lisaisms

I. Living Room

We were all gathered in his living room which had a wall of mirrors on one side and wide open windows on the other. I was sitting on the arm of the sofa and as I scanned the area, I felt this warmth inside—the kind of warmth you get when you’re in a huge family reunion, the feeling when you know that you’re at least part of something.

He said that this was probably the second-most happiest day of his life, being with all our family and friends. I just sat there on the left arm of the sofa. It was dark brown. Or black.

He told them about the day we met. He was at a meeting on the something-eth floor of so-and-so building when his beloved teddybear (whose name I forgot) flew out the window. I was in front of the building when that happened, and of course, picked up the bow-tied bear which now had a bloody forehead, thinking how peculiar, a bear out of nowhere. I remember staring at the bear, blood running on this face, looking up and seeing an out-of-breath man saying “Fuck”.

The people went “Aww...”

I don’t think they really understood the story.


II. Kitchen

We were all gathered in the bedroom, telling our stories and laughing at them. I had my back to the floor and my legs on the door. There was a knock on the door and it was Tita (the Tagalog word for “aunt”), who asked one of us girls to help her cook. Of course, only one of us was actually capable, so she got up.

Tita was talking to a tall man in a black suit (I don’t know who that was because his back was turned). Tita moves a lot when she talks, and when she turned to her left, her eyes went wide and she ran.

The kitchen is not your typical square-ish kind of room. It was rectangular, a hallway joining two rooms. The floor was covered in blood.

Something was apparently off. Tita entered the kitchen running, panting, and slipping. I do not know what exactly happened—maybe she hit her head on the counter—but when she sat on the floor with her back to the cabinet, her hand fell in a way that you know that she’s dead. The walls were covered in blood.

There was a bloody hand (I’m not sure whether it was a right or a left) on the bloody floor. It was just a hand. I thought it was she-who-knows-how-to-cook’s hand, but she was also on the floor with both of her hands still intact. She sat on the floor with a cleaver in her hand and blood all over. She turned to the hand which was on her left, supported her body with her left elbow on the floor, and started chopping. The kitchen was covered in blood.


III. Aquarium

Everyone was gathered in the apartment. The investigation began as soon as they found out about the blood. They said that when the police came, the place was already flooded. That is an understatement; it is an aquarium. You had to be in diving gear to be able to survey the area.

Books, the globe, the sofa—the only things missing were corals and those things with fins and scales. I remember because I flipped through the pages of one book on the sidetable in the living room.

The apartment is located at one end of the floor. The police sealed the doors of the other units and created a dam. The apartment is on the something-eth floor of the so-and-so building. The windows were opened simultaneously by the divers, washing away the books, the globe, the sofa and everything else which didn’t have fins and scales onto the street below.

I thought it was stupid, because you can’t simply clean everything and make it go away.

i was sitting on a bench at the station, waiting for him. he finally arrived, wearing a backpack and carrying a Coleman water jug. he sat on the floor directly across and a few meters away from me. he showed me water bottles that he had (well i think they were water bottles), implying that he had those to share with me (don't ask me how i knew that). i stood up, walked, and sat on his left. i showed him sandwiches that i had to share with him (well i think they were sandwiches).

we were supposedly at a train station, but there was a guy playing a grand piano on the tracks. he looked like the kind of guy you'd see along the sidewalk who plays for coins. after his set was finished, another guy performed. there were a lot of people in the area, but they were just zooming past us.. as if it was only the two of us that mattered this that world.

i ran my fingers through his hair. i thought he would move away or seem uncomfortable. but he didn't and he wasn't.

i leaned and put my chin on his shoulder. i thought he would move away. instead, he leaned closer.

i knew that it probably did not mean anything to him because he loves another. but that didn't seem important anymore.

our foreheads were touching and the peripheral world whizzed around us. it all seemed so real: my heart was pounding and i could literally "feel the heat".

you know that scene in movies where the the couple has this "lingering" look before they kiss? at that moment, Everlasting Love (The Company version-- don't ask me why this is) played in the background.

Darling, did you know that something happened to us?
Right before the future and right after the past
Did you smile when you found out what a wonderful thing it was?
We found an everlasting love.

like, what the fuck, my dreams have music now too?! hanep.

nabisto ako ni pareng Sigmund Freud.


by the way, that was only the second part of my dream. before All That, i was supposedly at Bonifacio High Street (although it looked nothing like it), and i was with a guy friend. we entered a huge building which was supposedly a buddhist temple (although it looked like a mall), and there was this "priest" inside (he was just dressed in black and had a long beard). he led us upstairs where there were a lot of enormous creepy paintings and blank canvasses on the walls. there were other people on the floor, and it seemed that he was giving us a tour of the floor-turned-museum. the weird part of it was that when he's in front of a blank canvass, he waves his arm/ brush, and a chunk of the painting appears. the one painting he did that i remember was a painting of a blonde-haired girl in a pink dress-- because that girl was part of the group touring. his painting showed a smudged version of the girl's face, and it seemed as if the girl was crying. i remember being so creeped out by the whole thing that i decided to leave the building-- and eventually arrived at the train station.

i was walking inside a bar, and there was a band performing onstage. a girl, cropped hair and bright eyes, approached me. she had a lighter in her hand.

the next thing i knew was that the lighter was in my mouth and i could see her smiling through the flames.

unlike other people, i have breeding and good manners. how come i always have weird vivid dreams??


a woman's cellphone was stolen right in front of me. only i didn't see it because i was spaced out.


i'm probably the last person to notice, but Patrick Dempsey is really dreamy. but Happily Ever After really does not exist in this world.

i don't really remember where i was and who i was with, but this man came up to me and we started talking. apparently it was about something i was interested in, probably photography or career-related, because he asked me to look him up and i wrote his name on a piece of yellow paper which looked like a receipt. his name was Jerry Molina.

after that, i was with a friend, and we met a couple of guys. i got along well with one of them. i don't know where we were, but we were sitting on a red couch-- i was touching the fabric. again, i don't remember what we were talking about exactly, but he mentioned his father's name, and it was Jerry Molina. i said i met his father earlier that day and showed him the yellow paper.

end of dream.

i had another weird dream last night.

a girl went up to a guy and they made out. after kissing, the girl had this mischievous smile on her face and they parted ways. the girl met up with another guy who turns out to be her boyfriend. she then said that the previous guy took advantage of her, thinking that her buff boyfriend would beat the guy up. surprise, surprise: her boyfriend beat her up. he beat her and strangled her. what was weird was that when he was strangling her, it was in a first person perspective; it seemed that i was the one being strangled. then it changed to his point view. the girl's face became really scary, sort of like a banshee, with her hair flying all over. and when she screamed, the guy got freaked out and ran.

and i woke up.

and so i took out my pocket knife. her legs were spread out wide open, and i soon realized the irony of it all. it was easy.. inserting it and cutting her wide open. didn't notice the time until when i was finished. you know what they say: time flies when you're having fun. oh yeah, there were flies. dirty place, you know-- i don't recommend going there. but service is good. they cleaned up the place real fast.

did she say anything? no, not really. i don't think she saw what was coming. coming. heh. d'ya hear what i said? i said coming. hehehe. the irony of it all. and did i tell you that she was a virgin?

and then she told me that the most beautiful way to die is drowning. not just any drowning. we were talking about the ocean.

can you imagine? she said. imagine. not a cloud in the sky. the sun way, way up there. lying on your back. feeling the breeze on your face and waves caressing your body. that's the best part.

(and here she looked away.)

i think it's about two o'clock, she continued, and bent down to tie her shoelaces.

close your eyes and fall to the ocean floor.

and then i noticed that she was already staring at me. i was afraid for a second that i had something on my face. how would you want to die?

me? i thought. it was a startling question. me dying has never crossed my mind. i don't think it's even a possibility.

i cannot die.

i thought she would laugh at me for saying such an absurd thing. but she was just smiling.

someday, she said. i won't either.

i haven't been posting anything "read-able" for the past few weeks. things have been up and down more frequently than normal. reality basically slapped me in the face. it was difficult, and it hurt. but i'm glad that those things happened, and those words were said. it could be worse. some reality bytes:

• "great teams wax and wane."-- rick olivares. the ateneo blue booters have ended the 1st round of the UAAP football season with 1 win, the rest losses. sad to say, the 3-peat team is indeed gone. even with championship veterans pat ozaeta and gino tongson in the team, the majority of the roster is still composed of rookies. i want to get angry at some of them (especially the one by the name of kurt alvarez), but then i realized that it's not worth it, nor is it going to achieve anything. it's sad not seeing captain mickey ingles, best striker roger lastimado, mickee gimarino (the best midfielder for us!), alvin perez, jp merida, jerwin belina, jerome reyes, zaldy maranon, peter mortillero -- and all those players who we supported throughout college. i guess it's just sinked in recently that our batch is really gone. and the blue booter batch we now should support are the "new blood" -- rs mantos, jj clemente, james arco, jiggy sulit, gab siojo (yes, another siojo), mico noel, derick candelaria, and others who hope to continue the legacy.
• "what cannot be cured must be endured." --and i forgot what novel i got this from (hehe). i have come to accept the inevitable that is work. more specifically, working in IBM. i won't elaborate anymore since i have been ranting about this since forever. put simply, as long as i can handle it, i might as well stick with it. my manager actually gave me a rating i honestly feel like i don't deserve -- a 2! oh well, at least i'm getting paid (for doing things i don't like and for not caring about the company) -- i know it's not much of a consolation, but hey, i get to actually save this time.
  
• money isn't everything. i thought i would be happy just getting paid, but there's more to work AND life. i realized that i would rather do something i love and get paid very little, than getting a higher salary for do something i don't give a shit about. but for now, i'm surviving with the idea that i can eventually resign and that i am not alone --a lot of people in this world also hate their jobs. haha.
  
• "it's not a matter of compatibility; it's how you work things out." --my dad. and making it work is so much more difficult than what is anticipated.
  
• there is a God, and He is actually telling me something. i heard this passage thrice in 3 weeks already:

i thought that maybe, just maybe, God is telling me something.

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had a weird dream. there was a guy touching my ass (again).

i just read my blog. my whole blog. funny pathetic sad missing whatever. but absolutely NO REGRETS. it's nice to know that i have gone through those experiences and overcame whatever came my way. nakakapagbigay ng pag-asa sa akin ngayon.

and then i came across this post. super laughtrip! i was taking up HR Management during that time. kadiri. hindi na ako ganon. and it's funny, because i recently "reduced" that to a mere list that basically includes my "non-negotiables and preferred" qualities. i'll probably post it when the time is right :)

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i have been recently feeling... different. half the time i'm happy; half the time i'm scared. a different kind of scared. but it's not like i want to get out of it-- it's like i'm being pulled into a whirlpool and there's no way i can resist it. then again, i can't resist it because in the first place, i don't want to resist it. it's nice and it's not nice. most of the time i'm palpitating and i often feel like throwing up.

this is how i felt in one of my dreams. i was flying. i loved it, but when i wanted to get down, i just bounced and went up even higher. it was fun and scary. i remember waking up with my heart beating so fast.

i think it's close to the feeling i got after riding the Enchanted Kingdom's Space Shuttle for the first time.

ngayon lang talaga ito. nakakainis. i just want to get this over with.

(but then again, part of me doesn't.)

"Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot."

i love to dream. one of the reasons i like sleep is because i want to know what dream i'll remember when i wake up. and that is also why i absolutely love Neil Gaiman's Sandman. when i remember a dream, i make it a point to tell somebody, or else i will forget. why? because i believe we dream for a reason. what's the reason? i don't know. a view of our subconscious? prophesy? we can't tell for sure. but they are certainly entertaining, whether they are "sweet dreams" or nightmares.

it has been a while since i last remembered a dream, and it has been a while since i dreamt of something that i considered "significant." people have been telling me to write them down.. this is the first time.


i was wearing a white dress. and i was with somebody. it was a guy. we were walking on the beach... such soft, fine white sand. there were trees in the distance. i looked in between branches, as i usually do, to catch the sun's rays. it was peaceful.

when i looked at what was ahead of us, i saw a wooden structure, painted white, in the middle of the beach. i don't know what it's called, but it was huge, with four posts, no walls, and the roof was slitted-- not exactly a roof at all. there was a man under that structure. he seemed kind and fatherly. apparently, he was quite happy to see me. the guy i was with earlier was gone.

and there were birds. a lot of birds. birds which seemed like a cross between a stork and an eagle, but the sounded like crows. and they were above us, perched on the slits.

without saying anything, the man took out a piece of paper from his pocket: money. when he stretched out his hand, a bird swooped down and got the bill with its beak. for some reason, i was amused by this, and did the same. after a while, i looked up and saw that most of the birds were holding pieces of paper. i was tired of stretching my arm, and so what i did was grab a handful of bills and through them in the air. we were surrounded by sand, birds, and money.

and time seemed to slow down. for some seconds, everything was in slow motion as money floated and birds flew around me.

when time finally "normalized," i realized that i was alone. i looked around, and there was house near the trees.

the house, like everything else that surrounded me, was immaculately white. the only splash of color was the gate which was fire-engine red. i entered the gate, and the man who i was with earlier, came out from the side of the house. i was relieved to know that i was not alone and he has not left me.

and i thought, "There you are."


"'And then she woke up.' I suppose there are worse endings."