Under My Pillows
I’ve been having weird dreams lately. They were funny so I’ve always been trying to remember them and write them down before they escape my memories. And since this is my blog, and I write everything in here, and I don’t have anything worth reading to put, and everything is lame right now, I will be sharing to you three of my weirdest and funniest and latest dreams.
“The Closest” | 23rd July 2011 ©With Sam Concepcion, a bunch of pretty girls I haven’t really met
It started with a usual receiving area scene. I was with some girls, reading magazines and waiting for something or someone or whatever. I had learned that one girl, the one with long hair, was crushing on Sam Concepcion (although I wasn’t sure if I had eavesdropped or I asked her myself). I was quite… ironically
relieved that there was someone in that room that shared the same “interest” as mine. But I wasn’t really certain why I was there. In that room. With those girls.
With strangers.Then Sam Concepcion entered the room slash the scene slash in my dreams. I was surprised with lots of things that time: 1) I was surprised that Sam Concepcion was there (imagine my luck); 2) I was surprised that I didn’t go all red and possibly faint when I saw him – I just acted normally, like I could have said: “Okay, he’s here,”
deadpanned; 3) his hair was hideous; and 4) everyone in that room apparently liked him, too. I didn’t know what he was doing there. Maybe he was that “something or someone or whatever” that we were waiting for. Maybe we were the lucky ones who had the chance to meet him backstage or something. He started saying something about his shows and stuff. And he ingeniously added voting for him on
Candy Cuties 2011
poll.
What a segue. I told him to always do that – remind people about
Candy Cuties so they wouldn’t forget.
What a suggestion.He agreed and sat in front of me and held my hand. HE FREAKIN’ HELD MY HAND! He said that he was quite afraid that he wouldn’t again be hailed as the Top Cutie this year (he didn’t win last year). I told him that it was okay, that it didn’t really matter because he had already proven himself as a performer and as a Top Cutie for a couple of years (four consecutive years, to be precise). I said it while stroking his hideously-cut bangs. I FREAKIN’ STROKED HIS HIDEOUSLY-CUT BANGS! He held my hand, and I stroked his hair – physical touch on both freakin’ parts!!!
Then the long-haired girl who liked Sam came. She was apparently awe-stricken when she met him. Maybe it was her first time. I couldn’t blame her. Sam gave her a handshake and maybe a hug too, and they had a little chat. I was quite anxious because I was secretly thinking – and not wishing – that maybe Sam kind of liked her and wouldn’t talk to me anymore – and it was hurtful. WTF, even in my dreams I was still such a selfish and an idiotic and a rabid fan. But,
tada, because it was my dream, after he talked to the girl, he came back and sat in front of me, and he held my hand again, and we were talking again, and I was just bursting with joy again, and my dream was phenomenal again,
and I was seriously in love with him again!This was the dream, the closest we ever got physically and emotionally (before it was all just about staring at him and feeling that I was invisible to his big brown eyes – and once, singing together, which was ridiculous), that had compelled me to go head over heels for Sam Concepcion all over again. I was actually in the process of trying to decrease my fan love for him since it wasn’t healthy, but I dreamed of him, and poof,
decrease what?
“Malabo” | I Don’t Remember WhenWith my
First College Crush, a couple of my high school friends, his friends, his girlfriend (or fiancé)
It was such a weird dream. It started with just my friends and me. We were summoned into this auditorium slash gym, and we were surprisingly wearing our high school uniforms. I found my FCC and a girl standing on a podium with their friends in the background – he was all decked out in a suit and the girl was all pretty in white. I suddenly realized that he and the girl was a couple. And they were getting married. THEY WERE GETTING FREAKIN’ MARRIED! What?! My First College Crush – oh my modest, determined, smart, first college crush – was getting married. WTF.
I unexpectedly found myself walking towards him and actually talking to him. The guts I had in my dreams were non-existent in reality. I asked him (these were the exact words),
“Why so early?” He said that it just happened, that they woke up one day wanting to get married, that he really loved this girl, blah, blah, but they had agreed to not have kids yet. Getting married at eighteen without a baby bump complication?
True love. But still, WHY SO FREAKIN’ EARLY?!
The scene switched. I didn’t know if the ceremony was already over or if what I’d seen was just the rehearsals. I wasn’t sure how the hell it happened, but FCC and I were miraculously exchanging phone calls! But it was so weird because the phone that I was using (or maybe he was, too) was so… impossible to exist or
even invented.
The phone looked like a usual phone – with the receiver, dial pad, etc. But it didn’t actually function like the normal ones. You still had to insert tokens – yes, tokens; not monetary coins – so you could make a call. Perk: it was unlimited. You could talk for as long as you want without the need to insert new tokens after a minute or two. Another perk: you could send an audio or a video. It was amazing but eerie. I remembered FCC sending me a video of himself singing “Happy Birthday” or the “Happy, Yippee, Yehey” song – I wasn’t sure which of the two. I didn’t know how he did it; it just popped in front of me like a creepy and funny hologram. And that’s the best description that I can give you about that bizarre phone.
Also, he was blurting out jokes that were really not that funny. He was really such a failure in jokes, even in reality (I’m sorry FCC, but that’s the truth!). But I was laughing – partly because I was shallow, and partly because I’d always try to find him funny. AND I WAS REALLY LAUGHING. I woke up because I was making these laughing sounds while on bed.
In reality. What the hell?
I wasn’t sure if he really got married in my dreams. And I wasn’t freakin’ sure if he will soon in real life.
Hay nako, kahit sa panaginip malabo ka pa rin. 
“Voldemort versus Glee” | The Next Day After The “Malabo” Dream ©With Lord Voldemort, the New Directions kids
It was such a scary and funny dream. It was in the dead of night, and the cold was bone-breaking. Imagine a very frightening movie with a lunatic and psychopath in it – and it was trying to slay you. Lord Voldemort was ridiculously creeping in my house, and I was in my room (although it didn’t really look like my room; the real one had hideous wall color). I was freakin’ scared on my pants because I was just so sure he was aching to kill me (and I was really hurt because I really liked him, evil or not evil). I didn’t know how to fight him off. I wasn’t even sure if I
could fight him off. I tried locking my doors, which was a very effective move –
what a way to save my life. I was really, really terrified because I knew it was a dreadfully lame defense, and there was the “Alohomora” charm. Or he could just kick it open or use any destructive spell (maybe a “Stupefy” or something) and kill me with “Avada Kedavra.”
What a way to die.
But, Merlin’s beard, a rescue came! No, it wasn’t Potter and his friends; it wasn’t the Order or the Ministry. Tada! It was the
New Directions kids! Yes, those singing underdogs in that musical show called
Glee. But WTF, they had wands. I didn’t know how they got inside my room. Maybe they flew through the windows or apparated. They chanted some spells on the door (maybe several protective enchantments), and thank God they weren’t singing when they did. Mostly it was Tina, the Asian. She said that if Lord Voldemort tried to do counter spells on the door and not be successful after seventeen tries, he’d die. Lord Voldemort tried and failed the seventeenth time, so he was gone. I wasn’t sure what was with seventeen, but sure it was hell of a help. And well,
that was easy.
I had Lord Voldemort in my dreams before, and he was always trying to kill me. Why, Tom Riddle, why? I loved you, but I guess my love was unrequited.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Under My Pillows
I’ve been having weird dreams lately. They were funny so I’ve always been trying to remember them and write them down before they escape my memories. And since this is my blog, and I write everything in here, and I don’t have anything worth reading to put, and everything is lame right now, I will be sharing to you three of my weirdest and funniest and latest dreams.
“The Closest” | 23rd July 2011 ©With Sam Concepcion, a bunch of pretty girls I haven’t really met
It started with a usual receiving area scene. I was with some girls, reading magazines and waiting for something or someone or whatever. I had learned that one girl, the one with long hair, was crushing on Sam Concepcion (although I wasn’t sure if I had eavesdropped or I asked her myself). I was quite… ironically
relieved that there was someone in that room that shared the same “interest” as mine. But I wasn’t really certain why I was there. In that room. With those girls.
With strangers.Then Sam Concepcion entered the room slash the scene slash in my dreams. I was surprised with lots of things that time: 1) I was surprised that Sam Concepcion was there (imagine my luck); 2) I was surprised that I didn’t go all red and possibly faint when I saw him – I just acted normally, like I could have said: “Okay, he’s here,”
deadpanned; 3) his hair was hideous; and 4) everyone in that room apparently liked him, too. I didn’t know what he was doing there. Maybe he was that “something or someone or whatever” that we were waiting for. Maybe we were the lucky ones who had the chance to meet him backstage or something. He started saying something about his shows and stuff. And he ingeniously added voting for him on
Candy Cuties 2011
poll.
What a segue. I told him to always do that – remind people about
Candy Cuties so they wouldn’t forget.
What a suggestion.He agreed and sat in front of me and held my hand. HE FREAKIN’ HELD MY HAND! He said that he was quite afraid that he wouldn’t again be hailed as the Top Cutie this year (he didn’t win last year). I told him that it was okay, that it didn’t really matter because he had already proven himself as a performer and as a Top Cutie for a couple of years (four consecutive years, to be precise). I said it while stroking his hideously-cut bangs. I FREAKIN’ STROKED HIS HIDEOUSLY-CUT BANGS! He held my hand, and I stroked his hair – physical touch on both freakin’ parts!!!
Then the long-haired girl who liked Sam came. She was apparently awe-stricken when she met him. Maybe it was her first time. I couldn’t blame her. Sam gave her a handshake and maybe a hug too, and they had a little chat. I was quite anxious because I was secretly thinking – and not wishing – that maybe Sam kind of liked her and wouldn’t talk to me anymore – and it was hurtful. WTF, even in my dreams I was still such a selfish and an idiotic and a rabid fan. But,
tada, because it was my dream, after he talked to the girl, he came back and sat in front of me, and he held my hand again, and we were talking again, and I was just bursting with joy again, and my dream was phenomenal again,
and I was seriously in love with him again!This was the dream, the closest we ever got physically and emotionally (before it was all just about staring at him and feeling that I was invisible to his big brown eyes – and once, singing together, which was ridiculous), that had compelled me to go head over heels for Sam Concepcion all over again. I was actually in the process of trying to decrease my fan love for him since it wasn’t healthy, but I dreamed of him, and poof,
decrease what?
“Malabo” | I Don’t Remember WhenWith my
First College Crush, a couple of my high school friends, his friends, his girlfriend (or fiancé)
It was such a weird dream. It started with just my friends and me. We were summoned into this auditorium slash gym, and we were surprisingly wearing our high school uniforms. I found my FCC and a girl standing on a podium with their friends in the background – he was all decked out in a suit and the girl was all pretty in white. I suddenly realized that he and the girl was a couple. And they were getting married. THEY WERE GETTING FREAKIN’ MARRIED! What?! My First College Crush – oh my modest, determined, smart, first college crush – was getting married. WTF.
I unexpectedly found myself walking towards him and actually talking to him. The guts I had in my dreams were non-existent in reality. I asked him (these were the exact words),
“Why so early?” He said that it just happened, that they woke up one day wanting to get married, that he really loved this girl, blah, blah, but they had agreed to not have kids yet. Getting married at eighteen without a baby bump complication?
True love. But still, WHY SO FREAKIN’ EARLY?!
The scene switched. I didn’t know if the ceremony was already over or if what I’d seen was just the rehearsals. I wasn’t sure how the hell it happened, but FCC and I were miraculously exchanging phone calls! But it was so weird because the phone that I was using (or maybe he was, too) was so… impossible to exist or
even invented.
The phone looked like a usual phone – with the receiver, dial pad, etc. But it didn’t actually function like the normal ones. You still had to insert tokens – yes, tokens; not monetary coins – so you could make a call. Perk: it was unlimited. You could talk for as long as you want without the need to insert new tokens after a minute or two. Another perk: you could send an audio or a video. It was amazing but eerie. I remembered FCC sending me a video of himself singing “Happy Birthday” or the “Happy, Yippee, Yehey” song – I wasn’t sure which of the two. I didn’t know how he did it; it just popped in front of me like a creepy and funny hologram. And that’s the best description that I can give you about that bizarre phone.
Also, he was blurting out jokes that were really not that funny. He was really such a failure in jokes, even in reality (I’m sorry FCC, but that’s the truth!). But I was laughing – partly because I was shallow, and partly because I’d always try to find him funny. AND I WAS REALLY LAUGHING. I woke up because I was making these laughing sounds while on bed.
In reality. What the hell?
I wasn’t sure if he really got married in my dreams. And I wasn’t freakin’ sure if he will soon in real life.
Hay nako, kahit sa panaginip malabo ka pa rin. “Voldemort versus Glee” | The Next Day After The “Malabo” Dream ©With Lord Voldemort, the New Directions kids
It was such a scary and funny dream. It was in the dead of night, and the cold was bone-breaking. Imagine a very frightening movie with a lunatic and psychopath in it – and it was trying to slay you. Lord Voldemort was ridiculously creeping in my house, and I was in my room (although it didn’t really look like my room; the real one had hideous wall color). I was freakin’ scared on my pants because I was just so sure he was aching to kill me (and I was really hurt because I really liked him, evil or not evil). I didn’t know how to fight him off. I wasn’t even sure if I
could fight him off. I tried locking my doors, which was a very effective move –
what a way to save my life. I was really, really terrified because I knew it was a dreadfully lame defense, and there was the “Alohomora” charm. Or he could just kick it open or use any destructive spell (maybe a “Stupefy” or something) and kill me with “Avada Kedavra.”
What a way to die.
But, Merlin’s beard, a rescue came! No, it wasn’t Potter and his friends; it wasn’t the Order or the Ministry. Tada! It was the
New Directions kids! Yes, those singing underdogs in that musical show called
Glee. But WTF, they had wands. I didn’t know how they got inside my room. Maybe they flew through the windows or apparated. They chanted some spells on the door (maybe several protective enchantments), and thank God they weren’t singing when they did. Mostly it was Tina, the Asian. She said that if Lord Voldemort tried to do counter spells on the door and not be successful after seventeen tries, he’d die. Lord Voldemort tried and failed the seventeenth time, so he was gone. I wasn’t sure what was with seventeen, but sure it was hell of a help. And well,
that was easy.
I had Lord Voldemort in my dreams before, and he was always trying to kill me. Why, Tom Riddle, why? I loved you, but I guess my love was unrequited.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Profile
Already several months had passed, and I am missing
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry more and more each fleeting day. There are just some things in life that we can never forget – especially that something that had given us knowledge, skills, strong relationships and a second home. I am glad that everything in the magical world is now at peace, since Voldemort (yes, I can now say his name; no need to be afraid) had died. I had secretly admired Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort’s birth name) though, because of his intelligence, passion and love for magic. Wasn’t he very clever to think of and conjure his seven
Horcruxes to preserve his life, or form a clan of
Death Eaters who were very loyal to him and would give up their lives just for him to succeed? Not everybody can acquire that much loyalty from people these days. I do not, however, admire him for the way he had carried out all of his plans. He had a good agenda, his means just weren’t morally right. But he still is one of the darkest wizards of all time… and let’s leave it that way.
Oh, for all those who are baffled of what I’m saying here and who the heck I am, my name is
Christine Faye Ordas, and I am an alumnus of Hogwarts. I came from the bronze-and-blue-clad house of the smart ass witch Rowena Ravenclaw and her dictum
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.” And yes, I know the wonderful Luna Lovegood (she’s such a darling) and Harry Potter’s first crush Cho Chang. I had just left Hogwarts last May. Right now I am trying to pursue a career in magical researches, literature and writing. It’s my dream to inscribe intellectual books, publish and sell them in
Flourish and Blotts for the future Hogwarts students’ use. I am also planning to credibly write for the
Daily Prophet, the magical world’s primary news bulletin. And of course, I will be very much honored to contribute to Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood’s
Quibbler (hence, my interest in magical researches). I have always found the Lovegoods a fascinating family, and I bet working with and for them will be very exciting. Or maybe, in Merlin’s beard’s time, I can write legends and bedtime stories like the famous – and wickedly brilliant – Beedle the Bard.
And that’s how my life goes these days. I am utterly missing my old school, my friends, the Great Hall, the bronze eagle knocker just outside the Ravenclaw common room, Professor Flitwick (the head of our house), Hogsmeade, the Quidditch matches (although I didn’t actually play for the house), the moving portraits, the castle ghosts, the pumpkins on Halloween, the giant pine trees on Christmas, Rubeus Hagrid’s (Hogwarts’ gamekeeper) tea and treacle fudge – even the crabby Argus Filch (Hogwarts’ caretaker) I miss. Maybe I can visit the school grounds sometimes and see how the magical world’s been doing since Voldemort died (I’ve been spending my months in the muggle world, you see). I’ve heard everybody’s been moving on and starting all over again; the ministry is back on work under Kingsley Shacklebolt; and Harry Potter’s scar haven’t been disturbing him since.
All is well, indeed.
And because of that, we should celebrate and drink firewhisky! Oh, I still don’t drink firewhisky; I can take butterbeer or tea or pumpkin juice – just not firewhisky, please.
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