While doing my yoga practice early today, I recalled images from my most recent dream that took place last night. I saw my Aunt, my Mom’s eldest sister, who is a physician (OB-GYN). I saw some other relatives, too, and we were having some thing like a reunion to my eyes. I recall we we’re having a serious discussion. I recall being angry in the dream at such level that I blurted out that I want to get rid of my last name as my entire family. Of course, everybody was shocked. My Aunt couldn’t say a thing. The gathering went on and on. And I woke up from sleep after hearing some noises from my roommates who were going down the stairs, and probably preparing for this Memorial Day’s celebration.
I recall seeing during my sleep last night in my dream one of those officemates I had with when I was still with in Itochu Corporation (Manila Branch). He’s a very nice looking Chinese-descent fellow, married, from the upper middleclass, and graduated from the Ateneo de Manila University. He spent a few years with the same company with us, and I know he became a CEO of a technology-related company back in the Philippines. I know that he moved his family and himself to Canada. I wonder if he’s doing good or if he’s in good health. I wonder why I saw him in my dreams last night, but I can’t recall the details. I also had another dream last night, which I can’t recall, too.
Why do I see characters like this former officemate of mine? He and I were not exactly close but we’ve known each other well enough. We’re friendly to each other. We just don’t belong to the same milieu, hence, we don’t have much to connect with. I really hope he’s doing good. This gives me an idea that i have to contact him on Facebook where we are still connected. I can work on getting connected with him. Let’s see how it will go from there.
I just got back from the regional convention of Market America / shop.com where I have partnered with for some time now, and we were in Ocean City, Maryland with so many of my partners and their guests. I shared a room with Ed and Mel during this trip, and our room faces the main road of the island that is connected with several bridges to mainland Maryland. The first night, I woke up at around 4am and saw a guy who’s wearing a white t-shirt and who was walking towards the bed next to the window and where Ed, who is a very strong snorer, was sleeping. “He must have gone back from the bathroom and now on his way back to bed,” I told myself while lying on that bed that I was sharing with Mel, and our bed is closer to the bathroom. I didn’t bother to get up right away and decided to go back to sleep as I told myself “Oh, the fourth guy arrived last night as what Mel told me.” And soon we were up in an hour or so to prepare for the long day ahead of us that Saturday.
I would ask my roommates who was the guy I saw earlier, and I would realized that there was no fourth guy who showed up last night. I didn’t really bother to ask for more details as I didn’t want to scare my roommates and didn’t want to create some unnecessary confusion. We all went about doing all the activities we’ve set up for the day with our partners and guests.
The next evening, I had a very bad dream. I heard my brother, Bikong (Angelito, Jr), calling for help. I would see myself in the bad dream looking into a hole on the wall where the stairs leading to the second floor apartment have been placed. I could figure out that my brother’s voice was coming from that hole. I would recall seeing the place where our family used to live in Sibuyan Street in Santa Mesa Heights in Quezon City in the Philippines at least 30 years ago. I would hear myself asking help from my Mother whom I’ve not seen for over 8 years now. Then I was shaken from my bad dream by Mel. He told me I was talking in my sleep but by then, it was already past 5am. I soon got up to head off to the bathroom to pee and I soon went down to settle the bill. In the elevator, I would recall some details of the dream. I could sense something ghostly in the elevator where I was alone as I was going down to go to the ground floor for the front desk.
I’m wondering now if something very grim happened some time ago in that hotel.
It must be borne in mind that the tragedy in life doesn’t lie in not reaching your goal. The tragedy lies in having no goal to reach. It isn’t a calamity to die with dreams unfulfilled, but it is a calamity not to dream. It is not a disaster to be unable to capture your ideal, but it is a disaster to have no ideal to capture. It is not a disgrace not to reach the stars, but it is a disgrace not to have stars to reach for. Not failure, but low aim is sin. (Dr. Benjamin Elijah Mays)
I saw this link from my Facebook page, and thought the poem’s very outstanding, very much free form, and has allowed me to imagine about some details of some dreams I had in past, very long time ago, that continue to hound me. Its lines are so direct and decidedly undramatic. Reading it, I thought I was watching a brief video on YouTube…Read one of those poems that I believe helps describes the dreaming process each one of us have, and which poem I’ve gathered another online source: Roberto Bolaño’s Devotion by Roberto Bolaño | NYRblog | The New York Review of Books.
Each night we are offered a doorway to infinity: our dreaming life. And when the dreamscape is explored via the heart’s wisdom, the waking world becomes bathed in wonder.
Last night, I dreamed of a friend whose father (who’s a retired policeman, with a second family) recently died appeared up in my dream. He still looked pretty much the same as the last time I saw him. Although I know he looked a bit depressed and tired. We were both naked but we were not doing anything that is intimate at all. I remember having felt no attraction at him at ll.
Then came three, thin young black men with long limbs, shaved heads who showed up in the space next to where we were located inside a dark room. They were soon having sex with each other, mindlessly, and oblivious to our presence. I wasn’t paying any attention at all and they served as background to my friend and myself. The room looked like a boarding house, where people without much money and no place to stay for the night would show up. It seems like my friend rents out a space in that place.
Then came a well-built brown-skinned middle-aged looking fellow. And he removed all his clothing. He looks like a typical good-looking, healthy Filipino. A mildly erect, huge penis hangs on him, and I asked if he wanted me to give him a blowjob. And he agreed most willingly. And we proceeded to do all the works. I remember his penis being in my mouth, and I couldn’t take it all in. My friend, that guy and myself were all having the time of our lives.
And then it ended after I heard the noise made by my neighbor upstairs who’d be going to work in the hospital .
I recall the number 5 or 4 train of the MTA system here in NYC being mentioned in a most recent dream. I also recall a friend whom I’ve not seen for some time now. And he has been calling me on the phone and trying to fix a schedule with me so that he can sleep over in the place where I live here in Staten Island. I was not actually against the idea, as long as he would not mind being in a bedroom that is filled with books nearly up to the ceiling. And I was amused by him having to call me quite suddenly. as if there’s something urgent happening that I had to be involved with right away.
Upon waking up, I thought this could be a death premonition. I recall the number ‘4’ is a symbol death, although it was just mentioned in passing as in my friend was asking me about the last stop of the 4 train (which is Woodlawn on Jerome Avenue in the Bronx). Or if it was the 5 he was referring to, it would be Eastchester-Dyre Avenue also in the Bronx). The word ‘Dyre’ sound like ‘die’ when pronounced. And what else came into my mind is that my friend may probably soon pass on. Do I have to call him and have a chat with him? I’ve no major issues with him; I just prefer not being turned into a doormat every time I meet up with him. And I didn’t want to feel like I’m living in an undesirable place, which I feel every time I hear him mention Staten Island. He’d imply this place as being the trash depot of NYC, which certainly it was for so many years, but which specific place has been gradually turned into a greenery where an emerging park (Fresh Kills Park) 3 times larger than Central Park now stands. And that landfill was also used by so many workers to sort out and identify the collected remains of those who perished from the Twin Towers in 9/11; a nearby spot can be visited where the rest have been buried (with un-identifiable human remains).
By the way, this friend also appears in my first book, Angels In Disguise (with its blog link here), but I don’t remember telling him about it. His name was not directly mentioned at all in the pages; he would know right away that it’s him that I was talking about when he gets to read the book. Probably, my dream about him could be more related to this fact. I have to contact him so I can tell him about the book one of these days.
- Should we be allowing sleepovers? (jennyonthespot.com)
- The dreaded question….. Can I sleepover? (howifeel2day.wordpress.com)
- The Safety of Sleepovers: I Don’t Trust Other Parents (blogher.com)
- Sleepovers (enjoythejourney1995.wordpress.com)