Dreaming of Friends, Acquaintances and Some French Toasts
This morning, a lady-writer friend of mine, (a popular Tagalog romance novelist), sent me a PM through Facebook Messenger, asking me if I was okay because she had dreamt of me twice these past few days. I told her I was fine, and it was good to hear that she was doing okay, too, and that I was looking forward to dreaming of her, too. Lol. Coincidentally, I also had been dreaming of some Facebook friends/acquaintances these days including her, friends and acquaintances (and even relatives) whom I haven’t seen since the pandemic started.
In fact, last night (some details are still fresh in my mind) I dreamt of myself standing outside an apartment building (a real building just a few meters away from our house, one that is occupied by mostly Chinese) while holding some documents, which, I thought in my dream, lacked some pertinent parts. As I was waiting for I didn’t know what, a group of elderly Chinese people came out of the building and stood near me, they were quiet and polite. Then, a van stopped in front of us and I went inside and saw Caucasians inside who were all talking loudly. When I alighted, I saw that I was in the middle of two rows of residential houses, and found myself looking for a female Facebook friend (someone who I haven’t met personally; she only sent me a friend request because we have some common Facebook friends). I saw her, and in the dream we talked (I had forgotten the gist of our conversation but the documents in my hand were gone).
It was a nonsensical dream, but then, most of dreams are, especially in these stress-filled and virus-filled days. I woke up from it, had some coffee and French toasts and saw in the news that our president had suffered a freak accident: he fell into a giant shredder and died in the most cruel and painful way.
But then, I woke up again—it turned out I still was
dreaming. And I thought the country was up for some celebration, er, I mean, mourning.
Pity, I was still savoring the French toast.
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