Hilaw

2:33 a.m.

Ano ito, bubot na insomnia? Sobrang aga naman, pati mga kuliglig eh inaantok pa. Binuksan ko kung sa'n ko huling naiwan ang You Can't Go Home Again, ang nobela ni Thomas Wolfe na di ko matapos-tapos. Pa'no super-analytical siya: huminga ka lang nang malalim, ilang paragraphs na ang observation niya tungkol diyan. Pag nangulangot ka pa -- nakuh! -- ididiskurso ang chemical composition nito, texture, historical and ethical significance, kung dapat mga ba bilugin muna bago pitikin o ialok muna sa sweetheart mo as keepsake. Masarap pasadahan yung mga kuro-kuro niya, pero nakaka-drain yung overload. Kung na-discover ko sana si Wolfe nung bata pa ako, three sitting lang tapos na ito. FYI: 576 pages ito, P95 kong nabili sa Book Sale, may mga kagat ng pusa sa gilid. Ok lang, cute naman at naglalambing lang ang mga baby ni Mau.

2:51

Isa sa mga heavyweight writers si Wolfe. Parang mas sikat yung una niyang obra, yungLook Homeward, Angel (na iniwan ko somewhere sa gitna). As usual, kung magaling ka at marami pang iaalay sa planetang ito, patay kang bata ka. 37 lang siya nung 1938 nang tinamaan ng miliary tuberculosis yung utak niya. Tsugi.

Itutuloy next insomnia...

Rex: 2001-2012

Rex when we were both healthy. He always had more hair.

Rex, belonging to that big and gentle Chow Chow breed, was capable of harming a fly, though not intentionally, and he was probably not aware of the nature of his deed. One afternoon years ago I looked out the door at the open garage, and just in time I saw Rex chomp down on a pesky fly that had been buzzing around his head for hours; the remains of the fly, cut in half, made crazy spirals down to the cement floor. That's one of the main memories that comes to mind when I think of Rex, who this morning passed away at the vererable age of 11.

We don't know if it's the debilitatingly hot weather or if it's Rex's deteriorating health that caused him to succumb to a heat stroke Thursday night. When Leena arrived home at about 9 p.m. Thursday, she found Rex lying on his side on the cement floor of the garage. Several ice packs were hurriedly placed all over his body to lower his temperature and to steady his labored breathing. When it seemed Rex was out of immediate danger, Leena placed an emergency call to Russell, who has been a reliable and capable vet to our five Chows and 20-plus cats.

After assessing Rex's condition, Russell gave him an injection to lower his body temperature to less than 39.4, which he said was dangerously critical. Earlier, I went cold when I noticed that Rex had involuntarily emptied the content of his stomach by vomiting and voiding: signs that the defensive system of his body had gone on full alert, abandoning the digestive system to sustain Rex's faltering cardiovascular system. When Rex's breathing returned to normal level, we kept a watchful eye on him while Leena discussed with Russell the medicines required. It was almost midnight when Russsell left, dropping off Melay and Marilyn to the Mercury branch near Munoz Market to buy the medicines.

Leena hardly slept that night, going to the garage to keep watch over Rex. Early Friday morning Leena decided to take Rex to Animal House, the pet hospital in Cubao. Blood tests, ECG, X-rays, and other tests were performed on Rex. Old age caught up with our old pet, who through the years had unobtrusively led a quiet existence at the garage, enjoying a treat of chicken once in a while, greeting Leena when she arrived home from office. That Thursday night he was not able to approach her.

So life went on at home on Friday, although we were aware that one mainstay of our lives was missing, fighting for a life made feeble by age and illness. But we dared not dwell on the fact that hope was not an option in this case. If it was just a matter of time, then time could flow on along its stoical way as we gather fortitude for when reality descends. It descended this morning. And it's Leena's birthday today. If it should be considered a gift that Rex's suffering was mercifully ended, so be it.

It's a terrible thing to learn late in life that death, like life, can be a gift.

 Leena with Rex through puppyhood and cuddlyhood.

***
The following is Leena's message to wellwishers on her birthday:

To my friends, fellow cat and animal lovers who remembered me today, A VERY BIG THANK YOU! I am sorry that it took time before I could respond. I had to bring our beloved Rex home from the hospital and arrange a small, solemn funeral. Perhaps Rex wanted me to remember him whenever I celebrate my birthday, that's why he chose this day to say goodbye. I was hoping that he could still spend some moreyears with us, but as the vet said, he is already a super senior Chow. He is only 11 years old, and now that he's gone I ask myself where did the years go? It seems only yesterday when he was an adorable, huggable puppy. Time does fly. To the most handsome chow in the world, until we play again. We will miss you Rex.

Mr. Moonlight, Spock, Beatles atbp

3:00 a.m.

Spock: Sleep long and proper

Ang galing. Saktong alas tres ka ngayon, Mr. Moonlight. Biblical ito. (Namputsang ba't di nung Holy Week ako ginising sa ganitong topak, este, topic? Anyway, whatever. Insomnia na nga, nagrereklamo pa.)

Anong oras namatay si Kristo? Siyempre ang response agad diyan eh alas tres.

Umaga o hapon? Konting kamot ng ulo, tapos makikita mo sa ngiti ng biktimang intervewee ang pagsindi ng lightbulb sa itaas ng ulo niya -- Ting! 

Hapon!

Are you sure? 

Oo naman, kaya alas tres inililibing ang mga tao ngayon, di ba?

3:15

Sabi ni Matthew sa New Testament, mga alas nuebe na nang gabi nang   marinig ang pagsamo ni Jesus mula sa krus: "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" Ibig sabihin nito sa English: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" At ilang saglit pa at pumanaw na si Jesus.

Ayan, kung gusto niyong sumunod, 9 p.m. kayo magpalibing -- sa dilim. Awooooh!

3:40

Imaginary conversation (Ganyan talaga sa insomnia, hahagilap ka sa hangin ng kausap):

"Ano ang lengguwahe ni Jesus? Yung "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" -- anong salita yon?"

"Ayoko ko nga! Trick question na naman yan. Hindi pala alas tres namatay, di na lang sabihin agad. Dami pa namang inililibing nang alas tres hanggang ngayon. Hmmmp! Bumili ka ng kausap."

"Aysus, kasalanan ko ba kung dispalinghado ang hunghang na species natin - mali na lagi habang nabubuhay, mali pa rin hanggang huling hantungan. O sige na, anong language ni Jesus? Ibili kita ng ice cream pag nakuha mo ang sagot c'',) "

"E di Latin. Di ba nakasalin sa Latin ang mga Bible noon? Ayan! Double Dutch bilhin mo ha?"

"Pa'no yung mga Bible na Hebrew? Di ba Hebrew kung magbalitaktakan sina Moses at ang mga matitigas na ulong kasama niyang naligaw ng landas sa disyerto?"

"Oo nga, hehe. Hebrew! Yan ang sagot ko. Hebrew! Final answer!"

"Actually, parang Aramaic ang salita sa Nazareth. You know, Jesus of Nazareth. Aramaic ang salita sa Barangay Nazareno."

"Basta! Di ka pupunta sa langit."

4:22

Ah, langit, the Final Frontier, to boldly go where no man has gone before, this is the starship Enterprise... Buti pa ang mga santo, may promo ticket to Heaven agad, non-transferable (dahil baka ibenta? O makasalanang diwa! Magtika, magtika!)

Pag-akyat mo sa Stairway to Heaven sasalubungin ka ni St. Peter, yung may tandang. (Di kaya may Freudian association dito? Peter. Cock. Bad thought, erase! Erase!)

St. Peter: "Yes? May I help you?"

Spock: "Gatekeeper, any Klingon in there?"

St. Peter (tingin sa ledger): "Wala, meyn, puro santo lang nasa VIP lounge today, meyn. You know any santo?"

Spock: "I know a St. Paul..."

St. Peter: "Puwede. Merong St. Paul's Cathedral. Meron ding St. Paul College na puno ng magagandang college chix..."

Spock: "Then there's St. John..."

St. Peter: "Hmm... John the Baptist, check. Kakosang John of the Gospel, aprub. John and Marsha?!"

Spock: "St. George..."

St. Peter: "Let me see... Kasama ba rito yun? Dragonslayer... princess saver..."

Spock: "And St. Ringo?"

St. Peter: "Ay, anak ka ng Vulcan ka, matulog ka na nga!"

4:57

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

St. Paul, St. Ringo?!

Project Insomnia

3:46 a.m.
Mainit, pero hindi ako pinagpapawisan dahil nasasapinan ng konting lamig ang dilim. Sabi ni Leena maginaw sa labas, ang sarap nga at nararamdaman niya mula sa bintana. Nagkumot pa. Ako naman parang gusto kong paikutin yung electric fan para dagdagan pa ng konting timpla ang lamig. Ganyan kami: Pag pinagpapawisan siya at binubuksan ang electric fan, ako ay nakabalot na ng kumot para di magyelo ang mga paa. Ang sagwa naman kung ma-frostbite ako dito sa polluted na sulok ng Project 8.

4:15
Walang Project 9. Di rin alam ni Leena kung bakit walang Project 1 saka Project 5. Alam kong may Project 6 -- doon kami galing; lumipat kami dito sa Project 8 mga pitong taon na. Ang ganda ng pangalan ng barangay namin: Bahay Toro. May Tandang Sora sa ibang parte ng QC, Holy Spirit, Libis, Imelda, pero dito kami sa Bahay Toro. Yey. Project 7 yung malapit sa SM North EDSA at Trinoma. Project 3 kina Elvie; sa paskel ng mga jeep may Proj. 2 at Proj. 4. Kinurakot siguro yung dalawang Project nang walang nakabantay na auditor. Ala namang umaangal, kaya ok lang.

4:40
Tahimik na ang mga kuliglig sa ganitong oras. Palagay ko nakahanap na sila ng partner at nag-o-orgy na sa maliit na sulok nilang Sodom at Gomorrah sa hardin ng kapitbahay. Yung tuko nila, ilang araw nang di naririnig yung nakatutuwang birit na "TUK-o!" "TUK-o!" Status symbol na ang tuko magmula nang kinikidnap sila ng mga smuggler para ibenta ng libo-libong dollar sa mga dayuhan. Aphrodisiac daw ito, para makatayo ang lampang bayang magiliw ng mga maniac na hindi na makasali sa sex festival ng mga makasalanang kuliglig. Biro mo, ang kikitaing dollars ng isang tuko ay mahigit pa sa ilang taong kayod ng isang caregiver o teacher-naging-housemaid abroad. Iba talaga ang kita pag may Project Sex.

5:14
Nagiging corny na ako. Makatulog na nga. Thank you, Lyrica. Bless you, Ribotril. Antay ka lang Thyrax, maya ka pa. Tritase, Thrombosil, pagkatapos ng almusal pa kayo, kayong mga personal kong perlas ng silanganan. Yeah, ang mamatay nang dahil sa inyo, baby. Gud morning, Liwayway, bumuka ka na.

Zzzzzzzz...

Bulabog

The moon is lunatic,

Sending beams to break my sleep.

Ay, buwan, tinimbang ka ngunit kulang,

Di mo ba alam, insomniac ako, hunghang!

-- William the Henry

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

3:04 a.m.
Gising na naman ako. Inaantok pa ako, pero alas tres at ilang baryang minuto na ng umaga, kaya ano pa -- sige nga! -- gising na ako. Ngayon, ano naman ang gagawin ko? Magbasa? Pumipikit pa ang mga mata ko, ayaw lang akong patuluging muli.

3:11
Lagi na lang ganito araw-araw: Pagpatak ng ilang minuto lampas alas tres ng madilim pang umaga ay babasagin na ang tulog ko, ke may panaginip, ke puyat na nga, bubulabugin pa rin ako para (1) Makita ang dilim? (Para maisip kong oxymoronic ang sabihing makita ang hindi naman makikita? Makikipagtalo ba ako sa sarili ko? Aysus!) (2) Marinig ang malilibog na mga kuliglig na sumasabay sa ingay ng ikot ng electric fan? (3) Ala lang, trip-trip lang?!

3:34
Ayaw pa ring tumalab ang Lyrica. Sabayan ko na kaya ng katapyas na Ribotril? Pero sabi nung doctor medyo bawas-bawasan ko na itong Ribotril dahil kumapit na ito sa sistema ko. Kaya nga strictly prescriptive, nakaka-addict kasi. Kalahati na nga lang ang iniinom ko, tatawagin pa akong addict. Nakakaasar. Eh si Ampatuan -- yung mas bata, yung mukhang unggoy na berdugo -- siguro kung umupak ng Ribotril ay parang mani lang. Ba't naman di makatulog ang hinayupaks na diablong yun? Ala namang kunsiyensiya. Saka paanong naging mayor yun? Ay tanga! Kung si unanong Gloria at Zubiri eh naibraso yung mga boto, ang sarili pa kaya? Matulog ka na nga!

4:03
Zzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Cute pets: bottomless appetite, thick hides. P500/pair.