The Melancholy of Ma'am Kristine: Mystery Cake

Today is Amb. Tirona's birthday. The PLP full-time faculty held a program so full-timers' classes were cancelled. Part-timers were supposed to hold classes as usual, but my students didn't come to class, so I joined the other part-timers whose students were MIA. We were invited to eat so we lined up for the buffet. But, since the affair was for full-timers, there weren't any seats for us, so we headed back to the faculty room. When we came back down to return the plates to the caterers, Ma'am Auit decided to watch the slide show made for Amba so Sir Ryan and I watched with her.

Moment 1: Open mouth, insert foot

Me (about the flattering acrosstic poem flashed on the screen): Hala ka. Totoo ba yan?
Sir Ryan: Para kay Amba. Patapos na yan.
Me (moves hands, as if forming a ball): Bola.
Lady beside us: Ang hirap humanap ng pictures. Akala ko hindi ko magagawa.

The lady beside us turned out to be Amba's daughter. Great. Open mouth, insert foot.

Moment 2: Mystery Cake

As we stood there, three female HM students approached me with a cake.

Girl 1: Ma'am, pinabibigay po ni Chef Luces(?).
Girl 2 (elbowing girl 1): Ssst.
Girl 1: Sabi niya, sabihin galing kay Chef Luces(?) eh.
Me: Sakin to?
Girl 3: Opo.
Me: Ano to? Bibigay ko kay Amba?
Girl 1: Hindi, ma'am! Sayo yan.
Me: Ah... okay. Just checking. Thank you.

I was too confused. Didn't really know how to react. I think I should be flattered, but really.... o_o

It's good cake, though. ;-D

Holidays for 2009

PGMA has listed the official holidays of 2009 in proclamation 1699.

6 April - Araw ng Kagitingan instead of April 9
9 April - Maundy Thursday
10 Apr - Good Friday
1 May - Labor Day
12 June - Independence Day
21 August - Ninoy Aquino Day
31 August - National Heroes’ Day
21 September - Eid’l Fitr (exact date my change)
1 November - All Saints’ Day
2 November - All Soul’s Day
30 November - Bonifacio Day
24 December - Christmas Eve
25 December - Christmas Day
30 December - Rizal Day
31 December - New Year’s Eve

Mark your calendars, then. Hope you guys find this information useful. Nothin about the commemoration of the first EDSA revolution (24/25 February), but that doesn't mean she can't declare it as a holiday at the last minute. Chances are she will, anyway.

Relieved: Comments on the Feast of the Black Nazarene

It has always been difficult for me, someone who a priest has called an "inquiring faithful", to understand many of the rituals and traditions of Philippine Catholicism. Don't get me wrong, whenever I recite the Apostles' Creed, I mean it. It's just that, sometimes, the human aspect of the Catholic Church is not easy to "believe in". Because I often find the actions of many "devout Catholics" to be utterly pointless and adverse to the Christian faith, it's not easy for me to defend the faith when questioned. Many people, myself included, are not good representatives of the Catholic Church.

This Sunday, I felt vindicated when a priest echoed my thoughts in his sermon. Fr. Nolan criticized the devotees of the Black Nazarene in this way. "Mag-tsinelas nga kayo. Baka matusok yang mga paa ninyo. Tingin niyo ba gusto ng Nazareno na magkasugat-sugat yang mga paa ninyo?" Fr. Nolan further told us that when you ask most devotees why they do what they do on the feast day of the Nazareno, they reply "Para matupad ang mga kahilingan namin." I think the priest's internal retort "Ano to, gamitan?" was most appropriate.

It is traditions, no, mentalities like this that make non-Catholic Christians shake their heads at us, marking us as unbelievers who have a very superficial relationship with God.

We tend to treat God like a vending machine. Insert good deed. Select wish. Take wish from compartment below. And when we don't get what we want we become resentful. We smack the machine. We curse at it. We swear never to use it again. This way of thinking assumes that when we do the things good Christians should do, God owes us something. But, how can that be when all the things we have and do are gifts from God? See the disconnect?

The feast of the Black Nazarene is a beautiful example of how Catholicism is still very much alive in the Philippines and how many Catholics are not merely nominal, but are devout. At the same time, to me, it is also a poignant picture of misleading tradition and skewed reasoning.

Nerdness and Coffee and Combining the Two

The members of the consultancy firm my mom is part of, Brain Trust Inc., was having a roundtable discussion when the topic of coffee was brought up. One of my mom's epicurian friends said that officials of Cafe Puro told him the secret of preparing the best cup of instant coffee.

Step 1. Heat the water to boiling.
Step 2. Put two teaspoons of coffee in a mug.
Step 3. Pour a small amount of water INTO the coffee and not the other way around. Add sugar (if you wish) and mix into a slurry.
Step 4. Add the rest of the hot water.
Step 5. Add milk or creamer.
Step 6. Add other flavorings (cinnamon, choco powder, etc.)

By this time I was already aware of this process. I even wrote a vignette describing the preparation of the "ideal cup". What struck me was the question "Why does it taste better if you put the water into the coffee?"

On the trip back, my mind was mulling over possible theories and here is the most sensible one:

From what I know, instant coffee does not dissolve, per se. Parts of the coffee are "leached", meaning a chemical reaction occurs between the coffee grains and the water. So, instant coffee is actually the product of the leaching process PLUS the inert parts of the coffee that were dissolved by the hot water. If I understand this correctly, these dissolved parts are not desirable. If we put the coffee into the water, the rate of dissolution competes with the leaching process. The full flavor of the coffee is therefore not realized. On the other hand, if there is a lot of coffee and a little water, I imagine that, somehow, dissolution is minimized while leaching is maximized, thus making a better cup of coffee.

So there. x_x Yes. I'm thinking too much about this. Going back to PIC model and shape factors now...

TRIVIA: The volatile parts of your coffee are continuously lost to the atmosphere. Coffee beans lose these flavorful oils at a lower rate simply because coffee beans have a lower surface area than coffee ground of the same mass. Therefore, when buying coffee, it is good to check the date when the coffee beans were packed. Also, it is not advised to have your coffee beans ground if you don't plan on drinking it within the day.

It kinda started like this...

"Baka stress lang yan. Magpahinga ka."

The doctor said this as she read my EKG which, apparently, was normal. As I rolled down my green tennis dress, I couldn't help but think that what she said made sense. I had every right to be stressed out. I had little sleep the night prior as I was cramming for my Komunikasyon term paper and I had a workout that was far more rigorous than what my normally lethargic body was used to. But, I knew that those were not the reasons for the twinge in my chest that sent me staggering to the infirmary. There were two things that were weighing even more heavily than my "Babae lang ba ang nagme-make up?" term paper: the discovery that my burgeoning friendship with Chenn was ruined and a confession that I didn't know how to react to.

As I stood from the examination table, the doctor addressed me a second time. "Huwag ka muna maglalalakad magisa. Bumalik ka kapag sumakit ulit."

I nodded and thanked her and wondered who I would call to accompany me.

Ivan sounded worried over the phone. He and Rene arrived even before I finished returning my record to that surly old lady at the Records Section and paying for my EKG. When I saw them, they looked even more worried than Ivan had sounded and I commented that they looked like expectant fathers. Rene was the one who first spoke to me, asking how I was. I explained what happened and apologized for calling them over from the Math Building. Ivan hung around, not saying anything. When we got out of the Infirmary, Ivan hailed a cab to take us to the Math Building for Math 53. Ivan took the front seat, leaving the back seat to Rene and me.

"Tumakbo si Ivan."

"Huh?" I blinked, confused by the supposedly stunning revelation of Rene's. He was smiling, amused.

"Hindi tumatakbo si Ivan. Tumakbo siya para sayo."

I think I blushed a bit. I can't really tell. It was at that moment that I realized that I really shouldn't be stressing out. Things would fall into place, eventually.

Later that afternoon, after a long lunch with Teds, at around 4PM, right after Ivan's Physics 101.1 class. I was feeling much better. I had made a decision to deal with one of the two things that were bothering me.

I approached Ivan and pulled him aside. "About last night's message," I began as I stared at his hands picking on the peeling white paint of the ledge separating Pav 4 from the rest of AS...

...and the rest is history, I suppose. Seven years after that extended moment is today (or, rather, yesterday, considering the time). I'm not as eloquent as Ivan when it comes expressing himself. I'm not concise and witty like he is. But I like telling this story because the more I tell it, the more I'm assured that I will never forget why I am in this position and why I am not regretting it.

Thanks for seven years, Ivan.

-

I also updated Cliched and Corny, but not with my own works. Do check it out.

PdLR's Thought for the Day

"Never forget: There is nothing that human hands are capable of that is below you; and there is nothing that the human mind can conceive that is beyond you."

I put this at the end of my students' midterm exam. =p

The Melancholy of Ma'am Kristine: PLP Ghost Stories

Because of my URA appointment, I requested that my teaching schedule be changed. This is how my 6PM to 9PM teaching schedule came to be. And because I feel sorry for my students, I dismiss them as early as possible. This is how my predicament of being constantly left alone in the faculty room came to be.

There is a saying that describes what my co-teachers do whenever they leave me for the night. "Misery loves company", I believe. A lot of my co-teachers dislike being left alone in the faculty room at night for fear that they may become the main character of the latest school ghost story. Before leaving, it almost never fails that a co-teacher would say tell me that "Ay nako, ma'am. Marami talagang multo dito" before narrating his or her encounter with the school's sometimes visible inhabitants.

It's well past Halloween, but I thought it would be fun to tell some of the stories here.

-

From Sir Filipino Teacher
Second Floor Restroom

Shortly after their department head's untimely demise, he went to the second floor girls' restroom to call the janitress assigned to the floor to tell her to clean the department head's room. Because he was male, he could not enter the restroom, and instead called out to the only person he saw inside. No matter how many times he called out to her, the girl in the restroom would not move. He eventually gave up turned to leave only to find the janitress coming up the stairs. Surprised that he had been calling out to the wrong person, he looked back inside the restroom to find it empty.

Sixth Floor

It was late afternoon when he left his students who were practicing their Sabayang Pagbigkas presentation at the sixth floor. On his way back up to check on them, he was met by a number of hysterical students from that class. One of their classmates had fainted because while they were practicing, they saw a group of children watching them and copying all of their movements.

Education Faculty Room Restroom

He says that one of his co-teachers saw a white lady in the faculty restroom.

-

Ma'am Dean
Fourth Floor Senior Faculty Room

This teacher and her student assistant were alone in the faculty room when suddenly the printer began printing a document on its own.

Fifth Floor

She was walking down the hallway when she felt a sudden weight on her back and heard a child laughing at her ear.

-

Sir Natural Science Teacher

Fourth Floor Faculty Room

It was Saturday and he was closing up the faculty room when suddenly he heard someone whispering in his ear.

-

Sir Part-Time Filipino Teacher

Third Floor

He was on his way home after a late class when suddenly a door slammed shut when there was no wind and no one was there. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could.

-

Sir PE Teacher
Old PE Department Faculty Room

Shortly after the untimely demise of one of their colleagues, the members of the PE department were stuck in the faculty room waiting for the rain to let up. While they were doing their business, they heard someone calling out to their companion, "Sir B---! Sir B---!" When Sir B-- went out to see who it was, there was no one there.

Fourth Floor Faculty Room Hallway

On his way home, after locking up the faculty room, he noticed that no matter how much he walked he couldn't reach the end of the short hallway between the faculty room door and the fourth floor stairway landing.

Sixth Floor Classroom

In the middle of his class, his students suddenly ran to the front of the room, frightened. When he asked his students why, they told him "Sir, hindi niyo ba naririnig yung mga batang umiiyak? Ang lakas." He told them to return to their seats, but they were too afraid to do so and he spent the rest of the class with his students seated at his feet.
His students and dance troupe members also tell him that they always see children running around the sixth floor, as if in play. The children run and hide whenever they hear him coming. He jokingly claims that the ghostly children are afraid of his loud voice.

-

Urban Legends
Mango Tree

It's a true story that a girl asked her boyfriend to climb up the school's mango tree to pick some mangoes. The boy fell off the tree and died. Some claim that they see the boy sitting on the mango tree at night. Also, the mango tree doesn't bear much fruit nowadays when it used to bear lots of fruit in the past.

The child in red

A child wearing red is seen in various parts of the school at the oddest times.

Spirit Parade

A couple that used to work as maintenance crew claim that they sometimes see ghostly figures around the school grounds. The ghostly figures enter the school and climb up to the higher floors in the wee hours of the morning.

-

Personally, I've never seen any of these spirits. I have to admit, I fear being left alone, but I don't really have much of a choice. That's life. Thankfully, so far, prayer has kept me safe. And, if I end up meeting one of these ghosts, maybe my prayers can save them, as well.

Out of the fullness of the heart...

There are words which we speak that we often wish we could take back. In one night, I spoke a thousand words I wish I had not spoken. Granted, the people who heard me were trusted and close, it was still unbecoming to speak that way.

It is always inexcusable to speak ill of one's relatives.

While I have my reasons, I cannot justify my words. Still, the frustration caused the words to spill, unbidden, unrestrained. Only minutes after they were completely and fully expressed did I feel the greatest of regrets and the burden of guilt. But, what has been said cannot be taken back.

Out of the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks.

Mixed Feelings?

The images in the news should have been poignant. Smoke poured out of the second floor faculty wing of Philippine Science High School, Diliman. Fire fighters were storming the halls of my alma mater. Flames could be seen flickering through windows I once gazed out of.

And yet, there was nothing.

Five Tickets

Give yourself five tickets to be foolish, but you should use them wisely.

It's quite interesting how we constantly use the excuse that we're only human, when we rarely forgive ourselves for being human.

Love and sex are two aspects of our lives where we are most human. When we love, when we need love, when we want lovin', these are the times when we seem incapable of thinking straight. These are the times when we cannot seem to control our urges. We find ourselves seeing more, hearing more, feeling more. And, even when our minds tell us to do otherwise, we can't seem to find the willpower to do what our minds tell us. Then, we get burned. Then we chastise ourselves for being stupid. We hate ourselves because we already knew what was going to happen. We punish ourselves with insecurity and guilt.

I knew...

I knew that sitting at the lobby of that hotel room was not only wrong, it would lead to pain and heartache. It took me a year to come to terms with that. It took me even longer to let go of the feelings that formed that night. It wasn't that I held hope that it could happen, because it was not something I wanted to happen. It was because I could not forgive myself for what happened, what I allowed myself to feel.

My beloved, do not make the same mistake. We are logical people. We are allowed to make mistakes because we are not perfect. It is not that one mistake that ruins lives, it is living in the shadow of that mistake that brings us to ruin.

Trying to tell me something, CareerPath.com?

I don't know what to say.... really, I don't.

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  Suggested careers are Advertising Executive, Architect, Web Designer, Creative Director, Public Relations, Fine or Commercial Artist, Interior Decorator, Lawyer, Librarian, Musician, Reporter, Art Teacher, Broadcaster, Technical Writer, English Teacher, Architect, Photographer, Medical Illustrator, Corporate Trainer, Author, Editor, Landscape Architect, Exhibit Builder, and Package Designer.

  CREATOR WORKPLACES
  Consider workplaces where you can create and improve beauty and aesthetic qualities. Unstructured, flexible organizations that allow self-expression work best with your free-spirited nature.

  Suggested Creator workplaces are advertising, public relations, and interior decorating firms; artistic studios, theaters and concert halls; institutions that teach crafts, universities, music, and dance schools. Other workplaces to consider are art institutes, museums, libraries, and galleries.

• 2nd Best Occupational Category

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  Key Words:

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Dr. Banzon in the hospital

From Dr. Villagonzalo's email to SanD

"Dr. Banzon is confined at the Marikina Valley Medical Center, Room 6011 (9am to 10pm visiting hours)."

Ah... I don't even know where that is! From what I heard he's already lost a lot of weight, and now he's back on the sick bed again. It's a bit more worrying than usual.

The Melancholy of Ma'am Kristine: Midterm Angst

For the midterm results, a mode of 9/40 says a lot.

It says a lot about your abilty to teach.

It says a lot about your expectations.

It says a lot about your need to change some things.

Quite frankly, I don't want to find out what it says, but the numbers are screaming at me in this piercing manner that I can't ignore. Perhaps, it's for the best that I take that GA job.

-

Apparently, there's such a thing as 'too nice', especially if you're a teacher.

-

I'm sure they don't find Physics interesting, but they will be interested in it. Their college lives depend on it.

-

I find it painfully sad that I knew who was going to pass that exam without even giving it. No pleasant surprises there.

PdLR's Thought for the Day

Life is complicated. If you want it simple, you may be better off dead.

Two Steps and Two Seconds

Does it matter how far I go
when I'll always be two steps behind you?
Does it matter how well I do
when I do things two seconds after you?
Does it matter how high I reach
when I'll always be covered by your shadow?
And why would it matter if I sped up,
when I'll always be far too slow?

Screw you, LiNa@Jobstreet

To keep a long story short, is it too much to ask for a job that has something to do with your field of study?! I did not slave away for six and a half years in BS Applied Physics to become a call center agent, secretary, administrative assistant, tech support, etc. etc.

People who first find out about my course say, "Ah... there are many opportunities in Physics" (provided they don't say, "O? What's that?"). Well, I'm not seeing opportunities anywhere. There are opportunities for engineers, for geologists, for biologists, and chemists. But Physicists?

I don't know... Maybe I'm not looking hard enough. Maybe I'm just being an idiot. Or maybe my pride is getting in the way of employment. I really don't know. I'm from UP, from Pisay, even, everyone else says doors should be opening up for me left and right.

I hate this.

PdLR's Thought for the Day

"Not so bad" does not necessarily equate to "good", much less "excellent".

Bloggers: Mind what you write

I'm not really sure if it's a glitch in Blogger, now that it's affiliated with Google. By typing in the correct keywords, you can get snippets of restricted entries in blogs or view blog entries that have been deleted. Granted, I think there's an option in the blog settings to make your blog un-Google-able (Blogger entries cannot be seen by Yahoo!Search and Dogpile), but be sure that this is selected, especially when you're writing very personal information about yourself. Better yet, don't upload very personal information about yourself. I know that the blogosphere is supposed to be the world's collection of online journals, wherein you should be free to express yourself, but never forget that the blogosphere is also a very public place. Be careful what you write.

Google also stores some old entries. If you search for an old blog entry and Google finds it, if that entry is no longer available when you click the main link, you can click the "Cached" (Naka-cache) link at the bottom and the entry will most probably pop out. I don't delete blog entries because I never had any reason to, but I suggest you check and make sure that what you decided ought to be gone really is gone.

What a friend!!! *insert sarcasm*

I'm actually talking about myself.

"It's just that [that person] acts like [that person] has an EQ of 10."

I was evil enough to say something like that as an excuse. But, that really was the reason why we kept this really shallow secret. Well, they say if one other person knows your secret, that's one person too many; there happens to be four of us, so that's, like, four people too many or three people too many, depending on what your reference point is. (Damn Physics mindset. Go away when I'm blogging!) So, the odds of keeping this secret just dropped dramatically. So, the problem is no longer "How do we keep it?" it graduates to "Who should spill the beans?"

I volunteered, because I was the one who engineered the darn thing, to begin with. Best it come from the horse's mouth. Another person making excuses for me would make everything worse.

-

One thing people have to realize is damage control and repair are critical things in friendships. This means perfect friends aren't the people who've never hurt you, they are the people who know how to minimize the damage and assume responsibility for the repair. Unfortunately, there are many people who, when their relationship is damaged, pull as far away as possible. Not only does this make it impossible for the offender to do the repair, it also allows for the wound to fester, become infected, turn into gangrene and kill. O_O (mental note: Blog only when you're fully awake. End note.)

Heavens know how many friendships I've destroyed in this manner.

Hopefully, I won't do it again. Especially now that this person has come to help repair, or, at least put a temporary patch over the pain.

Dream: Rebel Ivan

It's one of those dreams that had no prodding, no source stimulus. Most people dream about things because of a movie or a conversation (much like Ralph does after I make a preposterous proposition of a couple), but apparently, I don't belong in that category. My dreams come from out of nowhere. O_O

It began with an unfortunate event that I don't really remember. I angered someone I shouldn't have: a higher up in the country and that person was making my life a living hell. Of course, my dream had to be set in a world full of political turmoil and uncertainty.

I was just being me and that place wasn't the right place for it.

So, a few UP friends and I get caught in the middle of crossfire between said person who hates me and a rich old guy who looks like Eddie Garcia (Leonard, in my dream, is the one that points out that the rich guy looks like Eddie Garcia). Eddie Garcia lookalike helps us, but at this point, Ivan has already gone missing. Our mutual enemy has taken him as some sort of cruel and twisted punishment for me.

In a swimming pool (yes, a swimming pool, don't ask me why), I was moping and crying right after the lady who hates me tries to kill me by pulling my head down by my hair under the water. Glai helps me out and she leaves me alone. The weird part about my "crying" in my dream is, despite the fact that there was the characteristic tightening of the chest and burning in the eyes, the tears don't fall. So, I generally look like I'm wheezing and hyperventilating, which is very dangerous in a swimming pool, if I may add. Leonard comes by and tells me he saw the catfight. I ask why he didn't help. He said it wouldn't have been smart to get involved in a fight between women. I throw my left Islander shoe at him and it hits him on the back. Glai, behind me, laughs.

Out of the pool and sitting by what looks like a ferry station, I see a small wooden houseboat painted bright yellow and purple. I have a weird feeling about the boat and stare at it. It's big enough for only one person to ride in and looks like it was made to sink, even with its shiny new coat of paint. There is a stick used as a brake and for maneuvering hanging off the side. It's being carried away by the current. While I'm watching the boat, Ivan's head pops out from inside the house. I give a yell and try to go to him, but the boat is moving too fast. He tries to use the stick to brake, or so we could pull him up, but the stick breaks when it hits the glass window of the ferry station. I scream and run, but I can't catch him.

The next scene is, I'm lying on a bed I'm sharing with three other people. The one closest to me is Leonard. Ivan is still missing, and I'm still crying. I wonder out loud where Ivan could be and what could have happened to him. Leonard couldn't tell me that Ivan was alive, but he said he hoped, too, that Ivan would come back. Then, I ask him, "Asan na si Glai?"
Leonard replied, "Umuwi sa Cavite." He takes my hand and squeezes it reassuringly and I cry even harder. I know he can feel me shaking, even though he can't hear the sobs. Minor detail, but dream!Leonard has much smaller hands than the one in real life.

After what appears to be a long time, I wake up next to my mom. I'm back at home. I go to the bathroom to, surprise surprise, cry. While I sit on the steps leading into the tub, Ivan comes in and hugs me. He's wearing a light blue button-down polo with a white shirt inside. His hair is cut in that stupid flat-top hair style that was popular in the 80's, but somehow he looks good with it. As he holds me close, he tells me, "Give me something to miss." For the first time in my dream, I cry for real. Tears begin to fall. Then realization hits me.
"To miss, you mean aalis ka ulit?" I ask him.
He tells me, "We need your help. Speak to the indigenous peoples for us." Apparently, I'm some kind of advocate on the matter. He leads me out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen where three of his comrades are. one is a geophysicist, another is some old guy who is a leader of the group, and the third is a familiar face: Peter. Peter greets me and I, him. I ask the geophysicist guy if he knows Lourdes. He doesn't. Peter explains that that guy (Jun?) never got to practice geophysics and that he was a schoolteacher. I take note of that information. The three guys explain to me what they need from me and I agree to help. I ask them how they came across Ivan. If they picked him up after his boat sank, or something. Peter replies, "Hindi naman ganun. Nakita namin siya sa Quiapo. Tinulungan namin siya."
Then, they pack up and leave. Before they do, Ivan takes me into my room to "talk" to me in private. He kisses me and tells me he won't be back for a while. I'm already contemplating how our life would be like. We're not yet married, after all. I tell him it isn't like him to become what he is. He tells me, "The order of the movement is a lot better than the lack of order in the country." He further explains to me that some British group is financing their operations. From the way he talks, I sense that he is not only an "advocate", he is also one of the leaders. We do the deed in my dream, but my brain censored it like an MTRCB member. V_V

I am now sitting in Ivan's camp. It's idyllic, like the small barrios in the provinces we've been to. I'm holding a pad of intermediate paper and a black Dong-A gel pen. I'm writing down what appears to be the fate of those around me. Geophysics guy is still a teacher. The old guy is dead. Peter is highly impassioned to the point that he seems to have lost his mind and has begun sacrificing chickens to the tree spirits. Some of the other members of the camp say they will have words with him once they begin running out of chickens for food, but that he is harmless up to that point. In my dream, I predict that he will get to the point where they will have to restrain his activities. I frown at a chicken that is nailed to a tree.
Then, I have another premonition. Ivan's parents are in danger. The group gets a hold of plans which detail the assassination of two people. Ivan recognizes the locations to be his parents' workplaces. He leaves camp to save his family and I go after him. I watch him get shot because he is outnumbered and ill-armed (Ivan, love, in case you become a rebel leader whose parents are about to be killed by military assassins, if plan to save them, bring more than two bullets, okay?). Because there is an exchange of fire, I can't go to him. I can't see him.

I wake up because the sight of seeing the guy who shot Ivan convulsing as his body is riddled by bullets fired at him by Ivan's comrades is too much for me.

Huh. It's so strange how long and detailed this is. But, that's really what I remember. Maybe I should go see a psychiatrist or something.