Wednesday, June 08, 2005

sucking blackhole

Procrastination has a luscious appeal to me. I’m supposed to whip something up about Bamboo and Mishka Adams for my other job. But here I am, writing this stupid post instead. Wasting what little time I have is something I’m adept at. It’s sheer joy. It’s bliss. Like marinating your dendrites in vodka before a major exam.

I feel I have the right to laze around because this morning, I had a dream. And I don’t usually dream. Dreams are as ridiculously remote to me as those million-dollar vintage items being auctioned off on eBay. So it’s either my body is in dire need of defragmentation or the universe is about to implode and it’s telling me to sort out my fucked up existence before it sends my ass whirling into some hungry blackhole that will suck me in like a blowjob. Either way, the best thing to do is to bum around. Relax. Chill out. Take off your shoes and philosophize about your wiggling toes. That’s the way to go when dreams suddenly appear like warts in your sleep.

Anyhow, about my dream. This is how I remember it, more or less:

I am in a darkened drawing room with badly upholstered couches and shoddy armchairs (funny, it reminds me of Cez’s living room in Rosario). I am taking a foreign language class with a handful of classmates slouched on the sofa. Suddenly, the sliding door opens and in comes a friend (who is now in the States) from Lingua Franca. She’s dressed in an elegant, sexy red gown with a sprinkling of red sequins or red swarowski diamonds. I am surprised to find her in Manila. She pulls me out of the room and puts her arms around me. Then she kisses me on the mouth. I notice the smudged rouge on her lips. I wipe it with my right hand. Then we kiss again, this time, I initiate it, but without tongue acrobatics, just moist lips and saliva and smeared lipstick.

And then I wake up.

Ok, that’s just it. I have no psychological babble, sexual or otherwise, to go with that. Freud can fuck Jung for all I care. Dreams don’t mean much to me, not unless they are of the wet variety. If that’s the case, then bring it on every night. I won’t mind. The sheets can always be laundered afterwards.

So why am I blogging about this dream if it means nothing to me? I’m wasting my time, remember? What better way to spend those precious minutes than by rambling on about some aborted, potentially erotic dream. But just the same, I did inform the girl about it. I left a message in her Yahoo Messenger, telling her that we just kissed in my dream. For all I know, the universe has already sent her to some fellatio-obsessed blackhole or something.

A sucking blackhole. I like that. I should dream about it next time. I wonder if it swallows.


At 4:09 PM, Blogger transience said...

dreams are blowjobs for the brain. trust me. not that i have had any blowjobs, mind you, but since you are male, this seems like an ungodly comment.


dreams are blowjobs/cunnies for the brain. depending on your gender. and this is supposed to be a comment that will waste your times as you read it.

i hope it accomplished loads.

At 4:48 PM, Blogger weng said...

so this is why this post is intriguing:

1) i wonder how exciting that other job is
2) if this is what comes out of procrastination, then by all means do laze around, we wound't care a bit
3) sucked in like a blowjob, need i say more
4) absence of tongue action is something i don't get, mwehe
5) freud fucking jung! haha! made my freaking day!

At 6:51 PM, Blogger rmacapobre said...

there was a time when i recorded every dream i had every night (or everytime i had any) and there had been a number which come true years after. it could just be self fulfillment or fate (which i know squat about). either way its interesting to observe and make a connection.

there was a columnist i forget his name. dr. lichauco i think. he makes sensible dream interpretations for free in his column. i know because i was featured once .. it was amazing .. its like getting published anonymously .. ^_^

At 10:39 AM, Blogger slim whale said...


then my brain must not be having great sex lately. no wonder i'm so fucked up.


1) it's not. believe me.
2) procrastination should be a major requirement in any job
3) what else sucks better than that?
4) i don't get it too.
5) he loves fucking people. no, he loves fucking in general.


wow, you must be clairvoyant or something. i sometimes read dr. lichauco's column. he writes about pretty interesting stuff.

do you have recurrent dreams or themes in your dreams? they say it's supposed to mean something. i envy people who dream every night. my sleep is always so boring. did lichauco say something about people who rarely dream? am i a freak?

At 1:18 PM, Blogger sky said...

You didn't mention the tent you made with a moist top when you woke up.

At 5:56 PM, Blogger slim whale said...


was it the tent? no wonder it tasted like shit


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