the best part was the sun shining through the window.

she sprawled out on my bed, the one i had when i was little. it was that child's bed with a second bed underneath it. not quite a bunkbed. i don't know what it's called. they probably don't make them anymore. school had just started, and it was obvious i had missed quite a chunk of it, but that didn't seem to bother me. "so, how was it? did you have fun?" "yeah, it was great," i said. i was standing, or sitting in a chair next to my closet. outside, the sun was shining. it shone through those dusty yellow venetian blinds, the ones my mom has wanted to replace since forever.

"everyone looks so different now," she explained. "alex is really, really cute. and ben got so hot." i must have shook my head. i made it clear i didn't give a shit about things like that. this was supposed to be about me. and maybe a little bit about her. "you look good, too," she said. it was an aww, shucks kind of moment. i knew she was just trying to be nice, and that she didn't really mean it. still, it was nice to receive a compliment. they are few and far between coming from anyone these days.

"i heard your brother really likes it over there," i said. "yeah," she said, "he loves it." "what does he do?" i had meant professionally, but her answer indicated otherwise. "he drinks and parties and buys whatever the hell he wants." living on the first level. is that what it's called? and who said it? aristotle? descartes? did it matter? "did you go to moa?" she asked. "yeah, mall of asia? yeah, i went there." "i don't think it's called mall of asia," she said. "i'm pretty sure it is. there's a razon's there. they have the best halo-halo ever. let's go get some," i said.

we walked into the next room, but it was the jam room at the rosemont house. i found it interesting that the halo-halo, even though it was just ice cream - vanilla and ube - was in the jam room. my dad was already scooping some up. "you guys read my mind," he said. he took a big scoop from the vanilla.

this isn't making any sense, i said to myself then. and now.

i didn't really like the film science of sleep when i first saw it. expectations were too high, probably. but now i'm really starting to see how dreams become more vivid and absurd the more dull one's reality gets. i see myself at the copy machine, struggling to remedy a paper jam. i see myself clicking the reply button to email after email after email. i see myself grateful for just having a job after reading about a man who kills his wife, his five children, and then himself all because he lost his.

it doesn't make any sense, i thought after reading that. and now.

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