A different definition of Mandy Moore.

Mandy Moore is one of the artists closest to my heart. Well, not that we met. The closest thing I had with her is when my boss went to New York and fits some shoes beside her. LOL. Anyway, she’s one of my favorite in the big screen since the era of “A Walk to Remember” happened. After that heart-breaking film with Shane West, I’ve watch almost, if not all, her movies.

But Mandy Moore was redefined in my mind. By a semi-guy and a semi-girl person who calls himself, “Mandaya Moore”. And because I am such a big dreamer thinking I have international readers, here’s my brief explanation: Gays in the Philippines usually have “code names”, usually a paradox of Hollywood actors/actresses.

Well, you see. Mandaya’s blog is a tale of his life with his friends in a farm (Bukid) and it shows how simple life is. He also had so many boyfriends in between but he had a love of his life in a code name of “Kulot” (Curls). But, here’s the catch: No one know the real identity of Mandaya. He never had pictures on his blog or any personal information aside from his love life. His blog is pure Tagalog, but if you’re a Filipino and you read it, you’ll notice how good he is at writing. He sounds intellectual and well-educated. He stopped blogging in 2011 with no apparent reason but his blog is still up and alive until now.

I’ve been thinking to myself, what have I learned from Mandaya’s tale of events. As you all know me, I want to point out some realizations. But, there’s no moral of the story. It’s just a tale, a glimpse of a life of a homosexual person living in a semi-charmed life.

But, one of his posts did move me: About his OFW father. After reading that certain post, I remembered my mom.  And how I treated her badly for the past few days (unintentionally). I suddenly missed her and I saw how I always deny that I don’t hate her but deep down, maybe I do. It may also be the reason why I can’t leave all my pains—I do not consider the fact that maybe, there’s a side of me I don’t know. That I’m angry. Somehow.

Years ago, every day before I go to sleep I e-mail my mom and ask how her day’s been. Every single day, every single night. It stopped, I don’t know when and a huge gap filled in between us. She didn’t even know my cellphone number for I didn’t give her (I forgot!!). And so, maybe, Mandaya moved me in that OFW post. I e-mailed my mom and hope she replies and somehow, this relationship turns out good. I don’t want to end up in Fiona’s (Mandaya’s friend) situation when his mom got comatose and later on died. No, I don’t want that.





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