Judgmental fool, eh? Lt. Anahata wants you to go back to grammar school as the end is near!
According to my dream, there was this bitchy blonde girl who is a portrait of bitterness and unhappiness. She mistreats everyone, especially her ex-boyfriend’s current flame. I forgot the actual instances when she did.
This kontrabida happens to be in the cheerleading team, too. She’s being particularly competitive to me. This covers dissing my suggested routines and orchestrating injury-inducing acts when it’s my turn to perform.
No, I’m not on FormSpring *yet* but I can answer that question on your head: YES, I was a part of my high school section’s cheerleading team. Shocking? I know.
Here’s the weird part: I get charged when I run out of energy. So imagine myself pulling up my skimpy cheerleader skirt and insert a charger on my ass when I feel tired. Sick, eh?
Anyway, that detail needs to be stated as the ending scene of my claymation dream shows my boy friend-turned-boyfriend pulled out the charger from my ass. In public. Nope, nobody got offended. It’s like it’s the most natural thing on clay world. After he did, I gave him a hug and admitted in a tender whisper that I felt a slight pain when he “unplugged me hard”.
No, I don’t recognize any familiar faces from the carefully-crafted characters. I’m not even sure if my clay counterpart were faithful to my actual appearance. But, hey, it was a real good one!
Needless to say, I miss this guy. We used to have engaging conversations about cool series like Nip/Tuck, sound trip during break times (he sneaks his iPod inside) and everything else under the sun. I guess this longing for him was heightened by last night’s visit in Amici. Along with other friends, we once had a meal in this place and hung out in Starbucks nearby when he went back for a vacation. I remember giving him a t-shirt a bit smaller than his size then. He reacted, “It’s ok. Malapit na akong maging small,” Classic!
So we’re together one late afternoon. We were holding hands as we embarked on a long walk. He sounded very excited to show me something. I remember looking up at him intently and noticed how his face had changed. The usual boyish looks gave way to a rough, street-smart exterior. Must be the stubble.
When we finally reached our destination, he sat for a moment to tie his shoelaces. I remained standing before a closed door, thinking I was seconds away from being introduced to his new love. The apartment owner’s maid saw us and told me nobody’s home. She was holding a green basin and, when we agreed to leave, she went inside.
Bong said we can go elsewhere. But I can’t remember how this dream ended.