I don’t usually remember my dreams. Way back when I was a kid I used to remember them vividly, but now I don’t. This is why I find today strange. For some reason I can remember what was last night’s.

The first dream was in a civil war or something. They tapped the ROTC and I was assigned to a team situated to a makeshift bunker under the Ortigas flyover. There were no dead bodies all over. It was a deserted city, something like the scene from Saving Private Ryan.

I was just introduced to my commanding officer and he was briefing me of the situation. Then all of a sudden, men riding a beat up car with the top gone drove up to the bunker and machined gunned us. I woke up from the shaking I felt from being machined gunned and bullets going through my body.

The second one was a company planning session in a location which looked similar to Tagaytay’s picnic grove. I was waiting to be called so I was strolling in the grounds. From a distance, I even saw Fiesta doing a one-on-one FGD of some sort. The scene was something like it’s from one of the tables at Antipolo’s Cloud 9 with a picturesque view of the city as the background.

I strolled along and I followed a path. It lead me to an officemate, who was on her cellphone talking to someone.

Then boss’ assistant appeared from a bend and told us that the the boss was already looking for us. So we ran back to the club house.

What was strange was that I lead them to a shortcut that lead to a steep uphill. It was so steep that we had to climb on our fours. We figured it was too much when we saw that there was a mountain goat on top. My officemate was scared of the goat so we went down the silly hill and raced each other to the club house. She got there first.

So that’s it. If you’re into translating dreams, be a dear and tell me what you think.

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