dream log no.010

11/20/2010 § Leave a comment

i dreamt that you were here.

i dreamt that i was asked to dance by someone else and we flew round and round the room. it was lovely and made my heart go up and down. he had twinkles in his eyes and a tender smile.

we went inside the building, a maze of darkness, rooms locked and unlocked, short stairs giving way to other stairs, splitting here, and continuing there. i entered the one on the left, after the second set of stairs and saw a fruit stand. on top of it, my dear friend gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. on the other side of the fruit stand, i waited for him and he came to me.

she had already started it, and i was horrified.

someone passed away and i was broken and devastated. to immortalize their passing, i took a bottle filled to the brim in pomegranate red liquid and tore its top off. as if taking part in a tradition, i ran from a tunnel, across the streets, and into the maze-like building and cried your name, with the bottle in my right hand.

you will never be forgotten, though already i can longer remember your name.

who were you ?

DREAM LOG NO. 009

08/26/2010 § Leave a comment

 

another nightmare.

 

DREAM LOG NO. 008

07/20/2010 § Leave a comment


nobody at the wheel

placeholder for this dream until i can remember it again.

DREAM LOG NO. 007

06/14/2010 § Leave a comment

last night, i had a dream that asked me to choose, and i couldn’t.

i rolled out of bed this morning, turned on the shower, and started to cry.

it was so odd, crying after a memory that never was.

but it was nice to feel something so strongly. even if only to be sad.

DREAM LOG NO.006

04/30/2010 § 2 Comments

source: long lim 

it was made of wood, lots of dark beautiful wood. a house among lush greens. the air was humid and the wind made no sound, drifting lazily in and out of doors, opened windows. the days were hot and sticky, but we paid no mind. if you stood still enough, you could smell the cool of the night approaching.

the little boy pushed his chubby fingers onto the piano. see ? like this, he said. okay okay, i said. and followed his hands, like a dancer learning new steps. i always pretend i’m a dancer; i don’t think i ever forgave myself for quitting. when beautiful music comes on, i dance in my head.

t came by, and pulled me away, to a room with no roof. just a wooden table in the middle and the dark sky above us. we sat on the bench, leaned back on the wall, and talked. talked about lovely things as we usually did. but his face was somber and tired. his beard scruffier than i remember. i didn’t bring it up, i only quietly hoped that he was alright. please be alright, dear friend.

it is morning, or dawn, or maybe the next evening after sunset, i can’t remember. a and i are like two little kids, sitting indian-style on a bed of white fluffy blankets. the fluffiest and softest i’ve ever felt. i should get some for my new place; i just wish they weren’t so hard to keep clean. maybe one day i’ll grow up into a lady who can keep white bedding.

he smirked at the idea of corrupting his friend. me. see ? like this, he said. he rolled it between his lean, drawer’s hands, his grin growing at his creation, then up at me. i had to smile back. it’d been so long since we’d seen each other and now he was finally committed to someone. his hair looked better, fuller, i thought. hmm, i said.

DREAM LOG NO.005

01/20/2010 § Leave a comment

via

i woke up with my heart racing, fighting my way out of a merciless forest.

he gave me a head start, as if he knew i couldn’t ever get away. we were on an island after all, where could i go ? outside, giant white paper dolls hung from listless trees, and through the window i could see someone desperately try to blow them away. pointless really, but maybe when we are scared, we instinctively choose to fight the smaller battles.

every one i knew had left to save themselves and already i was behind. i finally set off running. and so he followed, silently, steadily. i could sense him taking his time. was he enjoying this ? as fast as i ran, as far as i traveled, i could feel him around me, underneath my running feet, observing my movements from above. he had, for reasons unbeknownst to the world, chosen me as his greatest prize.

what frightened me most, was how perfectly human he appeared.

there are so many mysteries in life, but this i knew:
he was everything i feared and the only thing of which i was absolutely, immovably certain.

dream log no.004

12/28/2009 § Leave a comment


carlo van de roer

so many vivid dreams, caused by the sharp interruption of sleep, and the willful act of falling back shortly thereafter.

i dreamt of s and his living room, his curly, tousled hair and lazy smile even though in real life it is firm and his hair is never an inch out of line. i dreamt of a party, the girls he waved away, the brief apparition of his mother, the timid way in which his eyes held mine, so perfectly and sweetly out of character.

i dreamt of the next day, lost in a bumbling sea of people forming lines to leave this place, pushing my way through to find him. in the chaos, i came face to face with d, with a gift in hand. a photograph of john mayer, signed to “van” with personal written instructions on where i should go and where he would go and perhaps we would meet in the middle ?

undeterred, i continued to run, to desperately look for s, and woke up in doing so. i opened my eyes. why had i dreamt s as someone else ?

somewhere in this dream, i had seen l, spent time with l. but what exactly of l ? i can’t place it exactly; the shapes refuse to form. but i recall the warmth in my heart. and it lingers there now.

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