I had a dream... and it’s not a Martin Luther King-type of dream which one discusses about when overwhelmed with idealism. The dream I’m talking about here is the dream Sigmund Freud would try to examine. Yes, dream, as in the experience of sensations which happens when you are asleep. It happened last June 24, right before I woke up. Like most of our dreams, it bordered on bizarreness, and I was just lucky to recall it (I forget most of what I dream the moment I open my eyes). In my dream, we were in a war-torn town that resembles the city of Stalingrad in Russia during World War II. I couldn’t recall if we were soldiers or rebels in the dream, but the only thing I am sure of is that we were fighting one man whose body appeared to be made of Kevlar vest, impenetrable and hardened. Here’s the funny thing: the man we were fighting against was Eddie Garcia!!

The city was something like this...

Of all the six billion people in the world! When I got up, I was thinking: what in the nutty world was Eddie Garcia doing in my nutty dream? I’m quite sure I haven’t been watching Asian Treasures lately. Although I think my dream is a bit parallel to the Asian Treasures, because I did see a scene in the show where Robin Padilla and the rest of the gang were battling it out with Eddie Garcia’s demonic minions. And when they were up against Eddie Garcia, they were nearly defeated. In my dream, we riddled Garcia with bullets from our Steyr-Aug rifle. But he just seemed to take them all, without dodging any of them. He was coming towards us and we were retreating. And then the scene suddenly shifted to a part where I was asking this fellow combatant how to use a hand grenade. Out of the blue, the scene shifted again and then I was on my own, facing Eddie Garcia. I shot him like hell with my rifle and, like a warfreak, threw the hand grenade right at him. Then there was an explosion. I thought he was pulverized but out of the smoke he appeared unscathed. I threw one grenade after another. And he was just coming towards me, unhurt, laughing his ass off. The weird thing was that he was unarmed and was not striking back or anything. He just laughed and laughed his ass off. And then I was roused by the alarm clock. It was 5:30 AM.

Did this dream mean anything? Or was it just a bunch of random thoughts that blew up inside my nutty brain? I have had dreams since I was a kid, and they’re all weird, morbid, sometimes blissful, sometimes indecent (hehe). Can they be interpreted? What do you think was really at the back of my mind?


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