I woke up at 3 am this morning with the phone ringing. It was from a very good friend from Paris who, thinking that it was Saturday Sunday, the weekend, thought I just came from a night of tequilla, funky music and reckless abandonment. Well, I wish, but since I had WORK on a SUNDAY, I couldn't possibly stay up all night, ergo the reason why I slept early and was rudely awaken (kidding mi amore, you still owe me a phonecall, by the way). We talked for like five minutes and I wanted to talk more but I was waaaay too knackered and sleepy and bothered (I'll explain later). She let me go after five minutes with a promised callback the next day (I'm still waiting....)
Now, on with what bothered me that unholy hour.
You see, I was dreaming before Shaz (hehe mwah) woke me. I think it was good that the phone woke me because the thing with most of my dreams is that I forget them the next day. I guess waking up with the phone ringing kept the dream fresh in my cerebral cortex. I dreamt I was back in my old uni, all shy, naive, gum chewing, Jesus loving (still do, by the way) and a small-town-boy-with-a-tommy-page-haircut humanities major studying in some school whatshisname near the red light district in Manila. What was weird about this dream was that I was wearing something, hehe (which was a breakthrough considering that most of my dreams could be censored by the MTRCB, FCC and the Vatican for mere exposure, kissing aaaaaaand #@^%$#). Anyways, I was wearing something white, like I just came out of a detergent commercial. In fact I smelled like I just came out of a laundromat. Very Tide Ultra, I must say. There I was, all squeaky clean and whiter than a Klu Klux Klan acolyte ready to burn someone (like some white guy named GWB) when I caught another scent... something ethereal, something earthy. SOMETHING VANILLA.
I followed the scent and it led me to, lo and behold some dude in a white shirt and dirty blue jeans, and a waaaaay cute face. Maaaaaaaaaaaaan the face of this 20 something guy in front of me was a sight to look at. He was I dunno, more than attractive, more than sexy, more of something I cannot pinpoint. Maybe it was the vanilla. Then, like an epiphany, I realized that I knew this guy. This vanilla guy in front me, somehow I knew him. There was something vaguely familiar about his face. Then vanilla guy, sensing my (gawking)awe, spoke to me. His voice was, I dunno how to describe it. Different. I could have creamed in my pants if he spoke my name. Good thing he didn't. Instead he said his name. He said he was Ronnie Poe. FERNANDO POE JR.
Yes, FCUKING Fernando Poe, Jr was standing in front of me, in his friggin 20's with just a white shirt and a pair of dirty blue jeans that seem to cling to his lower extremeties like there was no tomorrow. Not to mention the Vanilla scent that he keeps emitting. Maaaan if this was a wet dream, I never want to wake up (Sorry readers, my dream was all wholesome and soft core, hehe. and besides if it were hard core you'd never see it in THIS BLOG!).
Moving on.
So, here I was standing (more like DROOLING) over the King of Philippine Cinema, the Panday (Blacksmith), while the twenty something Ronnie is smiling at me asking me where MY MOTHER WAS?!?!?!? We we're going to a room (a classroom you perves!), I was carrying his bag, then he asks me WHERE MY MOTHER WAS! AARRRGH. I was drowning in his scent. I was like so close to him. I felt like melting there and then he gives me the MOTHER CARD! Well, I was stupid enuff to answer. I told Ronnie (hehe, we were in first name basis now) that she was attending some conference ( I don't know why the hell I said that). Then all of a sudden, he smiled and started to poke me in my side. Hehe, well, I'm kinda like ticklish on the sides so I was like giggling like a fcuking schoolboy in front of his highschool crush. It was sooo trippy being with him. Then he asked the weirdest favor. He asked me if I could help him change his clothes!!!!! then i started to feel dizzy and stuff, then his vanilla scent was getting stronger and stronger, his face became clearer and clearer, his whole body was coming closer and closer to mine then out of the corner of my eye, I saw my best friend Allan with some anonymous classmate of mine giving me a wink, somehow telling me to go for it, say "YES". I was about to respond to his request when I heard from some distant plane a PHONE RINGING.
Then I woke up and the rest was recollection.
I can still smell the vanilla while I'm writing this blog entry. God, if only Freud were here (like he'd make a difference!). That scent, that voice, that face.
While I was at work, I kept thinkin to myself why I dreamt of Fernando Poe, Jr. I mean, there must be a reason. I thought about the food I ate the night before. I read somewhere that sometimes, the food you eat affects your dreams. This is what I ate. I had pasta with mayonaise and mutton slices and ketchup and mustard and bagoong. Well, maybe that was it.
Still...why Fernando Poe? Was it even him? Maybe it was Fernando Poe, Sr. Well, I'm pretty sure that it was Fernando Poe (either Senior. or Junior). He introduced himself for crying out loud. And another thing that kinda bothered me was I don't know how my dream ended. Would have I said YES? NO? Would I have helped him change his clothes? I guess I'll never know.
Well, where ever he is, whoever he is... I hope he's groovy and serene and happy. And by the way Ronnie, if you're reading this somewhere, hehe, keep the scent. It suits you.
FERNANDO POE, JR. (1939-2004)
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