This Is How It Ends

Last night I dreamed about The End of the World.

In the dream my family and I went to a hole-in-a-wall restaurant somewhere in the ghetto part of the city. The restaurant had a karindirya vibe. The plastic tables and chairs were arranged unceremoniously in an open garage along a crummy alley, and the trays of food were displayed behind a glass case similar to the ones in fancier turo-turo places.

My mind was elsewhere when we got there. I was thinking about Something, and Something was stressing me so hard that I decided to light a cigarette that I fished out of my sweater pocket. I puffed a smoke in front of my parents and they didn’t seem to care. All was well.

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Mundane Monday

I didn’t do anything productive at work today. No urgent tasks, no nothing. I just spent the first half of the day teaching myself SQL queries but I never got my code to work. Whatever.

For lunch our team went to an Asian restaurant, the kind where the chefs cook the food right in front you. I had salmon and veggies. I also wanted to try their unagi but maybe some other time, hopefully this weekend when my parents come over to visit.

After lunch I started working on a mini research project. I asked a colleague for ideas on how to narrow down the topic, and she recommended that I focus on the math, M&V and stuff. “I have resources I could send you,” she said. She never sent shit.

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Creepy dreams

Weird things have been showing up on my dreams lately. Weird things that I remember pretty vividly even hours after I woke up. Things that, to be honest, I’d rather not remember. Sometimes I wonder whether those images, or scenes, really happened to me in real life. Maybe my mind just suppressed them to the deepest basement of my thoughts. Maybe that can explain some shit about my personality, or even my body. Ah shit, ‘tang ina. I hope I never end up going legit crazy in the scientific sense of the word.