Of love, pest control, and flick-packed weekends

Another cool Bikol poem by M.I. was posted at BikLish, and J.A. “hoped” I could translate it as well. My response is, I hate to bask in the attention while all this time the authors plausibly disapprove of my adaptations; (but since my hate mail inbox has been empty I assume this is not true) I am doing this because I find that I quite enjoy it. While I’m cooking up new poems of my own, here’s my translation for Sagkod Ngunian:

Now, I stand tarrying for you still
Though this is not known to you,
these feelings I harness.
When I vied for reconciliation,
some one else was with you.
It’s not I whom you care for, whom you need;
It’s not I who you call for, not the hand you hold;
My lips are no longer grazed by yours; no longer
do you dream of me. You love me no more.
I sojourned to attempt oblivescence
but I ended up nursing the weight on my chest.
Met with a few, but I could never understand them
(the way I can read your silence),
because I am yearning the one I love
Until now.

*   *   *

I always thought I was a pacifist; and I always grow nauseous at the sight of blood. (My dearest Ate almost lost her pinky to a grasscutter accident back when we were kids. I saw the white of her bone beneath the bloody mess & that’s the first time I almost fainted. Saw the world in bright orange!) And Lord Hallelujah who knew pest control would introduce me to the side of me I’ve always denied acknowledgement? By avoiding the drawing of blood, I unthinkingly devised measures that were far more torturous, vile, inhumane…

So I set up a sticky pad (or stick pad?) by the trash bin & in less than an hour there was a poor little bugger struggling for freedom. So I thought, why waste a pad on one captive, right? It has room for one more little fella; to keep the first one company. In the hope that they won’t be able to pry themselves free, and eventually, die of cramps & hunger or both…I left them there overnight.

In the morning they were gone, leaving only a little blood & disgusting little hairs.

Phew and  Eew.

Now I fear they’ll be back for retribution. And they’re gonna take it out on my office clothes — the ones I should never have bought in the first place because it meant foregoing more decent meals or curbing my already slim savings. When I was a kid, they always took it out on our clothes.

In the morning I set up a new one, and when I got back from the internet shop by the pm one little fella, possibly one of the eskapos was trapped heavily by one leg & his snout; so to secure his captivity I nudged him into the adhesive muck. I got a shoebox & sprayed poison on him before covering him with the box. Still, the li’l bugger lived. I wasn’t taking any chances this time. So what I did, I put him in a plastic bag & hid him in the dark recesses of the covered trash bin, I hoped the poison kills him before suffocation does. Or maybe the poison would suffocate him & it would be the same thing?

Now the problem is, in our little barangay you can only take out the trash at 6am until the garbage collector makes its rounds. With my work schedule, I usually take the trash out only on Sunday & Monday mornings! It’s gonna be a week before I dispose of them pests & what with my pest control progressing until friday, man, the darn apartment will smell as if its six feet under with the bottom of the food chain crawlers. Of course, I can always throw them away on my way out to work at 8pm & hope no one’d be looking.

What a freakin’ life I have eh?

But let it, for the record, state, that I am NOT proud of what I did nor am I not remorseful for it.

*   *   *

In between these pest control sessions I ate, slept, did the laundry, went grocery shopping, and watched flicks.
I got a total of 6 new ones: [Some, I’ve seen way back then & thought worth collecting, some I judged to be great films–and yes, they turned out to be]

Take the Lead
Apocalypto
Winter|Passing
10 Things I Hate About You

The Joy Luck Club
[can’t remember but I’m sure it was cool]

*   *   *

You know what’s constantly in a cubicle-entombed employee’s mind two days after the last paycheck? Easy. WHEN THE NEXT ONE WILL COME. So, in view thereof; in fear of dwindling my money away, I’m gonna go straight on home this Saturday.