Last night I had a weird dream. I was on a jeepney. It was late in the night. The driver dropped me off at an open air night bazaar in the middle of a dark wood.
The ceramic shop I entered was well lit, and sold other furniture and home decor. I wasn’t interested so I went out and found a secondhand/rares bookstore.
I found an illustrated “The Witching Hour” by Anne Rice, but I couldn’t recognize the text. There was some other book I liked, too, but I knew I couldn’t blow my last P1000 bill in my pocket on books.
Turns out Anne Rice was sitting in a desk inside the bookstore, so I knew I had to buy these books and get them signed. But alas! My P1000 turned into a P20 bill. Even on a discount I couldn’t buy these books.
Anne took my right foot and autographed her on name across the ball and toes of my foot. Then she wrote her initials on the sole of my left foot.
I woke up thinking I should dash to the only bookstore in Malolos (Pandayan Bookshop) and buy Anne Rice books.
But maybe the dream meant something else. Maybe I should set out and follow in the footsteps of one of my favorite novelists. Maybe I should write, too.
Luzon and Visayas continue to be battered by rain and floods. Snow Patrol fans are banging their brains out in the concert in Araneta. The Congressmen debated on the RH Bill. I want to go home and do sitting meditation. I don’t want to go to work.
Two nights ago the Bayan, Malolos’s market center, blazed in fire. The rain and the strong winds aggravated the situation. This morning fire trucks barricaded the entrance to the Bayan. It was the cleanest I ever saw that place. No flood. No litter.
I didn’t find the banana and pineapple stores I frequent.
On my way now to work and everything is wet. High school students are happy about the early announcement of class suspension tomorrow. I didn’t go to the film audition I wanted to go to earlier today. Hm. I don’t know what’s to become of me.
The ceramic shop I entered was well lit, and sold other furniture and home decor. I wasn’t interested so I went out and found a secondhand/rares bookstore.
I found an illustrated “The Witching Hour” by Anne Rice, but I couldn’t recognize the text. There was some other book I liked, too, but I knew I couldn’t blow my last P1000 bill in my pocket on books.
Turns out Anne Rice was sitting in a desk inside the bookstore, so I knew I had to buy these books and get them signed. But alas! My P1000 turned into a P20 bill. Even on a discount I couldn’t buy these books.
Anne took my right foot and autographed her on name across the ball and toes of my foot. Then she wrote her initials on the sole of my left foot.
I woke up thinking I should dash to the only bookstore in Malolos (Pandayan Bookshop) and buy Anne Rice books.
But maybe the dream meant something else. Maybe I should set out and follow in the footsteps of one of my favorite novelists. Maybe I should write, too.
Luzon and Visayas continue to be battered by rain and floods. Snow Patrol fans are banging their brains out in the concert in Araneta. The Congressmen debated on the RH Bill. I want to go home and do sitting meditation. I don’t want to go to work.
Two nights ago the Bayan, Malolos’s market center, blazed in fire. The rain and the strong winds aggravated the situation. This morning fire trucks barricaded the entrance to the Bayan. It was the cleanest I ever saw that place. No flood. No litter.
I didn’t find the banana and pineapple stores I frequent.
On my way now to work and everything is wet. High school students are happy about the early announcement of class suspension tomorrow. I didn’t go to the film audition I wanted to go to earlier today. Hm. I don’t know what’s to become of me.
