It Comes In 3s

I got my results and became part of the Statistics on Thursday.

A first cousin, who I haven't met in ages had coughing bouts and fever spells the same week I did. Her results revealed that she was Covid Positive on Sunday.

Another first cousin, someone I haven't met in a lifetime (lol), thought it was a simple case of allergies. She was sneezing and coughing until they thought of having her saliva-tested last weekend and the result came out - positive. 

That is three in a week. Happened under different and peculiar circumstances, and I had a weird feeling that our misfortunes had something to do with the general cleaning I did in our old house in Santa Mesa.

---

You see, that almost-century ancestral house never runs out of kababalaghan stories. From fair-looking beings greeting you out of nowhere to invisible entities poking you in the middle of the night, you name it and the tenants would likely tell it. When the sibling was still a toddler, she was delirious in one of her fever spells. The tawas session revealed that she was being toyed upon by the duwendes. A half-brother, who once lived in the farthest corner of the house dreamed of seeing shadows watching over him. He was sick of tuberculosis and needed to be isolated. 

He recovered weeks later.

Despite its haunted reputation, everyone believes it's a lucky house. All children (those who enrolled at least) were able to complete their studies and lead better lives despite the odds against them. No one who lives in that house ever got seriously sick (at least that's what the elders and the current tenants say.) So I treat the house with reverence, and in my desire to bring back its better days, I may have inadvertently triggered the elementals who lay undisturbed in its deepest recesses for decades.

Desperate to understand the connection between my transgressions and the peculiar affliction that came down to my family, I was likely granted an audience. In one of my dreams, I was back in the same room I cleaned the week before. There was an assembly of shadows and I was asked to speak and air my side. I said that I thought of cleaning the house and putting lights in my mother's abandoned room to bring it back to its pristine form. In my thoughts, I wanted that place to shine, even host more tenants who might benefit from the house's generosity. I do not recall apologizing, but I knew that I spoke with selfless intent and that I conveyed my desire to become the custodian of the house. The shadows were silent. I do not recall feeling their wrath or anger. Meanwhile, I saw a bunch of children gleefully peeking out from the second floor kitchen's low ceiling. 

Later on, I would learn from the caretaker that these assembly of entities were the same entities the tenants randomly come across when they tread along the unlit corridors. 

---

The next morning, I partially got my sense of taste and smell back.

Taal

Trigger Warning/Dream Sequence

Taal had a violent eruption. It took place late at night, around 9 or 10 pm. I recall how the sky was full of stars. There was no moon. Then, in the direction of the volcano, we could see magma oozing out of the crater. Minutes later, black plumes signal a more violent pyroclastic ejection. The explosion was so strong and so powerful, I wasn't able to move from my spot. Since I was in a hilly position, I could see everything reaching us within seconds:

Volcanic rocks flying in every direction.

Clouds of hot gases that could sear every living thing to cinders barreling over like a tsunami on the loose.

In that dream, I think I was one of the dead. Prior to being rudely awakened from my sleep, I saw two women, talking to each other. I do not recall what they were talking about, but seeing their surroundings, vegetation have somehow returned to the grayed out landscape. In front of them was a pink ancestral house, its wooden carapace still caked in ash.

End of dream.

Just A Subconscious Manifestation

Previously on: A Little More Time
                   Finding Neverland

All I remember now is sobbing in front of the nurses' station as reality finally sinks in. She passed away from some untold disease, and I was trying to call the help desk of the agency where I bought her memorial plan ages ago. With the rest of the details, now beyond the efforts of retrieval in the memory banks of my head, there is cold comfort knowing it was just a creation of the subconscious. But I've learned to heed dreams as they sometimes masquerade as omens. Never will I forget that it is in the depths of slumber that events surrounding my grandfather's passing was shown to me by fates.  

Waking up distraught and confused, the plan of leaving the city to unwind had to be scrapped.

Permanently.

The Rocky Dream

As told to MyBoo minutes after the steam-room conditions inside my room stirred me from my afternoon nap.

"Nagkita kami (Rocco) sa SM Mall of Asia para daw mag-bonding. Tapos nung nag-iintay kami ng taxi para kumain elsewhere, nagulat na lang ako at nakita kong may ka-flirt na yung kasama ko. Yung ka-flirt ni Rocco eh biglang gumawa ng eksena in public. Paano kasi, naka-unbuckle na yung belt ni best friend tapos partially open pa yung pantalon niya. Ayun, dinala siya sa security office nung mall. Ako naman e sumunod para magbigay ng moral support at magtanggol kung kinakailangan. Nung naareglo namin sa office yung kaso, naghanap ulit kami ng makakainan. Dito na nag-iba yung setting ng panaginip. Napunta daw kami sa isang building na may open field. Yung Main Building yata ng PUP yun. Mula sa sixth floor, bumaba kami ni Rocco. Tapos sa ground floor nakita namin si JM na naglalakad papalapit. Inintroduce ko sila sa isa't isa. 

Meron pa kaming isang kasama na long-haired guy na hindi ko kilala. Inintroduce ko na lang siya bilang si Red. Natapos yung panaginip ko na naglalakad kami sa open field patungo sa gate para kumain daw ng kwek-kwek sa labas ng campus."

At the back of his head, the beau would probably think that I'm making up a story. That, or he would find my memory too sharp to capture every little detail of the scenes. He even said that it was a long dream, a fact that could not be disputed given my recollection.

The practice of keeping a dream journal has allowed me to recall some of my dreams with clarity. Including this one. From that time I dreamed of Godzilla sacking Manila, (the details I still remember) to that fateful decision to cross the bridge, (a subconscious resolution to end dating a romantic interest) it seems I am getting more skillful in remembering the events in my slumber. 

There was one significant piece I later told my boyfriend as to why I was caught unaware of Rocco flirting with another guy:

"Habang nag-iintay kasi ng taxi, may kotse kasing huminto sa harap namin. Yung pasaherong lumabas ay dating editor ng newspaper ng dad ko na matagal ng patay. Kunwari hindi ko siya kilala pero namukhaan niya ako. Kinuhaan pa nga niya ako ng picture point blank gamit yung camera phone niya. Foul yun at dapat ako yung magrereklamo sa security sa ginawa niya. 

Kaso naunahan ako ng eksenang ginawa ni Rocco."        

But the detail omissions didn't stop there. And I didn't bother telling the partner about them out of fear that he might get confused of my story telling. I would have to say this is one of those rare dreams you get to remember in its entirety. A subconscious hint that I should meet my friend who has been there ever since I switched preference more than a decade ago.

"Yung head ng security ng SM na nag-invite kay Rocco na sumama for questioning ay dating manager nung security agency ng dad ko. Hence, madali namin na-areglo."

"Habang naglalakad pababa ng building at papunta ng field, tinanong ko si Rocco kung bakit nakipag-flirt siya dun sa guy. Ang sabi niya sa akin, mukha daw kasing daddy."

  

A Little More Time

Credits

In a hall with large, floor-to-ceiling wooden doors, was my favorite aunt seated on a pew. I approached her, walked in an almost processional fashion so as not to disturb her quiet contemplation. She was grim-faced when she looked at me. Her mood, funereal. For beside her was a white casket with blue-painted carvings of whimsical design. 

Within the box was her, in eternal sleep. Beautiful and still full of life. Cosmetics applied to her face made her look younger. It is as if she was still alive. The reaction was almost instant, breaking down in tears, I said;

"She asked for at least seventy five years." 

I woke up. 

Went to her room and hugged her.

And then she told me about her colleague who has Brain tumor.

  

The Bridge

To dream that you are crossing a bridge signifies an important decision or a critical junction in your life. This decision will prove to be a positive change filled with prosperity and wealth in the horizon. Bridges represent a transitional period in your life where you will be moving on to a new stage. If the bridge is over water, then it suggests that your transition will be an emotional one.

Dream Moods

It was late afternoon, it seemed.

And yet, there were no people to be seen. Like everyone had disappeared, or had chosen to stay indoors. I remember walking alone. Like I was trying to find my way out of the maze of streets. Then on high ground somewhere within the empty city, I caught glimpse of a Gothic cathedral on the horizon. Its base was shrouded in fog, and only its towers and the upper half of the church's ornate facade could be gazed upon.   

I thought of walking towards the cathedral, for reasons I am now unsure of. All I knew was it would be a long stroll - judging its distance - and I have to cross a wide river to get there. So off I searched for the crossing, and at a bend was a sloped road marking the river bank.

As I reached the top of the ramp, I was surprised to find out that in place of the old stone bridge was a makeshift structure made of wood. I hesitated to cross to the opposite bank because the planks laid out on the deck was made of plywood. The bridge also had no barrier. If an unfortunate soul plunges into the river below, it would take a minute before his body slams against the water. 

In no way would I take such risk. 

An adult approached from the other side, while someone from behind overtook me to cross ahead. So narrow the deck was that they could barely fit together. Meanwhile, I decided to check around for clues as to what happened to the old river crossing. Save for ruins where scaffolds now stood, there were no traces of the past bridge. Probably it was carried away when the river swelled during a storm. 

Returning to the ramp once again, I saw school children running towards my direction. They came from the other side of the bridge. The kids crossed effortlessly, like they seem to know how to balance themselves, even without the hand rails. There were also boys who did tightrope walking. I only noticed the high-tension cable next to the bridge when some kids did the wire act to outrun those who crossed on the wooden deck.

The kids were gone, and the sun was about to set. Still, I was halfway between making a decision to cross, and reach the other side and turning back - to wait for a new bridge to be constructed. I didn't know how long I stood near the approach. But just when I was about to make a single step forward - to make my first attempt to walk over the flimsy deck, 

I was stirred from sleep and was dragged out of the dream.

   

Tampo

In my sleep, I was in a distant place. Somewhere stateside, where the air was dry and nippy, and at the heart of downtown were rows of Art Deco office buildings criss-crossed by four-lane one-way streets.

To get around, one must walk in layers of clothing I would not imagine wearing in the tropics. I recall putting on my hoodie for the cold weather gives me headaches. Part of the nocturnal narrative has now warped into oblivion, like smudged ink on a wet paper. But I remember stepping foot inside a hall occupied by a huge well-kept library.

I didn't stay long inside the library - with musty bookcases that touched the ceiling. Instead, the library's narrow corridors served as passageway to the other side, where a courtyard gave way to old oak trees. Beyond, was a chest-high concrete fence separating the verdant refuge from the post-modern avenue.

Before I could even walk out the door, I remember catching up with a Caucasian guy, who didn't seem to notice my towering presence. I followed him as he walked past the courtyard and into the street outside. I kept tracing his footsteps when a familiar voice called my name.

"Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!" It was my dad.   

I stopped following the Caucasian guy and walked towards my father instead. His face could not hide his disappointment - like he was, the last time he paid a visit. He told me that my life was going nowhere; that he didn't expect me to end this way. I didn't heed his words, nor paid attention to his observation. It seems this time, the old man is growing impatient.

It's been years since my dad passed away. And for some reasons, we kept correspondence in my sleep. I told these bizarre encounters to my mom, and she too is mystified. After all, she and my sister never got a visit from my dad.

Not even in their sleep.

Back in my dream, we decided to take a stroll. Nobody talked. We passed by a Chowking restaurant and I invited him to eat.

He declined my invitation. 

"Dalawa na apo mo ah," I tried to break the ice once more, hoping the news would put a smile on his face. But he remained aloof, silent, like he just showed up to say something straight from the gut.

"Huwag ka na magpapakita sa akin!" He said in a stern voice.

Before I could say a word, the dream was over. It was almost noon and no matter how I twisted and turned in bed, I can no longer go back to sleep.

Stunned, I told my mom what happened. Once more, we tried to weave a reasonable explanation to all these disturbing and recurring visitations. I wish to know the cause of his anger and if there is something that could be done to win back his favor.

"Baka naman dahil hindi ako nakapunta sa sementeryo nung Death Anniversary niya?" I was looking at the mirror while I spoke. The footprint of years my face no longer hides.

"Baka naman narinig niya yung mga sinabi mo kagabi?" She said in a jest. My dad's sister sent a text message the night before. I thought it would be prudent not to reply.

It's no secret that I had a falling out with my dad's kin; that I am no longer swayed to my aunt's side as she recounts the hardships of having a troublesome son. My cousin, in his outbursts in the past punched her in the face. Without work to support his two kids and a wife that didn't even finish high school, their house relies on dole outs and occasional remittance from a TNT uncle. 

Perhaps, I have grown tired of their hopelessness; of the cycle of violence and my aunt's refusal to act on it. At a time when everyone at home struggles to keep the house afloat, hearing word about the troublesome cousin only adds to my frustration.

Sometimes I wish we were never relatives at all.

So I told my mom before I went to bed that their problem is no longer my concern; that I would rather waste my strength keeping my own house in order.

The contents of the text message no longer matter. Even my sometimes-vile sister said it serves our cousin right. Meanwhile, my mom said it would give my aunt the freedom to run the house the way she sees fit. And so we all agreed to get on with our lives and not mind her troubles. That was until my father showed up in my sleep, and received a rather icy reception.

"Ikaw na nga tumatayong padre de pamilya ah." My mom rallied to my defense. "Hindi ba niya yun makita sa kabilang buhay?"

Her assurance sufficed to ease a troubled heart. I was even saying that dad could have at least approached me nicely. But I guess, one's nature doesn't change - even in the afterlife. He was, and will always be the ill-tempered father I had known.  

And like how our father-and-son relationship had been, it was easy to ignore the dream. It can be seen as a manifestation of the subconscious; a mere creative expression of the mind. But at a hindsight, who am I to defy the departed when he chose to speak to me? Can families simply walk out from each other, when our ties have been close - at best?

So I let my heart lead the way and overturn the instructions of the mind. After all, I may speak of the family tragedy in all its regrettable details. But never can I claim that we were left without flotsam to hold on. We can still afford to lend an ear, even when our eyes refuse to see the misery in our midst.

"Akala ko kinalimutan mo na ako." My aunt sobbed as we walked away from my father's grave. "Ang hirap hirap..."

"Maging matatag po kayo." I hugged her tight before parting ways. "Hindi kayo pinapabayaan..."

She may not know the reason for my unannounced visit. But most certainly in the great beyond, a restless soul has been appeased.

Freedom Fighter

In a twisted dreamscape, we live under a mad tyrant whose armies are sent to conquer the world. There are those opposed to his ways. But they are forced to work underground or risk exposing the resistance. It so happened that I am an assistant working for one of the opposition, a leader whose face and body features are identical to those of Milla Jovovich.

We live in a three-story house overlooking the sea. The lady has a vast collection of dolls which makes her home eerie to live in. One morning, I stuck my head out the window and saw the tyrant's army on the march. They have established a beach head along the waterfront.

I alerted the mistress to their presence and urged her to flee. She did without hesitation leaving me and a servant to delay the intruders. Soon, I heard the soldiers knocking at the door. Thinking it was a random house belonging to a local, they didn't force their way through.

I opened the door. 

The one assigned to the search party was a young soldier. Possibly a new recruit. Behind him was a mature looking grunt who appeared to be his superior.

They searched all over the place, while asking random questions to me and the servant. The servant reminded me of Corazon, the black lady with a low-pitch voice in Marimar. Her pot belly, big flabby arms and buttocks and dark skin are too distinct to mistake her for someone else.

As the search went on, I remember taking some items from my closet. I have this feeling they will burn down the house after we are taken custody. 

"Kaano-ano mo ang may-ari ng bahay?" The young soldier demanded answers.

"Tita ko po, pero matagal ko na hindi nakikita." I said while ducking on the floor.

I was ready to make an escape through the side windows (after putting a pair of boxers, a small toy I found inside the drawer and a picture of me and my mom I snatched from the frame inside my pants.) when I thought of a better idea.

"I want to serve the army someday," I said, to my captor's amazement. 

We were about to leave the house when I heard the servant whimpered. Apparently, the other soldier was touching her private body parts.

"Ang laki ng suso." He said softly. "At ang tambok ng puwet."

"Sir paano yun, maiistorbo natin sila." 

"Isara mo muna yung bintana." The young soldier ordered.

I don't know if he was simply letting his superior off the hook, or he wanted to join the fun before returning to base. But without second thought, I grabbed my captor's crotch and squeezed it gently. He resisted. He even went so far as to drop to the ground to keep me from unzipping his pants. 

I knew he would sooner give in, but my sight began failing and my surroundings slowly fading. Before I was able to make my next move, I was driven back to wakefulness and realized I have fallen asleep.

   

Astral Travel

Punta, Santa Ana, Manila

I was crossing a newly-opened road bridge. Below was a narrow creek notorious for swallowing entire neighborhoods when day-long downpour occurs. I remember getting upset for I had hoped the walk would be longer, more eventful, and once I cross to the other side, I'd see sights never captured on digital maps or in my wildest imagination. But the discovery was a letdown, I've had better walking expeditions. 

The rest of the details have now become opaque, like puddles of water slowly disappearing under a screaming sun. I remember walking in a corridor inside a tenement, looking through windows that glimpses the living rooms of humbled homes. And then at a bend, (or was it a dead end) I could see a river and some trees. They say, beyond those trees is wide open space, a big abandoned lot, which I hardly see from my spot.

When I checked Google Map after many hours of wakefulness, I tried to pinpoint the exact spot where the dream took place. I still remember the vacant lot, the big river and the tenement where I found myself exploring. I also knew what bridge I crossed and so was the place I tried to explore.

After all, such discovery belongs to one of my aspirations.

The map did reveal something; a real-life location that puts everything in perspective. One day, when my tired feet find itself in front of the green-roofed structure. When the building turns out to be an old tenement just like what it was in my dream, weird as it may sound but I guess, some people do journey in their sleep.     

Dream Journal Twenty Five

I was crouching in a street corner. With my knees folded and my hands pressed against my face. Not far away is a dying man surrounded by a crowd. I could hear them saying, "lumalaki yung ulo niya o!" (his swollen head is about to burst!)  But I didn't care. So are my other two companions who were close by. Their backs turned away from the commotion.

And then without a word, someone wrapped a piece of cloth around my eyes. The stranger then asked me to stand up. I learned that I would lead the grieving procession to the hospital because I'm the only one who could wade through the huge crowd.

With blindfolds on, I started walking. Slowly, making sure not to trip or the heavy object on top of my head would fall. I could feel his coldness with every step, like a slab of metal left inside a freezer. After a few steps, I heard the crowd cheering. Suddenly, the man I was forced to carry regained consciousness and is now healthy and alive. 

The tide of rejoicing pushed me into a curb, while the now electrified crowd continued to carry the man away. I went back to my companions to check how they're doing.  While walking away, I even thanked one of them for healing the sick. (It was hinted in the dream that she's an angel) My friend, who is a dear confidant just smiled and said she didn't do anything.

"Ikaw ang may gawa niyan." (You did it yourself)

The three of us continued walking - me, my college friend and my World History teacher until we reached the main street where we all went our separate ways.

From The Other Side

We were in a classroom.

The Businessman Aunt stood as the proctor while my mom was one of the students. In this surreal arrangement, I too played a part. I was also in that classroom sitting as one of those who will take the test. The Businessman Aunt handed me the test paper. She said to pass it after every row receives their copies. The Businessman Aunt moved on to another row, and just behind her, I spotted my grandfather sitting in a corner.

He was smiling. The kind of smile that tells he's missing everyone. And you know that he's happy - wherever he is.

"Tatay, pasensya na, hindi kita nadadalaw." He just nodded.  

I told him things I could not remember. It was a brief talk that had now dissipated after an entire day of wakefulness. I didn't figure the reason behind his unexpected visit until I told my mom about it. His gesture, I would love to share with the Businessman Aunt when we see each other.

Before the examinations began, he stood up, hugged my mom and then walked towards the front of the classroom. He then hugged the Businessman Aunt before leaving the room. Both daughters were never aware of their father's presence, not even his embrace. I then woke up and the dream lingered long enough for me to remember the details.

Nine years ago, the landline rang at five in the morning. According to the caller, Lolo snored his last snore and then he stopped breathing. Before dropping the phone, she told me. 

"Huwag mong isipin yung sinabi mo sa akin."

Two weeks before that morning, I told the same caller my dream. It was daybreak, she called the house to tell me that Lolo was rushed to the hospital. He didn't make it.

Several weeks before that dream, I prayed that if its time for him to go, I would appreciate a sign. I was hesitating to write his "autobiography" for I have this feeling that his time is near. Heaven was gracious to grant me a swift answer.

Lolo was rushed to the hospital that morning. But he passed away before he got medical attention. He was declared dead-on-arrival. He is the same grandfather who appeared in my dream this morning - assuring my mom and the Businessman Aunt - who are both facing upheavals in their home-fronts that he is still watching.

Fifteen Minutes | Dream Journal Twenty Four

It was almost midnight and for some reasons, everyone at home was still up. I even remember asking the maid to get me Tortillos at a nearby store.

Checking my watch, the time was 11:45. Suddenly, like a snap of a finger, like blood rushing towards the head, I knew I had to buy something - a cake for my mom. All this time we followed tradition and here I am forgetting it. 

Feeling the sense of urgency, I changed my clothes while letting my memory access its vaults to find the nearest Starbucks still open. I'm absolutely sure that all Red Ribbon bakeries were already closed. We were in Santa Mesa, in our old house, and I was thinking maybe there's a branch near UST. There was no time to think of other locations. 


I was on the verge of panic.

The maid returned not with a Tortillos but with a plate of pretzels. The pretzels, thick in brown syrup and sprinkled with croutons was something I didn't expect. I hesitated to get a piece.

"Masarap yan!!" The maid insisted, She was right. The croutons turned out to be bits of cheese.

I left the house to start walking. I was about to make a turn to a narrow passage that leads to the main road when I saw a table at the middle of the alley in front of me. On the table were gifts stacked on top each other while party food were laid out around it. 

"Someone's having a birthday party," I said to myself. What's surreal is that the table, and all those gifts were there but the celebrant and the guests were nowhere to be found. But there was no time to take a closer look. My surroundings began to dissipate and by then I knew the reason why.

I woke up in my bed with the sun high outside the windows. Feeling relieved that I still have fifteen hours to buy the cake, I got up, opened my laptop and started writing this entry.

Still

I may have toughened up.
But in my dreams,
I still cry for you.

It was rush hour, I recall, for I was waiting for a jeep that would take me home. Under overcast skies and a sun defying the onset of darkness, I kept seeing this young guy passing in front of me. He was way younger, more like someone who just left the academe. If not for some semblance with someone I knew from long ago, I wouldn't pay much attention. He sported a skinhead look, fair skinned, and was shorter than me. A few passes towards my direction and the memory came back.

He was my ex.

Despite many attempts to avoid him, the ex finally saw me. Seven years since our first meet-up and he looked exactly the guy I met at Robinson's Place Manila. He tried approaching, but I immediately jumped towards the estribo of a passing jeep. Kahit sabit gagawin ko makaiwas lang sa kanya.

The jeep moved slowly until it stopped at the middle of a bridge. I didn't know the ex followed until I saw him catching up. With no choice but to face the music, I let him come close. He was a history I've never truly forgotten and there are so many unresolved issues I still keep until now.

Like a scene in a twisted telenovela, I spoke in muted words. In my head, I told him my resentments for what he did. He was merely listening, his face appearing consolable despite my rage. He didn't speak. There was no need to argue why our relationship failed. Five years. With almost no memory of a good date. With countless sacrifices of drawing my resources for his own need. What I remember more were the attempts to cover up for the emptiness. The hatred. The bitterness. There was no reprieve for what happened. Perhaps the reason why it is easy for me to let go nowadays is because I learned much from fighting; For staking my claim over a bond that has already shattered. I slept around just to get back. There were times I felt like paying for his affection after sleeping with me for a night. I don't know if I would ever find my peace. There is no way to heal the past.

It was already getting dark and I had to leave. One last hug was all that's needed for tears to streak again.

After all these fucking years.

Words were never spoken, but in our hearts, there was an understanding that nothing will come back. He will always be a chapter in my life, whose final passages will still end in a good note.

"Maalala ko pa rin kung paano ka naging mabuti sa akin." The exact words has escaped me now, but the sincerity of the promise remains.

No matter how tight my embrace was, disconnection was at hand.

The next thing I remember was lying in bed, still bathed in darkness.

For Future Reference Only

"Allah created the armies, and he also created the hawks. Allah taught me the language of the birds. Everything has been written by the same hand," the boy said, remembering the camel driver's words.

The stranger withdrew the sword from the boy's forehead, and the boy felt immensely relieved. But he still couldn't flee.

"Be careful with your prognostications," said the stranger. "When something is written, there is no way to change it."

"All I saw was an army," said the boy. "I didn't see the outcome of the battle."


The Alchemist,
Paolo Coehlo

Natatandaan ko, gabi yun. Nasa mall kami at katatapos lang manood ng movie. Pababa kami ng escalator. The entire mall is encased in glass so kita mo yung labas. Puro bulubundukin ang paligid. Malalaman mo yun kasi nagkikislapan ang mga ilaw ng mga bahay sa tabi ng bundok.

He was with his friends. Hindi ko sila kilala. Nakalimutan ko na kung paano nagsimula ang kuwentuhan pero siya ang naunang nagsalita. Forgot the topic we talked about, pero alam mo yun, the first time he spoke a word, I knew there was a spark. The attraction was present and perhaps he felt it too. Now you might wonder what he looked like. Weird, I never expected it myself. Remembered him wearing a plain white shirt and jeans. Rugged kung rugged ang get-up. Makapal ang buhok, halatang hindi nagsusuklay. Katamtaman lang ang katawan, matangkad (5'10 siguro) moreno, average looks pero di ko na matandaan hitsura ng mukha. What endeared me to him was his quiet confidence. Hindi presko, pero alam mong maangas. Articulate in a sense, dominant nonetheless.

Lalaking lalaki kumilos.

Teleportation | Dream Journal Twenty Three

Imagine waking up in an unfamiliar white room. Across the folding bed where you slept, video footage of teachers and students parading in a school ground splashed on the TV screen. They were having a foundation day of some sort, but you cannot be sure if your impressions are correct. You cannot think clearly. It remains confusing how you woke up in an unfamiliar place when you still remember the last thing you did before falling asleep.

The next scene rolled. You were in the school ground you earlier saw on television. Everyone was wet, for the skies heaved with rainclouds. There were women wearing clothes reaching their heels. They were taking shelter in one of the sheds scattered all over the place. Some girls in green and brown skirts were running in front of you. You didn't pay attention to their presence because you were trying to figure out what was happening. Walking alone, you approached a group of teens - high school students who were merely watching the event from a distance. You asked the tallest where you are and the reasons for holding a parade.

The details are blurry now, only the word Cagayan still remain in your head.

---

To wake up in Cagayan after remembering sleeping in your bed in Manila was a mystery you could not explain. You wanted to go home but you don't have any money for a bus ticket. You wanted to call friends but feeling your jersey shorts, you don't have a phone in your pocket. Walking away from the school ground, a strange refreshing sight overwhelms you. Endless fields were everywhere. In the distance, you remember seeing a mountain. The skies were blue and the heavy downpour which drenched the paraders earlier were no more. It was a rustic picture you are looking forward to seeing soon.

Suddenly, someone familiar tapped your shoulders. It was Ewik.

You explained what happened; that the last time you remember, you went to your bed and was looking forward to a long sleep. Suddenly, you woke up in a very strange place, and you never knew anyone except him. Your friend merely smiled before dropping the bomb which would confuse you even more.

That you were in Cagayan all along.

Ewik walked past ahead, the cadence of his feet you could not catch. He turned in a corner and then you heard a splash of water. Next to the bungalow where you stayed, there was a pond and your wandering friend, who was swimming, invited you to join him. He promised to show you the beaches later, but instead of diving and letting the water take away your confusions, you merely stood next to the pond, confused, worried, dizzy.

And then everything became blurry.

The next thing you knew, you're back in your bed and it was already past 10 in morning on your wall clock.

Moving To A New House | Dream Journal Twenty Two

To see a house in your dream, represents your own soul and self. Specific rooms in the house indicate a specific aspect of your psyche. In general, the attic represents your intellect, the basement represents the unconscious, etc. If the house is empty, then it indicates feelings of insecurity. If the house is shifting, then it suggests that you are going through some personal changes and changing your belief system.

To see a new house in your dream, indicates that you are entering into a new phase or new area in your life

- Dreammoods.com

I woke up this morning believing it was a very bad dream.

---

Dusk settles when mom and I have finally decided. We will move to a new home in a suburb unfamiliar to me. It was an upscale neighborhood. The rows of houses were painted white and were made of concrete. I remember how the wooden beams above the first floor supported the entire structure. The timber used for construction must have been made of hard wood.

"Ba't nandun sa dulo yung bagong bahay natin?" I asked as we walked towards our new home.

"Yan ang pinili mo diba?" Mom replied

The sloping ground where the house stood lies just at the edge of the subdivision. It was near the forest of Pine trees close to a hill. The house was empty. I recall it having no wall facing the street. The living room, kitchen and dining room were exposed to the elements. I even had to tell mom I'd be spending a fortune just for that part of the house to have a wall. Ascending the stairs, I learned that it had two rooms on the second floor. I remember giving the smaller one to my sister, while the master's bedroom, to my surprise was occupied by three men. They were about to sleep when I barged inside their quarters. The one most embarrassed closely resembled my English professor in college. They assured me they will leave the moment we move in.

Climbing the stairs alone, I finally reached the third floor. It had a single room which lead to the balcony. I had thoughts of converting the open space into my personal quarters since the entire floor, which I suspect to be the attic can be accessed by anyone in the house.

End of dream

A Ghost Story | The PGH Experience

The Philippine General Hospital has been around for almost a century, and such edifice with a long history of witnessing so many people coming and going, it is not surprising that it carries with it the echoes of those who walked along its dimly-lit corridors. Though modern conveniences now abound everywhere, behind the masquerade known as technology are some very old questions no medical or health science could ever answer. When I pass through wards filled with patients struggling to live, its walls retain the hopelessness and misery of those who already moved away. I sense their lingering emotions and it's the reason why I avoid staying long when I visit my aunt who works there.

---

It was the summer of this year. Utol had a minor surgery whose goal was to enhance her aesthetic worth. She had to consult her doctor to see how the stitches from her surgery was healing. Being the reliable kuya, I had to wake up early to accompany her despite going late to bed the night before. The lack of sleep made me feel woozy. My very short fuse meant that I was best left alone. Sparing others from my grumpiness, I usually take a nap inside my aunt's clinic while waiting for my sister to return.

One morning, I took a nap while utol was having her consultation in the other room. The secretary who was also inside the clinic where I stayed told me that she had to go out and do some errands for the consultants. In short, I would be left alone. I was too durog to acknowledge her, and what mattered was that nobody will disrupt my peace. However, upon reaching the sleeping phase known as lucid dreaming, my ears could hear a lot of chatter. It felt like the room was filled with people.

I tried to force my eyes open and when I finally succeeded, I was surprised to learn that the door was open and patients of all ages were queuing to have their turn to go inside the consultants' quarters. What was strange about them is that most of those who were falling in line were adults and elder people. The clinic where I stayed specializes in Pediatric Surgery. The consultants there only treat kids. I tried to get up but I could not move. I wanted to roll over hoping that I would fall to the floor but my attempts were all in vain. Suddenly, some of those who were in the line noticed my struggle. They began walking towards my direction. They spoke of things which I could not recall, save for some snippets of memory about how they died.

Yes, they were all spirits.

People who experience an inability to control one's body while sleeping call the ordeal bangungot. I do not know if mine could be considered as one. What I know is that I was in the verge of panic. (because I could see the wrinkled face of a very old lady who was standing beside me) It took several minutes (and a Lord's prayer) to regain control of my body. When I finally did, I woke up still alone inside the room. There were no other people nor doctors calling a patient's name waiting outside the consultation room.

It was all but just a dream.

But the experience, where I cannot wake up despite my futile attempts to do so happened many times over, I already know what to do should I lose control of my body. And in many cases, I am aware that some unseen forces were taking advantage of my weakened state.

I have one ability only few people know about. Those who knew, also possess such ability too - and often, with theirs - much more powerful than mine.

And in the coming entries, I'd tell more about my encounters and how I came into terms with my strange talent.

-tobecontinued-

The Babaylan | Dream Journal Twenty One

Four years ago, I dubbed her the Babaylan because of her affinity to non-straight guys like me. For some reasons, her name fitted her shining personality because in all the years I have been with her, those who are attracted most to her presence are the ones who are troubled within.

Originally written: August 31, 2:13 PM

---

I found myself inside a big room. Looking at the window, the sky was overcast outside. Prayers and worship songs echoed inside the hollowed chamber, and at the center of the floor was a familiar lady, someone, I have known for years, someone who is shaping me to become the person he wanted me to be. She is Mami Athena and for some strange reasons, she was the one leading the ministry.

After the service was over, she asked me to go upstairs and into her private quarters. Being her obedient surrogate son, I followed her. In her quarters was a queen-sized bed with a pull-over mattress on its underbelly. As I positioned myself to lie on the mattress, a collegue of mine, which we will call Ganja Girl sneaked into the room to join me. Mami Athena recognized her presence and allowed her to stay.

Pulling a blanket to conceal me and Ganja Girl's slender body, (because the blanket I brought matched those of Mami Athena's bed sheet cover) those who needed her healing entered her quarters one by one. The first to arrive was a guy about my age. A blue sleep mask covered his face and he was shouting "I am ugly," continuously until Mami Athena pacified him. I cannot recall what she did but a moment later, the guy was feeling better. He was ushered outside by the waiting assistants immediately after.

I turned to ganja girl who was lying beside me and told her what I saw. She said it happens all the time. Mami Athena's patients possess a malady of the mind and not of the body. As she expounded her idea, I saw the next patient lying on the floor. Just like the first one who came in, he was the same age as me but acted a little too young for an adult to do. In fact, he was cooing like a baby while the Babaylan stroked his tummy. Seeing the guy baby talk scared the shit out of my senses but then, I realized that maybe Mami Athena's purpose is to release to repressions, hidden desires and strange aspirations of those who come to seek her. I wouldn't be surprised if a patient suddenly do a Britney Spears act in front of her one day. "Alam mo gagaling naman yang mga yan eh." Ganja Girl told me. "Yun nga lang, asahan mo, babalik ulit sila bukas para magpagamot." The guy Mami Athena was cooing earlier returned to his senses and jumped towards her. The ecstasy on his face leaves me dumbfounded.

I would have stayed a little longer to observe how the Babylan exorcise demons out of her patients' mind, except that I remember to meet a friend that day. Sneaking past ganja girl who was still lying on the mattress, I crawled towards the nearby bathroom without getting anyone's attention. The bathroom leads to another room and as soon as I opened the door, I caught my cousin ranting in front of the mirror. The room which I found myself in resembles the master's bedroom my cousin's parents use in my aunt's house in Paranaque.

end of dream