I dream.

A wise man once said that dreams come from the past not from the future and that one should control their dreams not the other way around. But I'm sure, I am sure, there are times you just feel that you are lost in a dream, endlessly wandering, or pointlessly following, a victim, a player, a spectator to the machinations of the sleeping mind, as such I pose this question to this wise man--who then is the ruler of our dreams?

Seldom have I felt the pervasive quality of a dream, one that truly haunts your entire being as soon as you open your eyes. Sure I've had nightmares and metaphorical or literal manifestations of my desires, but all of them leave me with a slightly bitter aftertaste that slowly fades once reality supplants itself over the dream. What I'm talking about is a dream that bequeaths a rancor, you don't know to whom or why, you just feel it, as if your dream has made itself a reality, as if your mind has breathed life into it, as if you are still dreaming. Seldom have I felt this, though recently I did, it's not something I want to experience again.

Honesty

"I like you."

'I like you also..."

"Oh,"

"But...I'm not sure if I want a relationship right now."

"Oh..."

"Yup, I'm sorry. Could you wait until I know that I want a relationship?"

"Well honestly, if I'm going to wait...I'd rather wait for someone else."

Flustered.

If i get this anxious when I subtly ask her out...I might actually die of a heart-attack if ever I do confess to her.

I should be past this phase already.

Easy.

that was...unique. If there was one word to describe that day it would be "nostalgic". Not that, I don't usually spend my time reminiscing, i do quite often actually, it's just there something different this time around. Might be the air, the people, or the painfully sweet brownie. I don't know exactly. The only thing I do know was that there was something that clicked inside me.

Time capsules aren't the most innovative things, but I'm really thinking of investing on one.

Karaoke

Taken into context, it's not a bad thing. But when you start to pick it apart, it gets so depressing.You peel back all the layers and get down to the inside. But sometimes you lose sight of what you were trying to find. It's that sort of thing that makes you think too much. That sort of thing that makes you lose all your objectivity.

So, if you made it. Just be glad you did and stay there. If you ever feel loved and needed, consider yourself as one of the lucky ones. And if it is over, remember that it was bound to happen. So just keep moving on, there are no perfect endings.

Awkward.

"Yes or No, iinom ako" - Mario Narciso A. Marcelo 2012

Well, I can honestly say I have never felt so nervous as I am right now. To a point that I'm constrained to blogger to express my emotions, since she can see me in twitter and in facebook. Now, you might ask me why I'm posting online if I don't want other people to see. Well, to answer that, I don't really think anyone would read this. I just like to write to relieve my feelings. I write when I'm sad, depressed, or angry. I create my stories, little movies in my head, or heart-wrenching one-liners. However, as of right now, I'm writing for different purposes. I remember one close friend telling me that "sometimes we find that the meaning of writing is opposite of what we intend." As this is the case, where i don't write because of any ill torment or evil, rather I think i'm writing for something lighter. Anxiety. Well technically anxiety is something bad, but the way I look at it, it's something bitter-sweet. A marriage between hope and dread, a melding of expectation and renunciation, the being of one of happiness and regret. Sort of like asking someone out for the first time.........yup, exactly like that.

P.s.
My my, blogger has changed a lot. I am confused. hahaha

"Well, this is awkward."

Phone rings at 1:42 a.m.

I wake up and answer the phone.

"Is this RC Marcelo?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, who is this?" I say while trying to hear a reply from the other side; the song Moves like Jagger in the background.

"RC you are a very nice person. I think it's time you should be nice to yourself."

"Um, thank you. Can you please tell me your name?" I ask.

"My name is Ken."

"And how do I know you exactly?"

"Because you're a really nice person."

"Oh, okay."

"RC."

"Yes?"

"Remember what I told you." He replies ominously.

He hangs up the phone. I look at the clock. 1:45 a.m. I check to see if I'm still dreaming. I'm not. I lie down, unable to sleep.

~~~~

This is a true story. Honestly, it must sound self-indulgent to you, but I assure you that this really happened. An insightful and memorable anecdote I will carry in my life. Though, I must say, this does creep me out a bit. Whoever was responsible for this, I know had good intentions, but the delivery was too mysterious and enigmatic for my sensibilities. I'm very fond of Haruki Murakami stories, and this strange occurrence seemed like it would fit into one of them. A mysterious phone call, a distant yet very familiar caller, a curt ending, and an insightful message (See Wind-up Bird Chronicle). After going through that experience, I find myself unable to sleep. This random event bemuses me, and I find myself lost in thought. So I write to entice sleep, hopefully I'll reach that objective. I guess my thoughts can be saved for a later post, for now I write only to post a marker, or maybe even a will. That this proves my intuition, my precognition of what might happen to me in the near future, as I may end up like a protagonist in a Murakami story. I might see an elephant vanish, or maybe meet a previous love, or maybe get lost in greece, or maybe rob a McDonalds, or find the 100% perfect person, or eat some sharpie cakes, or maybe just end up waiting for something extraordinary to happen yet end up living an objectively normal life. Maybe I should just stop thinking too much about things. That seems about right. Goodnight then :)