the scene changes and i stand at a dark crossroads⁴, my clothes tattered and thin. these roads are the roads of my childhood⁵--where jeepneys used to stop and load passengers going to kalentong. now, in my dream, my IDs are scattered everywhere in the middle of the crossroads.⁶ all my IDs--work ID, alumni ID, atm, BIR ID. i try to pick them up which is difficult to do since the tricycles and the jeepneys and the pedestrians are all honking, speeding,cursing around me. when i stop at a corner, clutching an ID, a huge waste truck almost swerved and killed me.⁷ imagine, dying in all that dirt. and in my dreams too.

1. hmm... vampires are well-known to be creatures of the night, sucking blood (and eventually, life) out from their victims by well, seducing them. be careful on choosing whom to become intimate with, friends, workmates, et al.

2. might be trying to seduce them to by letting them in my, uh, private life. of course, dreams are never literal. that said, no more XXX dreams would mean the same.

3. scary, huge, powerful, dark--stereotypical for people who have power-and-attention mongering. watch out for those.

4. time for changes. rather, i am about to choose the most important thing: #6

5. all my life has brought me here *bow bow*

6. my identity. my life. my personality. everything about me that i knew, know, and would know. i would choose what to keep, what to change, what to remove. but importantly, i am just plain confused, mixed up, scattered.

7. i might end up in near-death situations, picking up the pieces. might even end in the dirt, or worse, dead. at least, in the end of all these, i get to save one ID card.

and now i think Jah.

and now i wish for a shawarma and squidballs.

and now i wish for a sofa.

and now i doubt even the strength of coffee.

and now i am hungry again.

and now i have not finished a Ric de Ungira.

and now i have MA admission papers kept.

and now i sleep 8 hrs but barely felt it.

but now he's going to prepare melon shakes.

but now i long for baguio.

but now 6pm is the hour.

but now i wear heels.

sana yumaman na ko!

para hindi na ko magtatrabaho ng 8 hours at magpapataba na lang ako forever and ever

pretty offbeat huh?

as kids, we dream. as grown ups, we barely sleep. we sleep in front of our PCs when required to beat reports in half an hour, but when we're lying in bed, sleep eludes us. my nap time is usually during lunch breaks when everyone is busy exchanging their daily nutritional amounts of offiice gossip. find me dozing in the authors' room, hot like hell, with the windows closed, the beds stained, and the electric fan snoring.

so now, i sell ideas. might you take a look at these pretty stuff yours truly whipped up during late-night conversations with jobim, holiday, and fitzgerald.

Ain't that sweet?

In the dark

While crying

And the world becomes

The sea

Of her childhood

Where she drowned

Thought she was going to die

But rose up again

Because she paddled

Hard against

The clashing waves.

His hand

Rocks her world

Into a sea

That remembers her skin

Wants her skin

To be one

With the foam

To swell deep inside her

And claim her

Like it once did.

While crying she holds

On like the sea

On his skin

Trying to remember

Why drowning

And reclamation

Became peaceful

And pleasant

Like revisiting childhood.