A dream from 10/12/2009: Cubao is still the same in my dream– vehicles competing for right of way, street vendors hawking illegal and pirated wares, garbage everywhere.

I head for a tiny bungalow in the midst of the urban squalor where a recording studio sits. It’s unclear whether I am there to record or to buy a bass guitar. Maybe both. I would love to use this bass for playing at the youth mass in church, I think to myself. But also I am thanking the recording engineer for his services. I look around his tiny shop and see musical instruments I cannot name or comprehend. All behind dusty glass cabinets. The shop/recording studio has turned into a sidewalk stall on a busy Quiapo street.

I am joined by Andre Q who is as skinny as ever. I’m hitching a ride home with him apparently, in his good old Nissan Sentra. Just like the good old days. And he’s got a baby boy waiting for him in the car. I wonder: “Wow, did they have another baby and not tell me?” I am happy for him however.

Outside, the sidewalk vendors noisily hawk their wares and all is fine with the world.


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