And I dreamed.

I dreamed of the weirdest dream.

I dreamed that my mother sold her soul to the devil all for the hopes of assuring my brother's slot in the UPCAT passers. "Para kayong tanga," I remember myself saying this in my sleep.

I dreamed of the scariest dream.

I dreamed that Kevin Gatchalian, my classmate and friend, was dead. I swear. I even saw him inside his own coffin. The left side of his head was swollen it looked like it was ready to burst anytime. I cried. Because inside that coffin was Kevin himself. It was Kevin. There was no mistaking in that. But the scene shifted, and panned, camera-like, on Kevin himself. Kevin was alive, after all. I told him, "Patay ka na, di ba?" And he said, "Joke lang 'yun!" He was laughing. What the fuck is that, huh? I didn't know whether I was the one who was dead when I was talking to a live Kevin, or he wasn't really dead.

I dreamed of the most romantic dream.

I dreamed that I was going to be wedded to a man. OF COURSE, A MAN. I don't know him in the real life, but in my dream, I was more than happy to tie the knot with him! In there, I felt like I had known him all my life. I seldom have colored dreams, but this one luckily fell into that category. I was wearing a pink taffeta bridal gown, and was holding sunflowers. A whole bunch of them. I was all ready to walk down the aisle, but many things interrupted the ceremony. I couldn't remember what they were, but I knew they happened. Louie was the best man. How's that? How's that? But in my dream, he wasn't at all affected. I don't know what the hell's wrong with the film of my dream, but everything fitted perfectly. Everything was simply perfect. Even the way my groom held my hand in his was perfect. And I was so happy.

I wish I would be able to have the second parts of these dreams.