Tuesday, August 29, 2006

turning stomach

my stomach is still turning, could be the alcohol from last night. another night of intoxication, now i cannot smoke a single cigarette. i'm teaching a class at 1pm, havent prepared the frame of our work. should get to that later, meanwhile i've promised myself that I shall work on my dreams:

a big white art deco house with a big backyard, something that resembled my father's house back in the 80s at Elvinda. In the backyard, is a full service resturant of likha diwa as well as the ground floor of the big house. on the second floor is the dining room and kitchen of the matron. the matron was related to me, i dont remember by how if she was my aunt or grandma. i dont know, my grandma is thin, her skin borne out of the sun and hardwork she's expereinced there in wasteland Ilocos. Let me get back to my dream, this matron was big and fair-skinned, and like it was the first time I've ever met her. Because of this we have been going on to trips everyday, my mom pushing me to join everyday. I was a teenager again with my brothers, though it seemed that we all came from different places havent seen each other for some time. Dreams change the passage of time and somehow in our waking hours we try to get back to the rationale of real life history. Is there a parallel age in my dreams, as I seldom dream that I am a mother myself. Its always a past situation that I have been. Do we have parallel ages in our unconscious? A parallel life?
I walk in the house, waiting for my grandma? to finish getting ready. I havent had lunch and have been waiting for more than an hour after rushing from my own house. I think I was wearing black. Hungry, i walked to likha diwa and get a shrimp wrap then I saw my grandma getting ready for lunch. Somehow sick of the food from her house, knowing there was nothing for my vegetarian stomach, I avoided her. My mom pushing me to join her and as usual on my back. I refuse and shout that i'm not coming anymore. My cousin had a tatoo on her back, it was some writing in red and splashes and spots of ink, carelessly drawn, scattered on her back. Parang natapunan ng pintura. NOna was with Maria and her housemates and sitting under a big tree, their back against the cement wall that separated the house from the neighbor. When their order came, two plates of pancit, a big bilao of roasted eggplants, and another lunchbox of pancit! the plate of pancit falls, nona laughs with coffee by her side.

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