An excerpt from Don DeLillo's The Body Artist. The character is eating figs for breakfast, together with his wife. The process of eating figs, which is totally unknown to me, is written here, forming a picture:
He bit off the stem and tossed it toward the sink. Then he split the fig open with his thumbnails and took the spoon out of her hand and licked it off and used it to scoop a measure of claret flesh out of the gaping fig skin. He dropped this stuff on his toast--the flesh, the mash, the pulp--and then spread it with the bottom of the spoon, blood-buttery swirls that popped with seedlife.


George Tooker's Subway

Faraway places

I don't know why but dreams are worth writing down especially if they're charming enough to remember. This is arranged chronologically, and is quoted from a Pages file on my laptop. Names are omitted.

1. I dreamt I had shrooms. I installed an Internet connection in a very unfamiliar place, no resemblance to any apartment whatsoever. It was huge, there was a queue for food, it was probably a buffet. There were lots of [name of org] members I didn’t even know. It was all hazy. The shrooms triggered a lot of morphing stuff in my head. Like turtles with wings or something. All animals, changing. I remember [a High School classmate] playing Nintendo, lying on his chest, on a bed.

2. I dreamt of fixing a family, one including a she-male and another was Ate Starlett [an in-group humor]. Funny. I have to fix their family.

3. The dream I had two days ago was: I was in London. It was beautiful, and raining. It had cobblestone streets and a Chinese haute couture shop. They were racist, I thought, and they were very much addicted to this certain TV show that televisions were affixed to their streetlights.

4. A while ago I dreamt of being a communist, and then forgot everything else. They were poignant and vivid and Cuban in many ways. They felt very Caribbean.

5. I dreamt that I was in Germany, and this felt like my European (dream) trip months ago (when I went to London and Paris respectively, if I’m not mistaken). This time I befriended a foreigner. I told this old hag that it was one of my achievements to meet someone from a different nationality. Then she spoke in Tagalog.

6. I dreamt that I have this tail and it was stitched together with my testicles and my stomach. They were in a knot, all three of them.

7. I had a bangungot about [Name of three people that are very much unrelated: two are from High School, the other a professor in Grammar]. The four of us were finding something in this warehouse of some sort. An old house, probably. In any case there was a manhole and I told them I’ll be waiting for them. It’s the kind of a metal ladder with noisy rungs from Resident Evil. Anyway, I was waiting for them when I asked one of them, Albert, from above, “how are things going?” I can see their heads. They were scanning the place. Albert said, “well, it seems like the place is bigger than we’ve ever thought.” Then there were two handkerchiefs floating and I had this broom and I don’t know if I can defend myself against seemingly harmless things. There are words in the handkerchief, and it’s “emo” and “mother” or “Maria”. Then I shuddered from sleep.

8. I dreamt of eating a baby’s organs just because Jigsaw ordered me to. The heart was the last one I ate, and the membrane glimmered. It looked like plastic to me, and chewy like cartilage. Then I was in this condominium: at the first floor, an auditorium with a fraternity; at the fourth, hospital staff speaking in French.

9. I dreamt of being in a high place in a city after having walked a dozen footbridges which led me to this high place with a slide and at its end were garbage and slums. For the first time I recognized the time of the day in the dream, and it was night.

10. I dreamt of an earthquake happening, and two days ago, of eating in a restaurant called Amish, right in the heart of France.

11. I dreamt of chasing polar bears in the subdivision. There were five of them, each with different hues. I get to chase them from a pond, from the oval park outside the duplex. I even get to squeeze them and sleep with them on the bed.


I have been collecting receipts ever since I graduated from High School. Most of them are bus tickets, letters from elementary years, purchases blurred by time, stickers, somebody else's assignments on a sheet of yellow paper, somebody else's letter to somebody else (both are common friends; how it ended up in my collection is a wonder), t-shirt tags, scrawled notes on the back of receipts, and everything which turns insignificant through time.

Just this morning I've decided to throw my set of used batteries (around fifty). It has stayed on my room for two years and it's starting to leak. I tried to make use of them by putting yarns on their ends so they would end up like chimes at the back of my bedroom door, but they didn't work.


It was one of those days when dogs were barking at each other. I was buying a pineapple and the talk which comes with waiting: the grandmother's predicament about her two
with the same father, different mothers while trimming
the crown,
one fondly called me kuya, the other decoding things
in a pink calculator, and the wind breezes through the stall, midday, and the kids
were just making sense of the simplicities an object has, while
the pineapple is cored, and the grandmother wonders why
its eyes cannot be carved out in perfect
diagonal slits, "not like the other ones"

so each pineapple was different, I'm fine with that
but I left with discomfort, and she with her expectations.

I dreamt of Paris

I was in this really shabby Parisian apartment and there were three doctors clad in white coats. They went upstairs. I also went upstairs. There was a man on a stretcher, a man I didn't know, being operated on. He was our neighbor, apparently, two doors away from where I live in. It wasn't much of a sight, what with three doctors blocking the view.

Downstairs, a boy was being comforted by a man. Just to be genial, I asked him that it's going to be alright.

It isn't.

I said, well, why don't we just grab a beer outside?

He doesn't drink beer. He's about ten, and lanky.

After some time I convinced him, I don't know how we ended up that way, but the next scene was the two of us outside, finding the nearest cafe / pub.

I woke up, as with any other dreams, wanting to drink beer with that unknown buddy of mine somewhere.

It so happened that this has been my seventh (among many others, all forgotten) dream about Paris. This post is as much as I could recall from my dream this morning, which I hadn't written pronto.


Just this morning, after finishing a packet of warm oatmeal, I locked the door and made the necessary checks before leaving: wallet on the right pocket, cellphone on the left, the weight of a bracelet on the right wrist, etc. I came across a neighbor who happened to be standing by the gate, thinking. She looked like she's been waiting for a meteor the night before. When I asked her, she said she was thinking of whether she'll be wearing a jacket or not. It wasn't a beautiful day. It was grim, and by the looks of it, the drizzle might be rain at lunchtime.

At the tricycle, when she had finally decided not to take her jacket, we had a conversation about the weather, how it has been for the past few weeks, how difficult it was to attend morning classes. We were madly in love with the idea of having a sunny day, because at least we wouldn't spend so much time thinking on wearing jackets.

It rained the entire day today. Looking back I imagine a lot of people near their windowsills, or blocking the driveways of their garage, thinking of what to wear, or will it rain this afternoon? It is a fine picture to paint, I think, just a bunch of people thinking of the weather and what's next.