World War C

Girbaud, my half-Persian half-something kitten-turned-cat.

I FREED GIRBAUD OUT of his cage today. He’s my sweet-looking little cat who used to be a kitten until this June, his first adoption month anniversary, which for me is his birth month. I have always looked forward to freeing him because he’s a cat. He should be free to stroll and sprint and play. And mate. To my delight, the moment I freed him, he was so calm and quiet. Simply lurching around in our backyard, sometimes moving to our terrace, taking naps, and that was it. Gone are the days when he would dash from one place to another, which made me anxious that he’d try to escape and find his mother cat and his siblings and then, instead, end up finding another home.

Moments later he crept across the lawn, chasing after a white cat. I am certain that it was not about mating because that white cat, as far as I know, is male. And Girbaud, I believe, is not gay. There’s no homosexuality in the cat kingdom, I suppose, unless I am mistaken. Then they pounced, stumbled, scared themselves, and flashed lightning-quick into another yard. In the neighborhood―which happened to be a den of dogs.

Onion salads with a pinch of Disney lesson

OUR CAMARADERIE WAS LIKE the closeness between a Spiritual Warrior and a transformed Media Puppet—it happened like the peeling of an onion.

Last June 6, my spiritual birthday, I found out that Robert already had his Facebook.com account, which I presume he had created this May. (I actually thought he'll never create a Facebook account because he said such an account would aid in the programming of every person's RFid in the future.) So I invited him using my Facebook account, which is linked to my official blog (this blog).

The next day, I read a message in my phone from Robert Rivera. He was asking me to delete my June 1 blog entry about him and Michelin in relation to the Pioneer because he doesn't want to appear as a presumptuous person. I’m not supposed to delete the entry since Mitz was touched with the article; however, I still concurred with Bert.

A long-awaited text message and a warped candle

FINALLY, A FRIEND OF mine already messaged me last May 8. I thought we won’t be having any communication until May 13, or perhaps, even the entire summer of 2010 (until end of May). However, I’m wrong. The bubbly sound of my phone signaled I’ve had a message yesterday. I read it; it’s from Bert. It said, “Kumusta po?” (How are you/How is it going?”)



I know I’ve hurt Bert so much that I can’t blame him if he’ll resent me extensively. At his first message, I was flabbergasted that I was bemused on what to do.