Spongebob sent me a letter in my dream on a Friday

Why did I dream of someone whom I haven’t been thinking of recently and whom I suppose I can do without, then abruptly see myself in a scenario much like that of Zhao Wei who was crying for the death of her sister, Shu Qi, in an Asian movie (So Close)? Is this to remind me of a wound that should be healed? Perhaps, this is what nonbelievers call “coincidence” or “fate”; believers call it the “will of God”—

…to dream of a letter sent by someone whom I would like to conceal in the name “Spongebob.”

…AND THE LETTER SAID, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, everything I have said, everything I have shown to you, and everything we’ve shared were true. To the ‘next me’…” Then I paused and rejected to read the subsequent lines. The first lines on the front page, as I recall, were just lyrics of songs. The lines at the back page of the letter, however, were different.

When I’ve read the last three words, everything turned in slow-mo. That bus station where I was hailing for a certain bus, which I presume would traverse me either to Makati or Pampanga, was composed of a cemented way and there were divisions securing people from vehicles—those divisions were steel railings.


The railings, in my dream, suddenly appeared like labyrinths. My vision turned cloudy; my eyes became watery. I stooped from a far-flung aloofness without minding the people around me, even those I have collided with. But then I caught everybody’s attention and they looked at me. In their eyes, I knew there was sympathy. My mind has gone astray again, and then I clenched to the rails for support and cried on that street like a grieving child.

Then, a humongous bus passed by. The sound of its engine was roaring like sets of blades clashing, the ones that are sharp enough to kill. The passing bus has triggered the blow of the wind, which abducted the letter from my hand and heaved it toward the highway. I tried to get it by wishing that I could rush the red signal of the traffic lights for vehicles to stop as soon as possible, so I could save the letter since it was all I have left; something that I could treasure.

This scenario happened after I went to the wash room. I was looking for Charles, my roommate who was with me beforehand. Then, at the exit of the wash room, I saw Greg Villaluz, a high school classmate, instead.

Even though he doesn’t know Charles, I oddly asked him, “Nasaan si Charles?” (Where is Charles?) He answered, “Umalis na. Yung bag mo na kay Spongebob.” (He has left. Your bag is with Spongebob.) Then the psychodrama went on. He gave me the letter, which he said was from Spongebob. It contained the message with those last three words that meant a farewell and, though of good intentions, would hurt me most.

I thought this only happens in melancholic Asian movies; yet, it still happened in a Friday dream that woke me up at 5 a.m.: upset.