The Weed-Traffic-Earthquake Story

I was with my dad and elder bro GP walking towards the village gate. Now right off the bat, I should’ve realized that this was a dream because this never happens. If it was true and we were approaching the village’s gate goin’ out, we should be in a vehicle or somethin’. But walking? It hasn’t happened yet as far as I can remember, ever!

The strange thing was that they were about to get into this vacant lot and smoke some weed. My dad will smoke weed?!? There’s not a snowflake’s chance in hell that he’s gonna smoke weed, let alone a cigarette! So that was another “dreamy” detail that I failed to notice! I’m really slow at this thing. Daym!

Well I didn’t join their pot session. I guess I also kinda’ didn’t want my dad to know that I was still smokin’ (he knows). But what’s the point, right? He smokes weed too! So I guess that makes us even. But the shame factor still kicked in. So I just signaled my bro to leave a li’l weed for me to smoke at a later time. In short, I didn’t join them.

Apparently, something happened. Because there suddenly was a traffic jam goin’ all the way to the village gate. I was curious, so I checked it out. But there was already someone who got there before me to quench his curious little mind. Ronnie Molina (A.K.A. “O-neh”). I guess it’s in the genes. That’s because his mom is the leading chismosa(gossip monger) in the street. Their house is also strategically located on the street corner at the end of our street (Cattleya St) so it’s like a crossroads right there.

Now I didn’t wanna’ walk goin’ out of the village because my dad will see me. As I’ve said, I didn’t wanna’ jam weed with the fucker.I just wanna’ be on my own. I don’t want no quality time. So I sneaked into this taxi, and I told the driver that I was hiding from someone. So I was lying face down, looking directly at the driver’s shoes while. I didn’t want to be facing the window on my side (the shotgun side) because I didn’t want my dad to see my face while hiding if in case he reared his head looking in for a sneak peak.

Now the “dad avoidance” was a success. But someone else spotted me when we reached the gate. It was Carlo, my childhood friend. I don’t know why he knew that someone was hiding there. But he seemed to be eager and happy to find me. He was wanting to thank me because I allegedly gave him a green jacket that was used by this chick on the pic of the MMAMania.com thread for St. Patrick’s Day. He was giving the jacket to his cousin before he leaves for the USA. Carlo is a seaman or something. And seamen here in the Philippines, in general, never go to the USA. It’s either Europe, Africa, Asia even. But not America. I don’t know why. I guess it’s too far away.

Now while we were talking, we passed by our house. But it was an awful sight because it lay in ruins while my mom was sitting outside, visibly stressed. She was like a WWII mom in Europe after the Nazis have bombed their town. The house looked like an earthquake with an intensity 8 on the Richter Scale just shook it up. The weird thing (lots of weird things in dreams, as always) was that the houses beside it, as well as all the other houses on the street were all intact while our house was reduced to rubble! Hopefully this shit doesn’t happen in real life. Woe is me if that ever happens!