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Fantasize
Wednesday, May 27, 2009

It's disturbing how I dream so vividly. At times, even the physical aspect of dreams, like texture and taste, is as real as one can get. At times, they're blessings. Only until you realize they're dreams, and you sigh and wish it was real. At times, they bring very realistic suffering.

At around 3 or 4 in the morning, I escaped my deep slumber because it depicted scenes too hurtful for my weak self. I got the news that my father passed away, and I couldn't accept it. When I did try to process it, I burst out crying and wailed. I could see my entire family utterly idle. Their faces were blank. Then I saw my Dad walking with newspapers, saw me, and dashed off. Apparently, everyone was kidding me. They were all watching me suffer. I had to wake up, probably out of relief that the source of my potential Y chromosomes isn't going to be A) buried 6 feet under mud, or B) burned and reduced to a jar of dirt.

At 5:30 AM, I woke up again. I can't remember the exact details, but that the boy I'm with without the officiality of labels started telling me about these girls that he liked, who had no idea he liked them. They're named Marietta and Ronda. It was just like the times before we liked each other, and my dream-version of self realized it's him telling me he didn't like me anymore. So I woke up.

Around 3PM, I fell asleep. The dream was long, and vivid. My Mom locked me up in a room, without any form of communication. The place was this big university and I asked a friend to set up large videocameras so that I could see my Mom from places. Or was it her who set up the videocameras to see me? Anyway, my Mom was in leiu with my cousin Eliza who was partly on my side. Mom was asking Eliza to find the husband she wanted for me. He was a short, thin, really smart 14-year old. It was awful. And then Tep and Nela came to my room to wake me up, to tell my my grandmother was shot at the chest while praying at Quiapo, that she was in a critical condition and no one in the house bothered to wake me up and tell me. When I found out that my grandmother was safe, that was when my real self deviated from my dream self and I woke up.

A series of bad dreams could only foreshadow bad things. Today, it meant that the Cavs will lose.
I want a series of GOOD DREAMS tonight, so that the Lakers will win tomorrow.

My dreams are too vivid for my own good.

Photobucket
19:13

Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

Photobucket

Bianca Ruiz;
17;
Assumption Antipolo;
Ateneo de Manila University;
Management Engineering;
Occupation: Professional sleeper; Addiction: The faded era of the orange ball & persuation & color pigments;
True Addiction: Me&You.

Out To Me

Dead
Double Dead
Y!M
anca613703@yahoo.com
Email
anca613703@yahoo.com
mariabiancaleanneruiz@yahoo.com
biancaruizmatters@yahoo.com

I Constantly Thank God For Esteban Hearts

* scent of paint
* Books (with the S)
* Debate!
* Basketball (End Here)
* Tickets and jellybeans
* Reese's
* sofas
* Da Vinci, Monet, Progress, Progressive
* loving && much more loving
* Touch screen @-)
* Candy && Chocolate Bars && String Cheese!

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