The Salud to '09 (A story)

Some days it’s easy to forget what you tried to build.

‘What are you trying to build?’

‘I’m not sure anymore. I’ve stopped working on it for so long that I forget.’

‘It sounds like some Utopian dream.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Coffee?’

‘No, thanks.’

The park is filled with people sprawled on the grass. The field is endless and you can barely see the roads and smog from over the coconut trees lining the edges. The two people were standing on the hill that sloped down onto the field where Christmas lanterns still clung to the branches like the hands of children trying to grope the stars.

‘I forgot about you.’ He said.

‘That I’m more than an idea?’ She chuckled. ‘That I brought on the crazy?’

‘Yeah.’ He answered, sighing as he drank in the sights, laughing.

‘Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.’ She said.

‘Is there?’ He turned to glance at her.

A slight pause.

‘No.’ She finally answered. Then she sighed. ‘No. I think I’m just lonely tonight.’

‘Do you like telling the truth?’

‘Can’t remember the last time I’d done so.’

She seemed nonchalant when she answered so he bit his tongue. No use pressuring her. She’d

talk when she was ready. After all, their meeting tonight was her idea.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed and about to go downstairs to use the computer. He had just come home from spending the day with the rest of his friends, and he was a just a little bit tipsy. It was 2:10 AM and he was in the lull between kinetic and inertia. Just about the time of day he didn’t know the first thing to do with himself. Then she called.

They met here.

‘I didn’t know that this place existed. Well,’ He muttered. ‘I knew it was here. But I didn’t know that...there was all this.’ His arm swept in the field.

‘Yeah.’ She agreed. ‘I didn’t know about it either. My grandmother told me about it just last night. Apparently when my mom and my aunts and uncle were small my grandparents took them here on New Year’s Eve to spend the night. This place used to be filled with people who were setting off fireworks and they’d bring blankets and tents here and the children would just run around and they’d all watch the sky.’

‘I’m amazed that it’s still allowed.’

‘It’s not.’ She smiled.

He looked at her. But she just continued to smile. She shrugged and the December breeze brushed by the both of them, ruffling their hair, which were both unruly. They looked like a pair of kids just after a game of tag. Or a couple of pelicans ruffled by the spray of crashing waves.

He nearly grinned at the thought. He liked flight. He thought that she did too until, well, she seemed to have lost her nerve a while back and was now just getting back her footing. He honestly did not know what to feel about that. Or what to make of it, for that matter. Not that he really cared.

He said her name out loud. How to phrase this.... ‘Is this illegal?’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ She sighed.

‘What if we get caught?’

‘We won’t.’ She answered, and then finally turned to look up at him. The December night was cold so she stuffed her hands into her pockets. She smiled softly. ‘It’s my dream. Nothing bad will happen to you here.’

Suddenly the pieces fell together.

‘Thank you.’ He told her and smiled.

‘Welcome.’ She smiled then turned to gaze up at the sky.

He studied the midnight as well. ‘There are no stars tonight.’ He observed.

‘Oh, I’m sure they’re out there.’ She waved her hand, smiling up at the ocean of midnight hue. ‘You just need a little light to see them, that’s all.’

He waited, his pulse rising slowly but surely to his throat.

And then...

...she laughed...

FIREWORKS.

Fragmented light exploded across the sky. Everything is illuminated.

People clapped and applauded.

Children jumped, pointed at the sky, shouted.

Everyone was happy and neither of the two observers was aware of the wide smile on his or her face.

‘It’s so real!’ He said laughing, wanting to cover his ears from the noise.

‘It is,’ She breathed softly, agreeing with him. Still watching the lights.

‘Everything is so loud!’

‘No,’ She then turned to face him. ‘The noise you hear is coming from outside your window.’ She was smiling. ‘It must be the New Year already.’ She breathed out his name, her eyes bright.

‘What?’ He studied her eyes, her expression made him smile.

‘It’s time to wake up.’

- 12/31/2008

Dreaming a dream. Is it over?

So I dreamed that there was an earthquake.

Or rather I dreamt about finding out about an earthquake.

My mom was telling me about it over breakfast.

Surprised, I said, "When did it happen?"

"Just this morning." Then as she was reaching for the blueberry jam, she said, "I think C is dead."

A large pause. Blankness blanketed my mind.

"What?" I exclaimed in disbelief. "He could not be dead! How do you know?"

"I saw him and his father on the news."

"What - " I paused and tried to rack my brain, trying to remember something that I wasn't aware of had just happened.

And a mental picture, sort of like a random "memory" popped up and the small square of toast I was eating was still perched halfway to my lips. Indeed, I "remembered" seeing a newsclip showing C trying to wade his way over a river of rubble, with his dad following a few meters behind.

And sort of like an immediate realization hit me on impact a moment later.

"Mommy, C is dead! I can't live without him. What am I going to do now?" Although in my mind the words came out in a lament not deep enough to fully awaken my heart to any serious pain. The words, instead, as I said it aloud...sounded more like a whine.

'Of course you can!' Mommy said, waving her hand in my direction. She was already busy doing something else.

Then I remember something else happen:

I went to the corner of the room, near the windows where the white curtains were draped and pulled to a close, and I prayed.

My prayer went something like this:

'God, please don't let anything have happened to Joshua and C. Please don't let anything bad happen to Joshua and C......'

And then later I woke up.

I remember the room was still dark. It felt around 4.30 AM in the morning. I sat up in bed, propped myself up with the palm of my hand pressed down on the bed. My hair, as I saw myself later in the mirror, dishevelled and decorated with long curls big enough to give La Union's tidal waves a run for their money.

In those initial moments after the weird dream occured, I was just sitting quiet listening to myself - with grogginess tending to leave the brain blank and addled. It wasn't difficult to recall what I had just dreamed. And also what I had felt during the dream:

Nothing. A distant mourning and regret, at some point. But without any pain that truly pierced me.

In fact, during the dream and afterwards I felt like how a drugged patient in a mental facility must feel: slow, confused, distant, self-contained, floating, mildly ironic.

I write this down simply because two things surprise me:

1. The way I "unconsciously" reacted to the scenario. And my reaction, in particular, to someone named C----------------. I thought that in the least, whichever way I would have felt would have been....uh, Stronger.

2. The vehemence and suddenness with which I included and even centered my prayer to God around Josh.

There really is no appropriate ending for this general diary entry.

This may be because there are still previous dreams concerning the subject (whatever that is - death perhaps? Or the hidden meaning behind death? Or the hidden meaning behind the hidden meaning of death? etc...) or the people I had before this one. Suffice to say, life is but one big puzzle - and one that is yet unsolved! Woohoo! - and dreams are merely fleeting spiritual orgasms that come to you from the culmination of your current mentality, unexpressed emotions and may even come to you by the supreme pity or in utmost confidence of the Universal Deities.

So there is no diagnosis or anaylsis I'd like to scribble down here. If I have any, I think its only proper to keep my lips shut and keep it stored on a mental shelf for any future reference.

All I would like to say is that I had a dream.

And then I woke up.