What do you know; I’ve got another vivid dream last night*. No angels though yet I feel it’s worth elucidating if only for reason that it is such a lucid chunk of visions in my head while I slept so deeply and it may evoke some meanings for me or for the lives we all live.

The dream started on a steep hill; in a place that I have never been before in my entire life — but it felt like it was in Antipolo, as the rolling hills reminded me of the place called Cherry Hill, the site of a famous landslide disaster some years back and which I was able to have a glimpse of on television and newspapers. I asked in my mind what was going on since there were a lot of people outdoors watching some neighborhood event, out in the open field while the sun was shining so brightly and the wind was warm, such as the summer breeze.

Some bystanders answered my query: “A boy from Japan was showing some flying ship.”

I stretched my neck out and see for myself what the whole fuzz was all about, as I heard a whirling sound that went “whrrrrrrrrrrrr….whrrrrrrrrrrr…….whrrrrrrrrrrr……….”, like that of a motorized toy. I saw then what was to my eye was a colorful contraption the size of a small-sized passenger car, say a Kia Pride, lunging directly towards the sky like a rocketship although it didn’t look like a rocketship at all, at least not the specific way that a rocketship look like. On the one hand, the flying contraption looked like a very small version of the Columbus—the Nasa space shuttle.

I observed the flying motion of the “thing” and the viewers could actually see a boy inside it, probably doing some navigation through some control dashboard. But with the manner it moves from one side to another, up and down, in steep trajectory and then changing directions so sharply, you wouldn’t think that it was being driven by someone, for it moves more like a haywire remote-controlled toy helicopter, so unstable and without a clear direction. I felt a lot of concern for the safety of the boy at that particular moment.

Yet, despite the queerness of the flying contraption, it actually earned my amazement and admiration. When the boy alighted from it, I was among the throng of men and women who trooped towards him like he was a hero or someone famous. I said to him in a loud voice: “ What you got there is a landmark invention!” The boy probably did not hear my declarations that he turned towards another direction without giving any hint that he had noticed me.

I was slighted by the boy’s disregard but I really felt that the thing was such an important discovery and it may be the prototype of a transport system that would change the way we travel forever. In fact, the way it was designed earned my fancy as it looked like a very huge toy that every boy or every man with a child’s heart would like to have from the toy store downtown. The color was also my favorite—blue, yellow and red.

I will describe to you how the thing probably works. The flying contraption would lunge towards the heights by a turbo on its below, just like any rocketship, and when it is up in the air, it’s outer core would swirl so fast in circular movement that you could hear its sort of annoying, but low whirling sound. This motion of its outer core probably was the main mechanism that keeps the thing above ground, and it has a couple of protruding wings that are also attached to smaller turbo engines. These wings probably control the direction of the thing aside from helping it stay afloat. The flying contraption moves in a speed that I have never seen before and that made me a little doubtful of the thing’s design credibility, for the safety of the passenger may not be secured.

Yet again, despite its flawed functionality, I truly believed that the invention by the Japanese boy could be improve further if only he meets the right persons that could help him find some technology companies willing to put money for its development. If the thing would work, we may finally welcome age of flying cars and finally say goodbye to the monumental cruelty of traffic jams in our streets and highways.

The boy went to see some persons in a nearby building that looked like the station of the Armstrongs in the old cartoon series “Voltes V”, in short it was like a science building with an ultra-modern look and full of hi-tech facilities and with a very high-ceiling at that. Buildings in the anime world seem to all have extraordinarily high ceilings. I followed him of course and went into the building myself, which I found to be completely empty although electronic equipments were apparently on and running since the lights on them were blinking continuously and some sounds could be heard coming from them, a sign that some automated machines were on. I reckoned that the boy was inside some highly secured room, busy discussing matters with some important personalities in the technology world. So I went upstairs but I still find the place empty as a dune. I took the elevator and went down to the ground floor and as I headed towards the main exit door, I saw the Japanese boy coming out of a room that I was not able to notice before. His face was full of distraught and I could see that he was disappointed. I knew then that the talks did not go well.

I watched him tiptoed through the tiled floor and could hear the sound of his footsteps reverberating throughout the building, the heaviness of his emotions were easily felt. I approached him thinking that I might desire to shake the hands of someone who invented what perhaps may be the future of transportation. He shook my hands so briefly and went on with his heavy walk without even looking at my face. I followed this boy who was so young and yet so arrogant and said in a loud voice, “You should bring it to the attention of NASA.” At this, he turned back and I could see that he wanted to cry. He said, “I will try.” And he went on walking, now in a hurried manner, as if he wanted to get rid of me. I just reckoned that a genius boy like him could afford some bad manners so I did not took it so badly that he doesn’t respond well to my engagements towards him. I just wanted to help him.

That same afternoon, as the day approached twilight, the boy was in the field again with the onlookers still on hand. I went to see the show again. He was with his mother this time around and they were in stiff argument as to how the thing should be launched into the air. This was in stark contrast to the smooth and confident launching he had earlier in the day. After some words, both mother and son agreed on the manner the flying contraption should be placed on the ground, and the boy stepped into the thing and soon the machine hummed again in a whirling sound.

The flying contraption indeed went steeply into the air that my heart leaped a bit as I see what a wondrous thing it was and how such a small machine could actually fly into the air—like seeing a flying car for the first time. Yet, after a while, the thing kept on lunging downward and it was a little painful to see it struggling to keep itself afloat. The boy might be horrendously dizzy by then as the flying contraption went up and down in the air. I myself became a little bit dizzy just watching the thing fly in the strangest of manner.

Soon, the boy alighted from the flying contraption and he was sweating all over. I wanted to ask him if the ship had some appropriate ventilations but I decided against it. I approached the boy again without any inhibition that he might utterly disregard me again. He did not. I meant that he finally talked to me more graciously than before.

“It was hard,” the boy said.

“Yeah. I could see that” I said meaning to console him.

I asked the boy “Why did the thing fly so bad the second time around?”

“ I was flying on a manual mode this time.” The boy said in a sad tone. It turned out that the boy ran out of hydrogen fuel and it was too costly for him to source them in a huge volume, and in order to keep the thing flying for a longer period.

As we walked together towards a more shadowy area, I could feel the sadness in his breath. He confided to me that that the scientists he was negotiating earlier wasn’t sold out about his invention mainly because they said that the thing could not retain enough fuel in order for it to reach enough distance. The scientists instead advised him to find out the solution for this major flaw of his invention.

I suggested to him to use nuclear fusion instead because this kind of fuel is light and with a small amount aboard, the thing could go far. I also advised him to go to America because in the Philippines, even our own inventors do not get much support from the government. He just nodded to my suggestions and we shook hands as we bade goodbye.

At this point, I woke up to a cloudy morning where rain was threatening. The weather made me a bit heavy inside as I remember the predicament of the boy with the swirling rocketship in my dream. I hope he would listen to all my advices and go to America where everything is possible it seems. I hope his dreams would all come true. I laughed a little inside thinking how could I wish well someone who doesn’t exist at all but only a creature of my dreams. But I remember the boy well, and if there is some sort of a police line-up, I could point to him always.

After I took my breakfast, while sipping hot chocolate, I pondered what the dream had meant to me. There were no angels in it but I felt that the dream wanted to impart something to me. As I analyze the visions I had that night in my sleep, I now believe that sometimes we all have some idea that could really fly but could not fly so high at first due to some major flaws and yet, if only we try a little harder and knowing where to go and what to find and whom to approach, this idea could go a long, long way and may even change the way we live forever. * This is another repost from about a couple of years ago. So this dream didn’t take place last night.

One night in 2001, some months after my last job in the government was terminated, I was stuck in bed gazing at the ceiling and was in deep thought on what to do then with my life. I had a job offer from a friend but the pay was way too low compared with my last paycheck that I much rather tried some other options then, like taking the bar examinations the following year. It was hard turning down that job offer especially when the offer came from someone I knew too well. What if he had needed my services that badly? But then, I had a future to take care of and so I had to inform him quite honestly that I was preparing for the bar that summer and it wouldn’t be in my best interest to have my hands full on an accounting/marketing job. I had to take some risk I had decided then and go for the farsighted plan that could offer me probable long-term benefits than be stuck with a dead-end job.

Perhaps it was too much of youthful diffidence in me that at some nights I had shivered just thinking how the realities of existence is not what many of us had supposed to be when we were much younger, that the world is at times a dog-eat-dog existence where one must claw up the ladder just about every time, even to the point of elbowing others and stepping on their shoes just in order to find a semblance of meaningful existence.

That particular night, the weather was so warm that even when the electric fan hummed at its fullest, I had perspired so monstrously that I could almost hear my sweat dripping from my skin. Drip…drip…drip…I turned on my stereo and listened to an aria of Andrea Bocelli and the coolness of his voice made me feel a little better. Conte le partira, Paesi che non ho mai…Vel dutto ver sutto conti….Conte le partira…

And then I fell into a sleep that wasn’t like sleep at all for it felt so much like I have just glided from one dimension of existence to another. Unbelievable as it may seem and yet those who believe in parallel existence may just sympathize with me on this. Perhaps you’d start to think that I have become so much of an inexhaustible dreamer that I started to live more of my life in dreams than in the real world. I won’t blame you for that for sometimes I feel that way already.

In that dream, I found myself suddenly bursting into a barren landscape where the ground was red all over and the air was smoky as yellow smog floated like grimes on the atmosphere. I gazed around and I could see a nearby hill gradually rose from the ground and I could see wide plains and gray mountains from afar. The sky was red, like a bleeding wall to my sight. I could see no bushes or any form of greeneries around and if you’d seen some photographs of Mars, then you might have the best of idea of how the place appeared to be. The air was so still that I could hear no sound whatsoever that every step I made I could clearly hear. I felt my feet a little harassed by the crackling ground below me, those plates of mud solidified by too much dryness. I decided to walk further until I reach a point where the smog cleared and in a sudden I saw a small pond just in front of me, with a leafless tree standing along its shoreline. The tree reminded me of the guava tree that I used to climb when I was a child. I could remember that guava tree only too well because I had fallen from it twice before and it was there that I saw a strange creature of the night, a huge manlike being with the head of a horse, with some burning object flickering from its mouth, perhaps a giant cigar, just like what our elders had always said about kapres.

I stared into the pond and saw that the water was a familiar blend of yellow and green, like dew, and it was so calm that its surface didn’t moved at all. That was how I reckoned that it was a very deep pond by just looking at it. Shallower waters are always fragile to the eyes.

The water in the pond looked so inviting and it seemed to have spoken to me like it had a life of its own. I went to my knees and smelled the water. The scent that it evoked gave me a mild exhilaration of emotions that it became all the more tempting for me to dive into the water. I touched the water again and a small amount of it in my hands was enough to quench the waterlessness of my body. Still, I was hesitant to go into the water as its depth intimidated me so much and I wasn’t a good swimmer. Suddenly I heard some rustling noise behind me and I immediately turned to look at the direction of the sound. As the smog cleared, a women in a white gown appeared and she initially smiled at me. It was a little unusual that I never felt any kind of fear the very moment that I saw that floating woman even though as I write this particular passage, I have goosebumps all over me. I stared at her and wondered what’s the purpose of her calling me into this dream. I wanted to ask her why she wanted to meet me but spoke nothing instead. In that dream, I did not remember uttering any words; in fact not a single word was spoken by anyone in that dream. I really had initially felt that it was the woman who had called me to that dream and that she had some important message for me.

I wanted to express so many things to the woman hovering just in front of me but I struggled to mumble even a single word. After a while, the woman stared at me so intently and it was a little strange for me to realize that she could actually speak to me by just merely looking at me. And slowly I had also realized that I could get all my thoughts across to her even without uttering any word. She told me through mind talk that there was something that I should know and some person had called me into the dream and not her. Then she moved slowly towards me but as I thought that she was coming closer to me, she actually went farther and farther from me until she disappeared from my view. It was a completely spellbinding distortion of distance and space.

Then my gaze was turned towards the nearby hill that I had mentioned earlier and there appeared another person that was also in white gown, just like the woman had worn. I thought at first that the woman and the person floating above the hill was one and the same person but as I examined more carefully, the person on the top of the hill was actually an old man with a white flowing hair that was too long; too long in fact that I had mistaken him for a woman in a glance. He had the face of a very old man and to tell you quite honestly, the old man looked like Leonardo da Vinci, the one most of us had seen in many self-portraits of the legendary Italian artist.

The old man caught my eye and without saying a word, he ordered me to dive into the water. I hesitated at first but the old man was too insistent that he kept on pointing towards the pond. Again, it was sort of a distortion of space and distance that despite of the distance of the hill from where I stood, I could see the old man quite so clearly like he was just nearby.

As if the old man had suddenly gained control of my body and mind—even from a distance—I slowly took steps towards the tree and climb it, this despite my clear wavering. My climb was swift like I was a trained scaler of trees. As a child, many of my playmates teasingly dubbed me as “Monkey!” for I had always loved climbing trees when afternoon came. On a period of the day when most kids in the neighborhood took their catnaps, I go play by my lonesome instead and climb trees. My favorite tree to climb then was the Datiles beside a small fishpond that bore so many ripe fruit that I picked and gobbled in my mouth. I have grown to like the sweet nectar coming from the Datiles fruit. The guava tree on the one hand does not bore any fruit that we kids rarely climbed it. There was also a Chico tree about five thousand feet farther from the Datiles and it is where most of us kids love to climb the most and where we play catch-me-if-you-can games atop that huge tree, would you believe. It was so dangerous to play games while hanging on branches because a simple mistake or a broken branch would surely send the unfortunate kid plummeting down to the hard ground. It was so risky but as kids, we did not realize that.

(more…)

I was just talking about summer and how we all loved the warm sun and the warm season that goes with it. But yesterday finally augured in the rainy season, for it had been raining for more than a couple of days straight since then, and if rain would fall with that kind of consistency, and it happens to be May, then it’d be for sure that the rainy season had finally arrived.

It was my second child’s birthday yesterday and we had planned to celebrate it by bathing at the pool, which we did in the afternoon. And it was also the birthday of Ilana, the very lovely and very cute daughter of my close friend Michael Lopez and Dra. Leileen Lopez, and it was celebrated at the La Vista Beach Resort and my kids were quite excited to hit the beach as early as the sun appeared in the morning.

When we arrived at La Vista, the weather was still in drizzle, as it was all morning. I was hoping that the sun might come up later in the day, but it didn’t. The rain fell but Sep-Sep, Beng-Beng, Bobi and Bebet suited up to their swimming trunks and bathing suit and got themselves all wet. It was raining, but it was so fun yesterday. The rain may fall, but joy is still in season.

Happy Birthday to my son Yves and to lovely Ilana Lopez.

By the way, before we went to the beach resort, we had to stopped by the new and sparkling Southway Mall in the middle of downtown, the only shopping store in town with a covered parking space that even if it was raining, it would still be convenient to shop. The kids and me were a bit in discussion on what type of toy we would buy Ilana as her birthday gift and for nearly half an hour there, we couldn’t meet at an agreement. I told them that Ilana was a girl and them three boys wouldn’t really know what a little girl wants.

Of course, my youngest daughter Bebet wouldn’t be able to speak just as eloquently yet that I didn’t consult her at all. But I was thinking what Bebet had always wanted to play with often and I have observed how little girls enjoyed so much playing with quaint little kitchen sets (aside from dolls and playhouses), pretending to cook and serve. There were quite a number of times that I had to pretend drinking something from empty little cups served by Bebet and I would go ‘Huhmm’ that was a very delicious tea, when in fact it was only air I took in, and Bebet would giggle often by those pretensions.

I hope Ilana would enjoy her kitchen set so well and serve her dad those very fine imaginary teas.

It had been raining this summer. It’s near the end of April and there’s still rain that drizzles down from the blue heaven. It’s an unusual season that way. A friend and me was once examining how the weather was ironic, t’is summer yet there’s rain.

But today, the rain fell at dawn and the sun is starting to shine it’s light. It’s a beautiful light. Not so bright and yet not so dim like a rainy weather does have.

It’s the favoritest season don’t you think. I adore summer just like everyone does, just like you and me. It’s the time for letting flight the colorful kites so mighty in the oceanic blue sky. It’s the time for the kids to run in the arid grounds, dust and smoke in their faces, filling the air with innocent laughter and mirth.

I had dreams of summer before. I dream of summer as the windiest and most adorable golden field of wheat and corn, just like an American summer, along the intertstate highways and along old barns and stucco rural houses that serenade the bright summer like colorful marbles from afar.

I dreamt of summer just like the one I had mostly when I was a child. Cool air and incandescent shine all over me, as I flew my kite by myself or fish for small fishes in a nearby pond, like I own the weather for all myself, and myself alone.

Summer brings freedom. Unlike cold winter and heavy rainy days when one could merely sit by the window and see the wet grounds outside, puddles of mud all round, and wondered if a big fish would suddenly burst out in floods that sometimes come when the rain does not stop for days and days to come. I sometimes wished that the mythical fish, gigantic and full of mean scales on its bodice, would somehow appear and bring excitement to those sad rainy days when I was so young and so innocent. Of course, there’s no such fish as we all realized about the myths in our young unknowing minds as we grow up.

But it was so alive in my young mind, and it looks just like a coelacanth, that scaly big fish that was thought to be extinct but had been found out to still exist in some parts of Africa. And it’s huge like a submarine and I could imagine rivets all over its body, forming it and holding the whole body tight, like a gigantic machine fish, with a mean looking face that doesn’t smile at all.

I had the deepest fear of being gobbled whole and live by that giant scaly fish and finding myself just around its tonsil, calling for it to Please let me out now, you stupid fish! You have no right to put me inside your f*cking stomach and would you please belch me out right at this moment?!!! ( Pardon for the expletives.)

Oh, I really wouldn’t want to be trapped inside that dark crevice of a giant scaly fish and that’s one of my greatest fear. Maybe I could call that giantfishphobia, if there’s such a thing. Fortunately, there’s really no such big and scaly fish in reality, that would just suddenly burst out of a developing flood just outside the yard. Now, that I am grown up, such myths of my youth is for certain, just that, myth.

For the meantime, I am just going to savor the cool summer sunlight that’s enveloping the whole surrounding at this time and wish the heavy rainy days of May wouldn’t come just as yet.

THIS IS SUMMER AND WE AREN’T IN NOVEMBER.. There shouldn’t be Halloween stories.

But a couple of nights ago, I was early for my public administration class that when I entered the room, there was only one classmate waiting for the teacher before I came in. I said “Hi” and Rhea said “Why don’t you hi yourself”, no, I mean she also said hello to me, and was in fact similarly polite to me, like I was to her when I knocked on the door and greeted her earlier.

You know, I always have this untoward trepidation about snobby and conceited women when I was younger, perhaps even until now, that I have this subliminal fear of greeting women I am not so familiar with, like women of newfound acquaintances and those that are unfamiliar colleagues at work, that I often dissuade myself from greeting women who aren’t really close to me. In fact, I often have daytime nightmares about this that I imagine how conceited women would always respond to me when I said to them “Hello, how do you do?” and they would be like “Why are you helloing me or hi-ing me like that. Why don’t you hello yourself and hi yourself?”

But enough about that trepidation, I am sure it is merely that, trepidation and baseless hesitation. I am sure 9 out of 10 women I will said “hello” today, the moment I walk outside, would return my greetings with exemplary politeness, and not with some scorn in their eyes.

Rhea and me were sitting for nearly half-an-hour and our teacher, the eloquent and healthy Mr. Patinio, who happens to be the head of the Central Bank here in the city, has not yet arrived and neither one of our classmates.

It’s kinda strange, I uttered to Rhea, how our classmates are not in the classroom at that very late hour especially when we had to take the final examination that night (our classes goes towards the early part of night). She answered, that perhaps they all had forgotten about the examination. Well, I said I doubt that. Study shows that 9 out of 10 students just do not forget final examinations.

Excuse me, Rhea asked, have you seen somebody walked outside? I said What? She asked, have I seen someone from the room went outside by walking in front of her and me? I said that’s impossible because as far as I have noticed, there were only two of us there in the room, me and her, how could that be possible, I asked her?

But really I said, did she really saw some person walking in front of us?

Yes, indeed she assured me to the hilt, like I thought she was lying or had gone lunatic.

I told her not to worry and asked her to describe what she saw.

She said that while we were having a conversation, she thought that a classmate had already came in and sat down and then went out again. And Rhea described what she saw. She saw a woman with long hair in a white colored gown, walked towards the door and went out.

I said to her that we do not have a classmate with that description, and that I swore that not one of our other classmates have arrived yet.

She said yes indeed, not one of our classmate looked that way. And we both agreed that it was a ghost that she saw walking in the front part of the classroom, while we were having a conversation, and waiting for Mr. Patinio and the rest of our classmates to arrive.

But we didn’t leave the room. We waited for Mr. Patinio and the rest of our classmates to arrive. And we took the final examination.

This is a poem I’ve written just today. It’s titled “Crystals In The Sky”. Obviously, it’s a surreal poem that utilizes symbols and imagery that connotes the meaning, of hope and redemption.

Once,
in every while,
my eyes is shaded by a cellophane
as the wind becomes fluid, despite of that
I stare towards the sky.

The crystals,
hiding previously from the clouds,
comes out now in the open sea, open sea of blue,
while a maiden appears acting like a mother, or like a sister
she gives me messages of hope while at times, scolding me.

Oh the lady,
that maiden with her rebuke
I’d rather see the crystals in the sky,
in their soldiery formation, unflinching and unmoved —
they must have stared at me with their entire valor.

Who are they?
What are they?
Are they friends or are they foes?
They must have had beauty for they were soothing to me,
like fresh water splashing from a mountain spring.

These crystals
they shine like diamonds in the sky,
hundreds of thousands of them, where in the past I have seen millions
or merely by the hundred thousands —
As I might have been mistaken.

The crystals in the sky,
my friends who have appeared to me,
floating in the sky and flashing before my eyes,
as they come to me,
Often.