My children are in a stage where their brains have matured enough to file and sort the sensory input they get during waking moments. With this milestone comes the understanding of object permanence, separation anxiety and other unwarranted fears (monsters, barking dogs, strangers, etc).

Santi cries in his dreams and I think they are mostly caused by the re-enactment of the day’s events. He would whine, kick and gurgle laughter in the dark… he is very much like Una when she was this young.

Una is not your fearful kind of kid. She would go out of our room in the dead of the night to look for Geedee – with all the lights out. I even ask her stay in our room, all alone while I bathe or snack downstairs. She is most afraid of old people, really old people and I wonder why. I mean it was alright for me to think of old women with their gray, flowing hair, hollowed cheeks, missing teeth as Satan’s minions because my yayas told me so, but not with Una. No one is allowed to tell her scary stories or makeup some scary whatnots out of space and darkness just to make her stay put. That is not allowed at home. Maybe I passed it down to her – all my irrational fears and beliefs… it got wired into her system as well. You know how pregnant women are – I mean, I get superstitious whenever I am pregnant.

This morning, Una’s dreams took a turn to hilarity. She woke up with a beaming smile to tell us that she killed the momo in her dreams. We exclaimed ‘WOW! That’s so brave of you.’ She added that she killed the monster with her eyes. I nodded and I racked my brain for the teleserye that gave her the idea of slaying monsters with laser beam emitting from one’s eyes and there are numerous – Captain Barbell, Darna, Lois and Clark… and the list goes on. She answered my unspoken thought with ‘Majika.’

Jude assured her that if she gets scared by her dreams at night, she should wake her papa up so they can fight the monster together. Una answered ‘Yes, papa,’ and went to ramble about tangential thoughts.

I know I can’t claim that my bad parenting (letting kids watch TV while they are this young) has resulted to something good because I would never know the negative effects it has done on their psyche. Who would? And now am back to evaluating black and white and… should there be gray?

Or something reminiscent of it.

It’s not really the person that we fall in love with… it’s the emotional upheaval brought forth by having a certain someone occupy all four lobes of your brain that we get addicted to. That’s the case for me anyway. Whether it be a movie, an actor, a philosopher or a real human being that shares the atmosphere that I breathe in.

Am now my recent love is… drum roll please, is belly dancing. I am so obsessed with getting in shape right now and no, I don’t consider round as shape. I want the lean and muscular kind. I will start the class tomorrow and I am thinking and fantasizing of all the accessories that I am going to get once I achieve that toned midsection muscle.

I don’t know for how long I will be dancing to achieve the body that I am dreaming of but for sure I am going to love the adrenaline rush, the bootylicious grind of the sexy women in the class, the tinkle of the little bells and coins, the mad swinging of voluptuous hips that remind one of copulation. I am looking forward to being alive tomorrow. I swear I do.

The DOT has a lot of possibilities. It can replicate itself to make a line and the line can go up or down. You can force the dot to multiply in a connected but random manner to create a spiral… like the pubis or the pasta that Una finds fascinating mainly because of its shape.

Infinite possibilities is applicable to hopes, dreams and relationships but not to business.

While summer has just opened in some parts of the globe, it has ended here in the PH. Although it is normally either hot-and-humid or wet-and- humid in this country, the vestiges of long hot days and furious fun are gone… but life continues in its monotonous circle.

I am left wondering what happened to the youthful energy that clouds the whole city – the same one that convinced everyone that now is the time, the only time to enjoy – to travel, be with friends, take breaks with your family and loved ones, to make vows and break old ones, and to fall headlong in love… or was it just me who felt that way?

I feel that with the rain and cooler nights I feel more grounded. And I shouldn’t be surprised, mania has been documented to reach its peak when the sun lingers on earth’s surface, making the days longer. Ah, aren’t we frail humans a mere byproduct of our environment? In the same way that the sun causes the riotous burst of color in nature and in its absence, the dull white ennui of winter.

It was during the passionate turn of the sun with Earth when I felt that I can do more, need to do more. I was even convinced that my book will be written not by pen and paper but through the raw energy that emanates from my brain. I would lie in bed for hours each night thinking of plots and subplots and sizes of ballpoints and kinds of paper surfaces. In more than 3 months, I was only able to come up with a mediocre 2-page, 10+ paragraphs of introductory copy. I am back to base one, with no clear storyline to tell and only a melee of ideas swimming in my subconscious which I had a glimpse last night. I tried to grab each and every thought but they escape me like water fleeing from a sieve and I woke up this morning feeling a great sense of loss.

My object remains sublime. Will I reach you in time?

Nota Bene:
And the ardor that I felt for you is gone like the birds that migrate on cold seasons. I don’t know why and have stopped grappling for explanations. It is the sun, my dear. Blame it on the sun.