinner, I make myself a cup of instant noodles and than I grabbed a pile of biscuits and made myself Nescafe. After that I searched high and low for potato chips and make myself a cup of tea to go with it…..now I am hungry again thinking what to eat for tomorrow breakfast. I am so stress this week.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

I know many people wanted me to go out and play but I hate to think of it. I do not have a pleasant time in the city of Singapore especially in the day time, even in normal grocery shopping or eating out for daily needs.

The other day, I was at Queenstown McDonald and ordered a cup of ice Milo that cost 2.20. I gave the cashier $5.00 and he returned $1.80 as change. It wasn’t crowded and his oversight was totally unforgivable. Besides, he was playful among his colleagues and didn't pay much attention to the person he served. I told him bluntly that I don’t give tips and he wanted me to wait for his next customer so that he can open his till again to return me the short-change money….It was like waiting for Christmas before the next customer came. Yes, he was swift with his hands and almost wanted to close his till before I stopped to remind him that he still owes me a dollar. Than again, when I thought I have some peaceful time in a quiet restaurant drinking expensive milo, a few Korean students were laughing, talking loudly and moving restlessly like they were in Disneyland.

During lunch, I went over to Anchor point to have Vietnamese rice (I think is pineapple rice). I paid about $6.20 and waited….than the plain plate topped yellowish rice came. The Vietnamese woman picked up a tong and was about to grab some cucumbers as garnish but saw more customers walked in, she decided to put back the tong and told me it was done. I stood there and reminded her that she was supposed to give me some slices of cucumbers which she has given to her earlier customers. She sulked after that – obviously not happy that I even bother to ask.

Not to mention the other commercial mechanical tones that greeted you everyday at the cashier counter in NTUC, Shop N Save and even Guardian pharmacy now: “Are you a member?” Oh yes!!, even if I just buy a can of coke in Shop N Save or mineral water at Guardian Pharmacy, I have been asked for Passion Card too. Same encounters for buying a pencil at Popular bookshop, a piece of wood at Ikea and now Arts Friends, too, all gone into the same frenzy of asking similar tiresome question. Aren’t this people bored of chanting these so many times? What is so good about all these membership cards that can’t give me the sexual pleasure I wanted. Hmmm……someday, when I saw a hunk queuing behind me at the cashier, I might just playfully flash my exclusive sauna “passion” card at the cashier and asked if she has seen them and whether it qualify for discount on my purchases……

Just yesterday night, I decided to pack something fried for dinner, I went to KFC to order two pieces crispy chicken breast meal. Apparently the breast part was out of “stock” in the oven with only drumstick left. I was told to wait 10 minutes before my order can be fulfilled. Again….Christmas in the waiting and I tried not to think of my hunger. After a seemingly long wait, the cashier came with a small box and asked how many pack of chili I needed…… Thinking everything was in order and I was about to leave the counter, I decided to stay based on guts feel that hasty staff cannot be trusted, so I better check. I flipped open the box cover, and saw a piece of fatty drumstick lying neatly and mocking at me; I wanted to scream……. :swear:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest boy2man

LOL, I signed up for the Passion Ezlink card simply because I could not take being bombarded by the question "Do you have Passion card?" at Guardian and Cold Storage. But that said, I lost my Passion Ezlink card recently... *damn*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

In less than a week, the whole world will turn into madness. Like any other years, I still do not know how to celebrate Christmas or the lack of necessity to follow modernity. I have seen colleagues exchanging gifts and giving out well wishes and than start swearing again for the next 360 days and the boss still looking as strange as any other days.

Thus it was never my forte to buy gifts, party, shop, sing joy and love that never seem like permanent. Ya, love! is not something we can find everyday let alone cultivated on Christmas day? It is like a pleasurable one night stand, and than it is gone again with much exhaustion, bringing with it a discarded and undressed Christmas tree in its bitter form. The month of toil poured into the festive preparation is nothing more than showing off materialism, greed and business dealings – seeing who spend the loudest and which industry profited the most.

Christmas should be a quiet and peaceful affair, like an owl perched on a tall pine tree, free from human interference. It should be a cool night with the brightest stars ever hanged in the sky visible for view and not intrusive man-made twinkling lights that blinded our sense and numbed our directions.

No wine, turkey, log cakes, seafoods and drunkard laughter. Just me, swaying with the trees, tickling the ripening cones, hooting at the brightest star, smelling the world in its originality and than ordered a cup of Teh tarik, 2 kosong pratas in a quiet corner of an unknown suburb – savoring the final shred of dignity before this unglamorous human year ended, again.

*hoot, hoot*.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

hi,

I am just another silly average guy next door who is also a writer myself & I'm planning to start a website online for authors such as yourself. I have been in this forum for quite sometime, I must say, beside you, there are these 2 gentlemen by the name of mark & larry. I must say all of you are excellent writers at it's utmost originality. I hope that you would able to liaise with me, so in order for my this online blog website for authors to happen.. I would also like to take this opportunity to allow you to become an author with your own books that are waiting to be published & sold in book stores such as MPH & TIMES..

Do keep up the artwork of writing. I'll be reading..

cheers

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

I have read many stories about how and when gay people came to know their own identity. I would like to share an owl's true story......

The northern sun ascended with warm wide smile across the lush landscape that flourished with daisies, roses and other colorful perennials to herald the arrival of spring. Laughters and songs echoed through the field where many village folks danced and sang merrily under the sunny sky. Among them, dressed in flora headscarf, was a young lady seen busy reconciling herself with the vast bed of flora, picking fresh flowers and humming happily as occasional chirping birds and flapping butterflies skirted by....

Suddenly, an elderly woman called out to the lady in scarf, "Olwin! You have a visitor.". "Who is it?" she responded with basket full of flowers and swam through the pool of scented blossoms brushing by her blouse. Stood in the sea of blooming greeneries was a transformed stout-looking young man, tanned and charmed with glistering eyes beneath his dark and thick handsome brows. He was clad with insignias on green uniform and took off his red beret to greet the host of inquisitive ladies who had already gathered excitedly around him. Among them, his eyes searched for his longing love he had promised, when he was a young village lad, prior to his departure to serve his duty overseas.

Her scarf was taken swiftly by the sudden breeze revealing her long flowy hair. The couple became emotional when they met again, without further hesitant, the handsome young man knelt and proposed before her. In his hand an army green velvety box unveiled a shiny gold ring crested with emerald. ”Will you marry me?” …..

Nearby Chapel streamed out loud melodious chime which brought joy into every corner of the morning suburb and echoed its way into the mountains before disappearing into the distant sky. Olwin, radiant in fairy-like gown, was the happiest among all envious ladies who were presence. In the name of love, a wedding ring was set upon her fair finger and the couple sank into deep kisses with loud applauses and choir of flute and violins and chorus of wedding songs gathered to cheer. The occasion was hearty.

The well-tended garden with beautiful lake, and various shade of fruitful foliages and brilliant flowers that were made for twilight strolling, winged through their garden where Olwin was busy again tending to her beloved hobby and he was patiently fishing by the riverside. Life could never have been blissful and when there were slight activities coming from the river, she would join in the fun upon his calling. The river was crisped with crystal clear water running through the high mountain and meandered its way below the valley where the couple first met. Olwin marveled at every ripples and blabbers that the river made and upon which colorful rainbow bridged between the mountain and the hidden land under the backdrop of the scarlet evening sky. She cuddled under his arm and they wondered away in romance at the shimmering river, indulged in the precious moment of sight, sound and scent from every bit of nature, far from this hectic world.

Suddenly out of nowhere, the river was floated with scraps and junks and became murky and smells with filth... Olwin was stunned by the unexpected change in the river but it continued to raise its level and lap the shore with anger. Someone shouted behind her……

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Owl!” yelled mother who was with father at the bench beside Singapore River, “be careful, and don’t fall into the river”. The noisy and smoky boats, which manually carried the source of our island livelihood, had disturbed the river bed and frightened Owl who was hardly 4 years old. The twilight in the evening sky offered a tint of sweet memories from place still lingers in little owl. He stared into the cloudy river again, searching for answer, but drew a blank from the furious wave that never seems to end. Puzzled and curious in this world so strange, Owl flew about like an inquisitive bird and landed on a prominent dark statue of Sir Stamford Raffles. Though the tall object shielded him from the late afternoon sun, it send shiver down his spine. He flew back to mother owl and sunk his face under her feathers. Tears rolled from the corner of his small round eyes, glittered its way along his fair young cheeks with an inexplicable sadness that his life, just like the river, will never be the same again……….

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the world kept changing and ripping every stage of owl’s life thereafter, they were like bricks stacked to conceal the sun and darkened his dark secret. Owl’s feathers have matured since, but deep within is a soul pure as spring and a heart of sweet roses “she” once tendered in the garden. For many years, laughter’s of children and chime of chapel never dies in his sleeps and he saw colors once more in his vivid dreams.

After getting fxxked in the nearby saunas as regular dose of faked love, he flew to the nearby bridge, cuddled alone under the cold rock beside the now clean and silent river. He waited for the sky to throw its last scarlet curtain of the day and reminisced the lost ripples in his heart with a missing cherished love to hug and nestle in.

The melancholy wind of the past caressed and fluttered his silvery feather and like those days it swept away his distinctive scarf, couple of loose feathers flew into the air and sailed on the river like mini boat which reminds him of the raging waves that drowned his intimate dream. He perched quietly on the rock, showered by the golden beam from the familiar setting sun, it casted a picturesque scene of a golden owl deeply in thought by the dazzling river. Nobody could guess if he is a bird or cat from a distance, and he never give two “hoots” about it when his love melody was altered in space and time in his young age. He knew he has to move on, just like the tide from the same chilling river ………*hoot.*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 4 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

All my owl rantings in that silly Tiger year has proved to many that I am, to certain measure, a fxxking bottom. Yes! I am a fxxking owl but I do not know if those fxxking days were joy or misery or a combination of both. Sometime I wonder if it could be the miserable life in me that ended up in different fxxking adventures I least expected. It happened mostly in saunas, a place of hideout for owl, from this miserable city state. Frankly, my regard for this country is so transient like those fxxking days with men. I wish I am wrong.

I know, this life can never be a woman and only a screw in my ass is recognition that I am still me. I went to sauna and spend hours waiting and looking for the moment I wanted to be, with least expectation of course. Sometime a guy will come up to me, touched my butt (like I mentioned in my very first post) I have a clear signboard that read so. He will wait for me to reciprocate by touching his dick, if he is a top. If I did, he will hold my hand and led me into a room to enjoy our brief nuptial pilgrimage, unconditionally. It is a smooth journey but I know he will just walk out of my dream soon after he reached his “destination”. Did I just mention the word “unconditional?” that is life and I am content with just that, for now.

There were other days, someone will start off with kissing before we even stripped and I have to hold my breath and asked for a moment of fresh air. I told him “let me guess, you had your fish head noodle for dinner?” He nodded and I requested him to take a rinse and come back again while I wait. I broke my promise.

However, to those who have practically nothing to do and bored to the core, whiling away in Sauna is the best option because you could just stand there, in the dark, meditating in $!^*| quietness (if you can bear with next-door earth shaking groans and moans) without any prey or bait that caught your eyes. I did that with eyes opened and monkey mind. Occasionally, someone might just give you a hopeful surprise by nudging you and you ended up in cloud nine without needing further meditation to get there. There was this guy, who did that when I almost fell asleep waiting and he told me he had been watching me while I stood in the dark corner. He looks muscular, botak and presumed handsome. I went in with him and the light was on, I ran out immediately because he was some stalker I wished to avoid but had shaved his hair to look different. Fortunately I was swift, he could have de-chastised me with his owl-craving fantasy.

Than, it seemed like a temple full of “monks”, I met another botak who is stocky and dying to screw me upside down. After changing several positions to suit him and half-way thru when my ass was still aching lightly from his lengthy-cock thrusting, he pulled out and wanted me to suck him dry. I could not possibly mouth his dick with used condom that poked my ass, so I put on a new condom for him but to his dismay, he left with “courteous excuses” that he had an urgent appointment. I saw him loitered throughout the night and he smiled apologetically. Weird!

Having fxxked 2010, I went for another adventure. The guy whom we both mutually liked, led me into a room, Thereafter, he simply stood there and hugged me like some long lost relative finally arrived at the airport. I wanted him to proceed and he basically followed my instructions. Not a very spontaneous fxxker. He had a hard-on when I touched his cock but started to get limp when I sat on it. I have to spend all my owl energy oralled and shook and adjusted my butt to keep him erected but to no avail and I have to ask if he is a bottom which he admitted and promised he will try his best. His best performance was lay there like a piece of unassembled dead wood while I tried to figure how to fix it. I was too exhausted to pursue his interest in trying out my ass. We left without any consequences, giving outsiders the impression that this owl has had a good fxxk (with a limp dick) of his life.

The most absurd and interesting thing happened recently when I was waiting in vain with no taker for the night. I almost wanted to give up but still persevered to get my money back "in-kind". Another guy, too, was there almost spending the same amount of fruitless time as me. We finally sat down to rest in the dark bench, two lonesome strangers. He was bold to inch his fingers closer to mine and turned his head with a horny smile thru his white teeth. Though it was dark, my owl eyes could roughly figure out that he is an ordinary Joe who is there to find his ONS fxxker. My heart was pouncing to try this chap – yes, I am desperate – before the night ended.

We went into the room and I just wanted to get fxxk and go home after a tiring day. He hugged me, grabbed my butt, caressed my nipples, kissed my ears and molested every part of my vital points, very multi-tasking fellow who is clearly experienced and starving for sex – for that night. Without further delay, I pushed him and got myself ready into the bed, we fxxked missionary position. In the midst, he stopped, with his thick throbbing cock still held by my ass; he stared into my face and gave me his unreserved encompassing smile. I was hesitant: “oh please don’t ask me to suck your used cock, and I doesn’t want to French kiss you either…” Than he opened his mouth and asked where I stayed, and my phone number, all at once, while still screwing me slowly. It was easy and I threw him a few numbers from the air and he sensed I was lying, he sat up, shoved me deeper and harder and my nipples stood on air, signaled him not to pull his brake or distract me with further uninteresting questions. However, he violated my desire again after giving me his couple of revengeful dick strokes; he tuned down his “engine” and threw his heavy weight onto me, we were almost nose-to-nose. My mind was like “now what?” and it took him years to finally whispered: “do you love me?” :rolleyes:

Now you know why being a casual bottom owl is never easy. I wished someday, I can find a “formal” husband – and enjoy only one adventure – for the rest of my life with him.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

The first man I truly loved is a charismatic married man.

It happened on my first job just after completing my national service. I was a new sprout in a jungle full of women politics. He would defend me when he smells danger nearing this unexpectant child. His over-caring attitude, towards a newbie who is almost half his age younger, has turned into my object of affection.

3 years working for my manager were no easy fare. The pioneers have gone beyond their limit to put this softie owl in their baptism of fire, grilling him to the maximum to prove his worth of staying. My manager was always there to shield me, without any request, when the need arises – like a guardian entrusted to look after a child away from home. His daily presence is my motivation to continue working in the stressful place I do not love.

His absence, even for a few hours, will put me in great anxiety wondering what could have happened that made him disappeared from my life office, leaving me under the mercy of others I do not like. My love and gratitude towards him grew stronger everyday, mainly because he showered me with unlimited knowledge and selfless protection that saved me from the trauma of society. I tried to compensate them by working hard (even if I have to burn all my weekends or sick leaves), like a wife trying to impress her husband and render as pillar of support, at all cost, for a purpose to see him succeed.

Eventually his dream came true, he was promoted to AVP. Since than we bond closer in work and he brought me for supper if we stayed late after office hour and than send me home – no carnal activity. I fantasized more than I enjoyed being with him as he drove us through the city and I wished there was heavy traffic jam that could lengthen our night and chatting away like a romantic couple in his scented car. Thereafter, I beamed in my sleep looking forward to the next working morning to be with him again. The intensity of love has never been stronger in my life.

Our third year marked double-happiness for him. Through our hard work, he was promoted to VP and his wife also gave birth to a son. However, I was constricted in my jealousy of the latter news. As usual, he carried no air in his new title and the lady colleagues started to crowd for his strategic supports, eating into every possible space I could spend with him in the office. I brought him to his peak only to have me tumbling down the mountain. My sullenness didn’t help when news broke that he will be transferred overseas. My lost turned into desire, at least to be in bodily contact with him should any opportunity arise.

On that fateful Christmas party, one of my colleagues suggested (directed at me) that the guy should put on woman make-up to entertain them. My boss agreed that he will join me if the ladies insisted. They even brought us scarfs and skirts to fit – me on my eye shadow and him on lipstick – we sat together waiting for the game to start, or rather further instruction from the mischief-maker. Surprisingly, there was no plan and the “Misses” were told to be creative with our own idea of play to make fun for the occasion. My heart was throbbing with excitement and my mind instantly knew exactly what I wanted to do next – it is now or never – even in my hesitant mode. Finally, I ate the gut out of a tiger, threw my arms around my boss’s torso and leaned my head against his chest. It freaked him and he pushed me away before I could even hear him breathed. I was shocked silly and rushed to the washroom washing away my guilt, leaving no evidence for the girls to make further fun on us. I stayed there trying to compose myself – lost and helpless, before my boss joined in and smiled at me, pretended nothing has happened, it was just a game. I was hurt.

As much as I wanted to forget my first innocent & naïve gay experience many donkey years ago, it just never gets out of the jar. I was surprised to bump into him in the mall today.

He was alone, formally dressed; showing many signs of aged man in their successful prime, but his fatherly figure remained intact. We crossed path and I tried to initiate a smile but was greeted with invisibility. I swallowed it complete, stinging like salt on my old wound of shame. A fag, now fagger, with plight tainted by dicks from different men over the years, still wandering for love in the mall, do not deserve a second look from a man he once love or knew. I took a last glimpse of his back but he never looked back. I darted into the torrent of tropical rain, soaked and senseless, waited impatiently for any bus that could bring me out of his shadow. Running away in a dream of guilt and pain – for the second time.

This midnight owl, burrowed under the cover of the night, bewailing the speed of time and his stupidity. There is no moon for me to cry tonight.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Midnight Owl

This ranting shall supersede the previous duplicate one which moderator may delete.

The first man I truly loved is a charismatic married man.

It happened on my first job just after completing my national service. I was a new sprout in a jungle full of women politics. He would defend me when he smells danger nearing this unexpectant child. His over-caring attitude, towards a newbie who is almost half his age younger, has turned into my object of affection.

3 years working for my manager were no easy fare. The pioneers have gone beyond their limit to put this softie owl in their baptism of fire, grilling him to the maximum to prove his worth of staying. My manager was always there to shield me, without any request, when the need arises – like a guardian entrusted to look after a child away from home. His daily presence is my motivation to continue working in the stressful place I do not love.

His absence, even for a few hours, will put me in great anxiety wondering what could have happened that made him disappeared from my life office, leaving me under the mercy of others I do not like. My love and gratitude towards him grew stronger everyday, mainly because he showered me with unlimited knowledge and selfless protection that saved me from the trauma of society. I tried to compensate them by working hard (even if I have to burn all my weekends or sick leaves), like a wife trying to impress her husband and render as pillar of support, at all cost, for a purpose to see him succeed.

Eventually his dream came true, he was promoted to AVP. Since than we bond closer in work and he brought me for supper if we stayed late after office hour and than send me home – no carnal activity. I fantasized more than I enjoyed being with him as he drove us through the city and I wished there was heavy traffic jam that could lengthen our night and chatting away like a romantic couple in his scented car. Thereafter, I beamed in my sleep looking forward to the next working morning to be with him again. The intensity of love has never been stronger in my life.

Our third year marked double-happiness for him. Through our hard work, he was promoted to VP and his wife also gave birth to a son. However, I was constricted in my jealousy of the latter news. As usual, he carried no air in his new title and the lady colleagues started to crowd for his strategic supports, eating into every possible space I could spend with him in the office. I brought him to his peak only to have me tumbling down the mountain. My sullenness didn’t help when news broke that he will be transferred overseas. My lost turned into desire, at least to be in bodily contact with him should any opportunity arise.

On that fateful Christmas party, one of my colleagues suggested (directed at me) that the guy should put on woman make-up to entertain them. My boss agreed that he will join me if the ladies insisted. They even brought us scarfs and skirts to fit – me on my eye shadow and him on lipstick – we sat together waiting for the game to start, or rather further instruction from the mischief-maker. Surprisingly, there was no plan and the “Misses” were told to be creative with our own idea of play to make fun for the occasion. My heart was throbbing with excitement and my mind instantly knew exactly what I wanted to do next – it is now or never – even in my hesitant mode. Finally, I ate the gut out of a tiger, threw my arms around my boss’s torso and leaned my head against his chest. It freaked him and he pushed me away before I could even hear him breathed. I was shocked silly and rushed to the washroom washing away my guilt, leaving no evidence for the girls to make further fun on us. I stayed there trying to compose myself – lost and helpless, before my boss joined in and smiled at me, pretended nothing has happened, it was just a game. I was hurt.

As much as I wanted to forget my first innocent & naïve gay experience many donkey years ago, it just never gets out of the jar. I was surprised to bump into him in the mall today.

He was alone, formally dressed; showing many signs of aged man in their successful prime, but his fatherly figure remained intact. We crossed path and locked eyes. I tried to initiate a smile but was treated with oblivion. I swallowed it complete, stinging like salt on my old wound of shame. A fag, now fagger, with plight tainted by many dicks from different men over the years, still wandering for love in the mall, do not deserve a second look from a man he once love or knew. I took a last glimpse of his back but he never looked back. I darted into the torrent of tropical rain, soaked and senseless, waited impatiently for any bus that could bring me out of his shadow. Running away in a dream of guilt and pain – for the second time.

This midnight owl, burrowed under the cover of the night, bewailing the speed of time and his stupidity to try love. There is no moon for me to cry tonight.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

There will be two phenomena happening this week. The spirit of the fantasy mountain send wind to my ears to tell me my dreamed mountain is borned for beautiful creatures fair and fine. It advised me to consider giving up my dream since I am just an exhausted wild bird not suited to high territory. If I insisted on taking the road less trodden, I might have to look for sign of a single bright star that may appear this Monday night. If the star send a ray of light on the tree where I nested, the door of the fantasy mountain shall awaits my arrival regardless how long I take to get there. Monday on the tree was windy; I held tightly in the deepest shadow of the night, eyes brightly lit and anxiously waited till the sun rises. The sky was clear, no star, I was disheartened. Not a single whisper came from the mountain again.

However I still need to cross the river to the other side of the forest. I will be toasted completely if I didn’t succeed. Half my feathers were burned while thinking and waiting for opportunity. In early February, I saw a woodpecker drumming on tree that stood beside the river. On closer look, the trees look old but tall with juicy worms that fed its hollow trunk. The woodpecker drew them out diligently and I wished the tree could collapse immediately and became a sturdy bridge across the river. The forlornless of this owl could not escape the eyes of the pecking bird but I tried not to appear desperate. I casually joked about the tree losing its support at the rate the pecker was drilling in. He spoke with confident the tree has rotten to the core and will eventually fall towards end of Febuary. .

Today is the 2nd day for the tree to crash and I can’t help to exert more weight on it with my body, tap it with my wings, and placed my ears closer for hope, but no sound. The tree doesn’t seem to budge. Can the woodpecker be trusted? Only strong wind and heavy rain will provide the answer this week, otherwise this miserable owl may have to throw himself against the tree with full force.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

The woodpecker was right, the tree finally moved last Friday but it didn’t creak and collapse. Instead it lifted its root and nudged me: “Hey birdie, why are you sleeping under my tree?” I looked up hopefully: “aren’t you going to fall?” The tree looked hesitant: “Yes my trunk is empty and I am about to fall anytime soon this week but…..”

I interrupted and look desperate, self-reproaching: “the fantasy mountain has shut its door on me last Monday, no stars...” I can see the tree now withdrawing itself and keeping quiet about what it wanted to tell me before I interrupted.

It spoke again: “Owl, I have watched over you since you were a little chick fresh from egg and you have impressed me as you grew older, learning to build nest, with little tricks here and there. I can understand why you needed to cross the river and so are many other creatures out there trying to escape this burning forest. But, I am too weak to save more lives than I have wished to do so, I can only allow one animal to cross the river before I get washed away by the raging river. I really wanted to help you but…..” I was disappointed by the word BUT, and retorted in angst: “because I am a wild bird like what the wind spirit of the mountain has said earlier and you too believe it and won’t save me?”

The old tree was quick to defend: “Midnight owl, do not misunderstand me. I am no spirit of the fantasy mountain and I am colorblind to all creatures. You are one of the most beautiful birds I have ever seen regardless of your color. I have actually thought of you favorably when I considered saving a life. But there is a problem which needs further explanations to other creatures to justify why you should be saved… “.

I was begging: “what problem? I will change if you think I have caused many problems here. I promised to be good and non trouble-maker if you could help me cross the river. I will scatter your seeds wherever I journeyed thereafter. I swear……” The tree lowered its crown and used its twig to hold my broken wing; I gave out a faint hoot, than he whispered: “Dearest birdie, the problem is not you but the forest and other creatures that put tremendous pressure on my decision…..” When the tree saw my puzzled face and big luminous eyes welled up, it stopped talking and never talked again.

Suddenly a gush of wind blew across the treetop and snowed its dead leaves over me; it formed into a word on the forest floor: ‘gay’.

I clawed on the bark of the silent tree and cried over the reason………

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 4 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

Life has been hard on me, so I went out to seek breather with much reluctance fearing the straight crowds in my life. Somehow, I ended in Popular bookshop, aimlessly fiddled with stationeries but something sharp pricked into my eyes. It was not an accident from some pointed objects but bright glittering stones, flaring from a young woman’s finger. She lifted her ring finger, empress dowager style, swaying from shelve to shelve showing off her expensive diamonds, big and small, massively covered around the ring. Its cut was so fine that it turned light into flame, drawing envy from anyone who stood by and even the blind are not spared. I tried to avoid her but she kept intruding into my space, pulling along a baby pram with an oversized child, of a 3-year old, couched within. Just as I feared, its wheel rammed on my foot and the woman did not utter a word of apology when I made a soft “ouch” before her. She ignored me completely.

To prove disgust came in different form, the child sprung up suddenly, took a black marker from one of the pen slots and started to scribble on the acrylic display cabinet. The woman did not stop him from making graffiti. I almost choked myself and have to make a soft cough of disapproval. However, she took issue with me by asking me to cover my mouth for her hygiene, I ignored her too. Her husband appeared from nowhere, not as stunning looking as her wife’s diamond. He wore a gold plated watch and has his top shirt unbuttoned, exposed red rashes around his wrinkled neck, like an allergic alcoholic freak or a drug addict needing help. All of a sudden, I thought this straight couple matched perfectly for each other, well compensated for my imbalance gay life or the wife’s rudeness. I would rather pawn that expensive diamond to bail a handsome man than to keep it with an ugly husband. When I saw that woman mumbled to her husband with eyes in my direction, I chickened out like an owl weakened under daylight.

I came to another place more earthly, an aquarium shop. I though it would be safe and peaceful with fishes and plants as companion, I was wrong because other desire took control of me. I was riveted by a handsome man in his 30s who squatted with his wide crotch showcased while he was viewing the lower aquarium tanks. The white Bermuda tightened by his posture, balls lopped and fighting for space beaneath it, one squeezed up like a ball on the left, rubbing off the other behind it. On its right, with a faint starting point, a firm tool lolled sideway touching his inner thigh. The “white aisle” formed between the ball and tool became my perfect visual strolling spot, wishing I have all the time in it before it started to change path or disappear completely when he stood up. An immediate thought came into my mind, since I cannot have my meal and eat it; I wanted to steal its menu for memento. I flipped my hand phone camera with much hesitant, fearing what might happened to me like those professional upskirt photographers and partly the thick crowd was an obstacle between the owl and its prey, I left the scene with the python and its egg unmolested.

Suppressed by all the happenings, I invited myself to the sauna and had my ass humped left, right and center for some relief, to the extend I dreamt I was pregnant and rushed to the clinic proudly telling the nurse my tummy has grown a fair bit. Mixed with anxiety and joy in my sleep, I woke up feeling fresh again. All that has happened during the day squared off when the light is off and I have my whole world again when the moon is out. *hoot!*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 4 weeks later...
Guest Midnight Owl

I am bored and sometime just clearing tonne of junk or Spam mails became a simple pleasure – so to speak – because you see people making great effort to write something nobody care to read let alone respond to it. I carefully picked one which I believe came from china (A USD30,5000,000 business proposal) with his personal email attached. Finally this owl finds something naughty to play at midnight...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Mr Cheng

I am writing with regard to your business proposal but before you reply, let me tell you about my story and you decide whether you want me to be part of your million dollars business plan.

I am a bankrupt and currently living from hands to mouth. I am temporary putting up under my relative 2-room flat until further notice from the landlord. I earned my livelihood collecting discarded items people threw away in town and than sell those illegally in places subjected to occasional police raid. Sometime I was caught for being an unlicensed peddler, which I can ill afford to pay for the fine. Thus I landed in short-term imprisonment a couple of times and where at least some free meals were provided before being released and continued with my secret hawking again.

I was brought up by family with limited means and was molested, by wealthier neighbor kids, in exchange for some buns when I have nothing to eat. They loved touching my dick when I was little. I was an unwanted child until a pastor took me out of pity. When I became a teenager, I had my first sex with the pastor’s friend, a man I loved. I was betrayed by a trusted guy and chased out into the street again.

Two years ago, I ventured into a dangerous journey of serving men, which slightly improves my source of income to pay for my current rent. It became my regular job, sucking white collar worker's cock for $10 minimum and sometime gets paid for as low as $5 if they are blue collar workers. If I am lucky, I managed to serve 3 customers within a day or get myself fxxked for $50, with condom or higher price without condom, whichever the negotiation went in the red-light district. I loved being fxxked, because the money was good and side tips can be generous.

Such income is enough to tie me over for a couple of days in Singapore high cost of livings. I know my job is risky, not only it subjected myself to possible diseases but our Singapore penal code is intolerant to people of my gay behavior and the penalty can be as harsh as most serious crime committed here.

When I saw your proposal of $30mil business plan. I was skeptical but with my predicament I was thrilled by such opportunity of becoming a millionaire. No risk, no gain because I have no other decent route to pursue better life or at least get me out of my poverty cycle. My only bank account was frozen because I was sued by a heartless credit card company for owing them $300 which I spend a day in hospital after a client, china businessman, sexually abused me and caused a hairline crack on my shoulder plate.

I paced up and down looking at your mail dozen times but I trust you will have some brilliant proposal that can save me and provide me am opportunity to lead a better life. If you wanted me to play Annabel Chong role in gangbang sex movie, I have no qualm accepting such offer. I heard she made handful of wealth being a pxxn star and lived a luxurious life. I have ever thought of wanting to go into pxxn industry in America or Japan....well anyway that is just a thought when I started having sex with my first man and feeling good after that.

My income (if any) is not sufficient to pay for my internet subscription thus I am now reaching out to you from an internet cafe because I was extremely excited about your million dollars proposal.

I earnestly await your reply

Yours sincerely.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Will this owl get his million dollar sympathy cheque from a stranger? You never know.. *tongue-in-cheek*

*hoot*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Guest locked this topic
  • G_M unlocked this topic
Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

×
×
  • Create New...