Sunday, January 6, 2008

I dreamt that the road was paved with beautiful orchids in bloom, luminous lilacs. It was a vision. And I felt so happy looking at it. I also dreamt that I quarreled with somebody and I was seething with rage. I was still at the university. In typical fashion I could not find a room to vent out my anger. Chanced upon a vacant room, only to discover there was a secretary, a nosy one, who wanted to know why I was in distress. "You want to confess?" she said. "Why should I? Have I committed any sin that's worth your time?" The woman was silent. She looked at me in a pitying sort of way, the look we reserve for wounded animals who wouldn't die. And then I chanced upon another room, there was a conference of some sort. It was attended not by regular professors but by a younger set. I saw my sister. She said she won first prize, in the children's story division and I was so happy for her. She did not look at all like my sister, she was plump, had a bob hairdo, and was wearing white eyeglasses.

This is my first attempt to share a dream as far as I can recall. I used to do this regularly, in my diaries. I found out it was a useful technique in harnessing images for drama or fiction. Even the disjointed structure and the dialogue sometimes inspire me to write. In a few minutes, the rice on the stove would boil and I have to hurry. It's time to prepare my son's things for school. My classes would also start today. (It should have started last Thursday, but I could not strike up the verve to begin. Still have this holiday hangover.)

The lunch at Meong's place went well. It was quiet, the food was superb as usual, and Amado behaved. He didn't eat much. Much of the guests's attention was focused on the extreme wrestling match they played on dvd. Two men, one bald and one hairy, both muscular and sporting tattoos, were wrapped in each other's limbs, each trying to bite and subdue the other. It didn't register as a macho thing for me. I saw two men engaged in a homoerotic dance, and the punched eye(or bitten nose?) was just a subterfuge for something else, something more forbidden.

Of course I couldn't launch into these thoughts out loud. So I contented myself with eating low fat low sugar ube ice cream and discussing fashion in the 70s and old candy items with my sisters in law. Paolo seemed okay, we didn't get the chance to talk. Mark looked very mature, he was in tshirt and jeans but he was behaving like a thirty, forty year old family man. Fatherhood becomes him. But one could also see that he's struggling a lot. His baby, our apo, by the way, is so adorable. He visits his pediatrician regularly. Unlike our experience with Manang Lita (the family pediatrician), the booster shots don't come free anymore. In Mark's time, he regularly shells out 5 thou for his son's immunization. Not to mention the high cost of infant formula and what not.

The gathering was pleasant. Absent ang reps sa side ni Freddie, 'yun lang ang sayang. Masyadong kumplikadong ikuwento kahit sa blog na ito na supposed to be, "free". So I will refrain from speaking about it because I want the parties involved to settle the issue amongst themselves, in whatever way they want, or in whatever way the cosmos will deem it to be.

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