Nocturnal Visitors

Sleepless night.

Sartre came with a bottle of brandy. From the house of Pedro Domeq, I like to believe. I prepared and served grilled cured tapas--a product of my inquisitive mind and something that he won't find nauseating. By and by, Camus' Facel Vega parked rather dramatically on the road shoulder in front of my house. With him was rather an unusual companion--Sisyphus who is still burdened with a load of rock! So I stood up and produced two extra glasses for the new arrival. "Wow! What a company I have tonight," I said to myself.  I wonder how will it be if Nietzsche and Prometheus join us.

The beauty of being human is that one can always reconsider, take time out, socialize, recreate, wait and see for things to manifest themselves.  The quality of something is best tested by time. Wine for instance. But tapas, oh you have it consumed while it is still warm. Otherwise, Sartre will vomit it with the diluted ale. And oh, forget about the Facel Vega and try counting the times Sisyphus climbed the hill with his rock on his back.

Sleepless night indeed.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Something About Tumbo (Cara y Cruz): A Hypothesis

Image
They say that mahjong is just a diversion, a recreation of some sort of the bored and the retired. But they say that cara y cruz is a different case. However you look at it--in both sides of the coin (pun intended), it is gambling and therefore those who indulged in it (read, the poor ones) are playing in conflict with law. And so, since yesteryears, people accepted those facts. Mahjong is recreational while cara y cruz or tumbo is gambling and illegal at that. An Alfonso showing its head and tail or if your prefer its "hari" & "corona" But I was amused at the scene of a group of individuals by an "island" at corner T.M. Kalaw and Taft Avenue I happened to pass by while doing research at the National Archives of the Philippines sometime in August 2010. I just alighted from the Light Rail Transit (LRT) at UN Station and was finding my way to cross T.M. Kalaw when I noticed a bunch of lot playing cara y cruz on the elevated concrete "isla
Read more

SOOTHING AS NIGHT WINDS ARE: An Interpretation of the poem by that title by Salvador B. Espinas

Image
Love is gentle, love is quiet Like any distant star; In loving by which we approximate the nature of love, we do not coerce those we love—as much as possible we give room for freedom to grow and respect each other’s independence, i.e., each other’s time of searching. In loving, the lover is like the distant star, manifesting his presence and yet quietly, not trying to obstruct or block the path of the beloved. He stands besides quietly assuring her of his gentle presence and constant attention. Love is beauty, love is music Soothing as night winds are. Lovers are enchanted by the wonders of creation. One who is in loved would often quips that everything seems beautiful and that “ life has music, rhythm and rhyme” –which actually is. Somehow, love enables man and woman to see reality as God sees it. As even in times of trouble, loves comes like night winds, soothing our weary mind and aching heart.
Read more

Maeocong, Chieftain of the Jae-o No More

Image
There was a time when the early settlers by the Jal-o regarded the river with a sense of foreboding. While it served as the main thoroughfare, their public baths and laundry pond, the river held many mysteries kept hidden among its lush mangroves and adjoining swamps and tributaries. Rumors and reports of actual sightings of monstrous amphibians wading its waters had been told in every household. The authorities had warned the villagers to stay out of the water especially at nighttime. Of those crocodiles, Maeocong was regarded as the dominant bull--the king of the Jae-o. He was long as a boroto (local banca) and heavier than an adult carabao. It was said that he was more deadly if paired with his favorite mate, Pingan Nonay . Together, they wreck terror along the Anao and Bag-ot swamps. For a time, the settlers tolerated their fear. They lived their lives by the Jal-o with that ominous awareness that they were not the masters of the river. But such fears had hounded them even in th
Read more