I still get freaked out sometimes with Friday the 13th. Like today. Days before the date, I always feel like there's an impending doom or something. Or sometimes I caught myself ill-at-ease. I'm not a big fan of Jason Voorhees or the Halloween series either. My birthday is on a 31 and Mama died on a 13, Friday, same month as my birthday.
Something about numbers and their superstitious inclinations. Like last year, 06 June 2006 -- or rather the very ominous combination 6/6/06 -- a unexplicable feeling of dread enveloped me the entire day. I was on travel with some of my colleagues to Cagayan de Oro that day and while inside the van I kept receiving this spooky text messages on doomsday, disasters, anti-christ and what-have-yous.
Crossing an intersection (still in Davao), a freak accident unfold right in front of our very own eyes. It's like as if the van turned into a freezer and froze us in utter disbelief. Two motorcycles collided, the other one rode a couple; the woman was pregnant I think. When the vehicles crashed, the woman tumbled on the side but the man was thrown in the air and smashed his head on the pavement. He was wearing a helmet but blood immediately covered his face. The driver responsible fled to a nearby golf course and everybody who saw waited for almost a minute for reality to cave in and finally got their asses moving.
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