about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Went to Baliwag last Monday for the annual All Saints Day trek to the cemeteries. This was the first time I got to see the rehabilitated NLEX up close and it looked pretty damn good. Dad kept his Trooper at high speed all the time on the smooth asphalt, exploring the limits of the big SUV with frequent tailgating maneuvers and lane changes at 130 km/h.

Which wasn't the case going back home.

Once we had arrived at the Bocaue exit area on our way home the NLEX had turned into one big crawling parking lot, as everyone wanted to go back home at that time. It didn't help that so many vehicles either crashed into others or broke down along the way. What had been a short 1-hour trek turned into a 3-hour nightmare. One irritating idiosyncrasy was that the Bocaue toll plaza had so many nonfunctioning booths, but only 4 of those were open to traffic. Oh well. Times like those I'm grateful I wasn't driving.
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One of our beloved dogs, Bruce, died two Sundays ago. We figured it was because of the medicine we gave him for treatment of his distemper illness...although I have to wonder why he still died even when we followed the vet's prescription to the letter. My sister was crying as she managed to catch Bruce's final moments, struggling before finally slumping to the floor.

We're all going to miss this young pooch. He was just one year old but he was a big and heavy fellow, really affectionate and playful all the time. I hope he's enjoying in doggie heaven.
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I've been wondering over the past couple of weeks. What is death, really?

It all seems so routine, so regular. Life starts, continues, then ends. It's just a part of the normal course of things. Yet why do we get so hurt by death? Why do we fear it?

Sometimes I think this whole brouhaha about death is overrated...it's as simple as closing your eyes and never waking up again. There ends your taste of this world. Looking at it this way doesn't get rid of the fear though.
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I'd love to stay and type more but I got class to attend. Damn it, I'm sleepy. Thursdays are especially long: I get to school at 7am and leave at 7pm because of that goddamn color-coding shit.

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