Once while I was sleeping in my condo in Pasig, I woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat. I was in the middle of my bed, alone in my room, alone in the dark. Why am I writing about this? Because I just remembered it and I just freaked the hell out. Well, it didn’t end out bad, though.
Scenario: I was in the middle of the forest. Medieval times. It was like I was caught in the middle of a war. I was wearing leather armor, and for some reason, I was a guy – muscles, mustache, beard, and all. Of course I knew that it was a nightmare, but I was stuck. I didn’t know how to get out of it.
The first thing I remember was running. I was cutting through the bushes and leaves with my huge-ass sword. I’m pretty sure it was as heavy as me, but I had no problem with carrying it. I was riding a beautiful black stallion, with his mane so finely brushed and he just looked majestic. As my steed galloped (whose name was Internet, for the strangest of God-knows-why), arrows whizzed by me. Arrows were trying to hit me. People were shooting at me. And the arrows… were on fire. It was horrific. Everything behind me was on fire.
A little bit further, I saw a village… or at least it looked like a group of people living in hideous cobblestone houses. (I don’t think you can call them villages.) The arrows stopped for a moment, and I was able to command Internet to go faster, in my deep and manly voice. When I reached the stone-age houses, I searched for shelter. I got off Internet and ran for one of the houses. That’s where I met the Doctor.
The Doctor (I watch Doctor Who) was apparently the psychic-witch doctor in the town. I asked him of help, and all he said was, “Your horse is not who she seems to be.” I was confused, and I answered, “But Internet is my trusty steed. He will never betray me.” All he replied was, “Loyalty is not of the question here.” Seconds later, screams were heard outside, and I saw my enemies approaching.
As soon as I stepped out of the house, I was shot in my shoulder. I winced in pain, and fell to the ground. I looked around me: I was surrounded. Men in black balaclavas, black sweaters, and black pants. They looked like ninja-thieves. The last thing I remember was thinking, “Balaclavas look stupid,” before I slipped out of the world.
When I came to, I felt softness beneath me. Cotton softness. My body is being moved, and I can feel the ground move beneath me. I open my eyes, and I come face-to-face with a cow. I was in a farm. On a sheep. When I stood up, a man approached me, saying, “Your horse does not like being called a ‘he.'”
I woke up in a confusion. I reached for my bedside table, only to realize that it was on the other side of my bed. I had just moved in to my Pasig condo. Probably it was just that – a new bed, new house, new condo, new everything. It took me time to adjust in my new condo, but I have such friendly neighbors here in the Rochester. It really makes me feel good. Anyway, I’m digressing. Back to the story: it took me awhile to realize what the witch doctor meant. My horse was gay. And I was a Knight Mare. My subconscious is twisted like taht sometimes.