Cat Dies Alone on New Year's Eve

The Dead Cat (encircled)

This has been quite an eventful new year's eve. There I was - December 31, 2015 at around 11:45 PM enjoying myself as fireworks begin to light up the night skies, slowly intensifying as the last minutes of 2015 dwindle down to zero. I did my share of producing irresponsible amounts of noise accompanied by clouds of dense suffocating smoke with my 4 sets of lebentador (only donated, by the way). At a distance, I see a neighbor light up the skies with a 10-minute display of fancy fireworks - the likes could rival the ones they have in SM or Ayala - which probably cost him/her around half a million pesos (ugh, some people got money to burn). It's deeply humiliating to be standing in awe of the fancy display of lights while holding cheap, unsafe, and ultimately earth-bound firecrackers. I initially had second thoughts about whether or not I should bother lighting them, but I did and its puniness amused me.

But this post is not about cheap-vs-expensive firecrackers or the new year's eve revelry. This is about a cat. A dead one. Right about the time I lit the last set of firecrackers, I noticed something by the gutter right outside the house. There he was (or a she? I wasn't sure) lying lifeless by the drainage. At first I thought it was a simple case of roadkill - someone had run the poor thing over and left it for dead. But I did not see blood nor guts splattered anywhere. Then I thought this must be some elaborate prank by drunk neighbors visiting houses and throwing carcasses of dead animals by their gates for a laugh. It's the new year after all, and some people think normal rules of etiquette don't apply during these few hours of mayhem. But nope, not the case either.

I tried poking the thing with my slipper - no movement. Tried again, just to be sure (I had no plans of starting the year with rabies). Still no movement. I poked its tail with my fingers... and again... now twiddling it. Still no movement. I tried looking at its face. Its eyes were wide open with a bit of glimmer in them, and the carcass looked fresh - no odor, no ants nor anything feasting upon it. I was now sure this poor thing died only moments earlier, and I had to move it before it starts emanating an ungodly stink. I wasn't excited to get my hands on a fairly large dead and decomposing mammal right before the obligatory new year's eve meal, but I had no choice. I squeamishly grabbed and lifted the thing by its tail (by the way, it was surprisingly heavy; and its limbs were already stiff), hauled it across the road to a nearby cliff and threw it down below. Minutes later, I washed my hands and ate hotdog on a bun - with tomato ketchup.

It's now around 20 hours since our paths crossed (me and the dead cat, that is) and I still can't stop thinking about what caused its death. My best guess is it was probably poisoned from rummaging through our neighbor's trash - which was several yards away from the crime scene. Or maybe it was bitten by a poisonous snake (which is even worse). The CCTV footage was no help - it only showed the cat's last moments before death. The cat definitely came from the neighbor's heap of trash- it hastily ran from it and right to our front gate (9:31 PM). It then began its dance of death - squirming, crawling. Very spastic at first but gradually slowing down to a halt. It took 12 minutes before it finally succumbed.

The video footage can be seen below:

To the cat: 

I am deeply sorry you had to perish so close to the new year (December 31, 2015 at 9:43 PM) and I can't help but notice you were alone when you did. I hope you are running freely in cat heaven by now, rummaging through heavenly trash with your friends without any danger of being bitten by those darned poisonous snakes. I'm sorry that you had to endure ten minutes of agony. Honestly, if I found you spazzing out, I would've been too much of a chicken to do anything anyway. But I hope you find comfort that in an ideal world - where I'm unafraid of untamed rabid animals - I would've euthanized you by uh... I don't know. Strangling you? (There weren't any shovels nearby.)

I know it's useless to cry over spilled milk. Perhaps you just had to go out the way you did. I hope I wasn't too brash and insensitive by just throwing your carcass down the cliff like that (I was panicking). I hope your fall was softened by the thick bushes below. And finally, I hope your decomposing body provided much needed sustenance to the various insects and critters that inhabit the vicinity close to your grave - thereby completing the circle of life.

Rest in peace, cat.

Your frightened friend,
Dave

Ruby Sparks: Why Not?

What I'm trying to say is it's almost like I'm writing to spend time with her.

Who?

The girl. The one I'm writing... I go to sleep at night just waiting to get to my typewriter again so I can be with her. It's like... It's like I'm falling in love with her.

That's wonderful.

No it's not. I can't fall in love with a girl I wrote.

Why not?

Because she's not real!

Isn't she?

No.

Are you sure?

Yes! She's a motherfucking product of my imagination!

The Fantasy

If you haven't seen the movie Ruby Sparks, you have to go see it. This particular exchange between the main character, Calvin, and his shrink was so compelling. I'm more so amused with the shrink's reaction - why can't you fall in love with a girl you wrote? Why isn't it okay to do so? Followed by the quick retort: because she's not real. The irony about the whole thing is, people do it all the time. They fall in love with their own imaginations and the idea of the "perfect person".

The thing is, it's become quite the phobia for people who've ventured into idealizing love at least once in their lives. They've rewired themselves not to make the same mistake twice, or else risk summoning the familiar world of confusion and, ultimately, heartache all over again. Once they feel themselves being pulled into this wormhole, they stop, take a step back, re-evaluate and investigate their emotions further before taking the plunge. It should be real, first and foremost. It has to be.

The shrink's take is amusing though. Why not? Why does it have to be real? What's wrong with fantasy? Vulnerability? Stupidity? Why would you want to miss out on the chance to be confused and miserable? Partaking in it is an opportunity to celebrate life as it is joyful and colorful as much as it is a mess of confusion, sadness, and misery. Do it!

We may forever be slaves to the lessons of reality, but it's a fascinating stand regardless - to be consciously masochistic just to feel the elation of falling in love - however misplaced it might be - or perhaps just to feel anything at all.

The Shrink

Uplifting Aggressive Fix - Progressive Metal (Playlist)

Credits to the owner.

The inspiration behind this goes way back to the mid 2000s - I was feeling a bit down and begged everyone on a message board to make me an "Uplifting Rock" playlist. A couple of people were kind enough to oblige, one in particular sent me a ZIP file with tracks, ranging from folk to metal, already in order / sorted out.

This is my attempt to return the favor to whoever needs it (appropriately overdue by 10 years or so), albeit in a more aggressive, prog metal form. (This is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, sorry.)

1. Begin - Intervals
2. Where Are The Birds - Good Tiger
3. Sweet Tea - Polyphia
4. Automaton - Intervals
5. Coming For You - Twelve Foot Ninja
6. Next In Line - Dead Letter Circus
7. Language I - Intuition - The Contortionist
8. Erised - Periphery
9. Allure - Skyharbor
10. Wanderlust - Every Time I Die
11. Strawberry Swisher pt. 3 - Dance Gavin Dance
12. Have A Blast - Bulb
13. One Step - Dead Letter Circus
14. Seven Names - TesseracT
15. New Day - Karnivool

Made a Youtube playlist for your convenience. Enjoy.

Rewind: Want

I once was content and grateful for the gift of vision. I indulged in admiration of whichever was presented before me, though I know not everything is pleasing to the eye. So I'd like to think I hide behind my beloved wall where two holes are conveniently placed for a peeping tom, me, so I could easily veer off into the darkness when I see something I didn't want to see, or see something staring back at me - to avoid the awkwardness.  For a brief period of time, this "control" mechanic was more than enough entertainment. I wasn't that picky, and I relatively led a simple life.

But now I hunger for a more sophisticated distraction. I am, after all, human. So I forced the turning of the page of this bored stillness to a much lively and interesting curiosity. I now stand before a world governed not by sight, but by touch. The touch of curiosity, fascination, and a desire well-thought of. One hand over the flames of an exquisite candle, my Loch Ness monster, I feel it sting. Blisters begin to swell, but no matter how many times I tell myself to quit, I remain gullible - because at the end of the day, I know the reward is worth the risk.

- April 18, 2008

Listening to

"Forrest Gump" - Frank Ocean

Rewind: Rats

2007 with Jogalz and Maloy

My head is at a stand still, and it's utterly depressing. It does its routinary escapes here and there, but nothing of real interest seems to happen anymore... not today nor yesterday. Not ever since my apex. Wait. I think I do remember something... Ah yes, it was a dream I had yesterday.

I dreamt about eating a sandwich with a live rat inside. It tasted funny with the first bite, and I looked inside in confusion. And there he was- the little black critter, laying still like nobody's business, with whiskers on a constant subtle bob. Up-down-up-down -up-down... I thought he was trying to be cute. Without thinking, I jerked the lettuce he seemed to be nestled on and with perfect rodent reflexes, he jumped out of the sandwich and scampered across the room to a nearby door. The little thing startled me so bad that I dropped my defiled sandwich. A few minutes later, I found out I was eating his excrements.

With this quality of entertainment, who needs to think?

- September 23, 2008

At the time, it seemed like an appropriate filler post for a day in dire need of fillers.

Listening to

"Pop Thieves" - Childish Gambino

Unfinished Noodling

I recently found this lying around in my external hard drive. I did this in 2013, but was never able to finish it. I thought I might as well just render the thing and share, lest it be forever lost and forgotten.

Speaking of noodling, I think I've had several other 'projects' in the works that never got to see the light of day. Dub me the unfinisher. I think I've a knack of boring myself when it comes to my own creative pursuits. Or - if I'm being completely honest - I've set pretty ridiculous standards for myself that ultimately only cripples my creativity and my drive to 'share' these things.

Be more forgiving, I've been telling myself for the past few years - and it seems I'm making progress! Because here I am - sharing. :)


Listening to
"Cages" - Tesseract

Rewind: Fuel

On a completely unrelated note (as usual), here I am forever blowing bubbles with family. Happy Birthday Hayley! :)

I let my thoughts run wild until everything smiles at me. The smiles of hope, I figure, and I'm very much seduced - but only for a moment until I involuntarily let loose the restless cynic that has long taken residence in me. It indulges with a hearty appetite, and fascination gets the better of me each time, unable to retaliate. I lie still in awe, watching as it single-handedly turns this utopia upside down. Cruel but careful. Healthy. Sane. Just... it claims.

But this utopia remains an unsatisfied drug, and it naturally finds a place where cynicism cannot destroy it, and find it does. It becomes fuel for dreams. And in my sleep I blissfully get intoxicated - its warmth hauntingly addictive. It's a good few hours of unperturbed bliss, but it hurts like a nasty hang-over when I wake up. And as I sit and wipe my eyes, I greet this cruel consciousness like a close friend. Fair-weathered and caring as it may present itself to be. Me and my careful compromise.

- March 26, 2008

Listening to

"In The Waiting Line" - Zero 7

Rewind: This Weather is Strange

Some time in 2007, I was waiting for Kaskade to come out.

This weather is strange. See it relentlessly whip lightning after lightning behind the congregation of clouds, and the howls of thunder chanting back and forth from the farthest edges of the dark sky. This must be armageddon, and I feel the dread of fear embrace me like a black veil. The world it wreaks havoc on lays still and helpless perhaps to show respect and awe. Fear before the power of what once was calm and dormant - somehow angered by forces unknown. And little by little, the leaves start to make the music of rain. 

I can still see the flashes of light from the corner of my eye. There's an eerie chill to how the drapes sway back and forth in rhythm with the east wind that comes every now and then. I refuse to face the window head on out of fear- but there's this warmth that stirs inside me, like a child being called by its mother. Suddenly, I knew why it was angry. Or isn't. It calls for me. I obey.

- May 2, 2008

Here I go again - being weird one late night. According to what's been written above, it was raining that night. (duh)

Listening to

"The Way I Feel" by Matt Wertz

Cover: "Nowhere Fast" Incubus

I've been listening to Make Yourself for the longest time but only now decided to learn the guitar parts to some of the other songs. This one is from Nowhere Fast. I recorded some other covers at the time but I just had to squeeze this in there really quickly in just one take (screwed up several times, but no biggie).

Rewind: I Sit

Baby Tingkagol in 2005.

I refuse to fall down. I sit. Though every bone in my body aches, and giving in to closing these heavy eyes to a night's worth of fleeting slumber is too inviting - I choose to sit. I wouldn't know why, but I remain stubborn; refusing to let the natural forces beckon me, all the while feeling a twisted sense of power that I've somehow defied some primeval law of nature. I pride myself. Here's a guy who thinks he knows what he's doing. But I don't. Yet all my senses are sparked.

Maybe I wanted to get a better grip of the few inanimate figures big and small sprawled before me - or simply wanting to hear the rustling answer of the dead leaves to the wind. I think to myself... maybe. I gradually begin to pick things out bit by bit - like how cold the wind is, or if these leaves would easily become the flame from my lighter - or would the wind allow it? I don't know. All I know is that they're here for me as strange pacifiers, and we lazily let time pass under the faint glow of the stars, granting us permission to indulge and simply be.

Such seductive power. And like the rising tide, my self-awareness and conceit rises with every scar and crevice in my body introducing themselves as if they were childhood friends. But just as the tide recedes, I realize that I'm in the shadows, sitting on a tightrope with the vast emptiness lurking underneath, refusing to fall. I try hard not to, until something banishes the shadows with light. Love, perhaps? Maybe.

- March 12, 2008