  Single me… out… ANOTHER DREAM Well I had another dream again. This was freaky as it was again about water. Someone needed to be rescuing and I didn’t jump in or anything at all. She was as good as dead and I just stood there and watched this creature devour her. When I did move it was just to see if she was still alive and I watched her guts spill out of her open wounds. It was weird cause underneath her skin, the muscle disintegrated.
I just watched someone get killed and I the so called hero… didn’t care. No fire, no passion, and no remorse. Then I find myself in intramuros walking the very dark and forgotten cobbled streets of the ancient city. Unfortunately its not the modern times, I remember the date and it happened to be the time of the cholera epidemic during the late 1800’s. People were dropping like flies as I walked and made my way through the gaslit avenues. Men were talking to me in desperation.
Something important but I didn’t care… so I kept walking on. Then I woke up… turned the fan on and went to the kitchen for water. It was still dark, and my eyes were too dry to open. I went back to bed after taking one swig of the glass. BEING YOUNG Johnny texted me and asked me if I was afraid of death. I said sometimes.
I told him that sometimes we fear it and sometimes we don’t even care. When I’m at my happiest I wish I ‘d die. When I was still a devout catholic, I did all my requirements and accumulated my graces. I followed it all to the letter of strict Opus Dei regulations of what a good catholic is. It was difficult… strict control of thoughts as well as avoiding occasions of sin. I didn’t enjoy it… in fact I hated it.
But I was always told that heaven would be the reward for those who lived by it’s rules. What’s the point of heaven when you can never appreciate life. Be a good catholic and do all this so that you can die happy. I was a teenager who wanted to die before even my life began. One can easily see the flaw in the teaching and what was so wrong with all of it. A religion that tells us to die before we even had a chance to live is a CULT not a religion.
Anyway… I didn’t tell Johnny all that. I just told him that fearing death is one of the things that isn’t that important to dwell on. But then again hes 14 and hell be pondering about it philosophically and feel like an expert like all teenagers. I was once arrogant, foolish, stupid, and young. At 24 I couldn’t do the things I used to do when I was 20. In fact I get cramps now… I never got cramps till now.
I never knew how it was to push beyond my bodies limits. When you get older, you find those limits and the nail you down. Well me for my case. I had my mind now with my age and opportunity then… the happiness of breezing through life and taking the opportunities I missed because of raw stupidly and ignorance (because of being a religious freak) the adventures I could have had and the evils I would have avoided. But then I get shot down back to earth… Reality feels like a toxin seeping into my pores, hiding in the air I breathe, and hovering over me like a warden, ready to pump me with rubber bullets. ANOTHER TIME I used to draw little comics about a character who was me and his family.
It came of as a children’s book where it’s a single father and his two children. A comic of how Jade the six year old little girl would take care of her little brother Jeremy. How they played in the garden, or how she taught him to speak, or how the played in the house. Their father would always make breakfast and dinner, as well as fix the house. They would be dropped off their grandparents who lived nearby while their dad went to work, and always came to fetch them after wards. Although the drawings were depressing to look at.
Cause I always drew Jade and Jeremy in an empty house waiting for their dad to come home late from work. I guess that’s what some men really want… a reason. A reason to go home or to go on… 
