*bam*, you remember a snippet from a dream.
i just realized…
last night, i was in santa cruz.
on campus, at ucsc.
walking through the moist trees.
crossing the cowell parking lot
to the stevenson parking lot.
i was headed to the coffeehouse.
i was happy and safe.
i actually dream about being there again quite often. i have to just give in — i left too soon, too abruptly. i wasn’t ready. eventually, i’ll need to go back. and it will be wonderful.
i was in chile, back in santiago. i could feel it in the air.
but we were sitting at the coyote cantina (one of my favorite santa fe “bars” because it’s on a rooftop and open-air). i was with friends.
i realized, suddenly, that i had to get to work. so i rushed to catch a micro. i remember saying “micro,” the chilean slang for their public buses — giant, monstrous evil diesel machines that blow black death smoke from their engines. drivers wield them through the high-speed, congested streets, occasionally hitting pedestrians. they murder handfuls of people every year. i said the word “micro” like it was normal — we were in santiago. but we were speaking english.
when i got to work, it was the italian restaurant i worked at for two years when i first moved to santa fe. it was that restaurant, but it looked like a typical chilean restaurant, with menus written in spanish. i apologized to the owner for being late, but we spoke only in english.
i put on my apron and approached a table, nervously, awkwardly. i attempted to interact in puro español. it felt like my tongue was tied and i had forgotten almost every word.
ironic, isn’t it? all i want is to dream in spanish. and yet, when i finally do, i only speak one spanish word the entire time.
in my dream, last night, i had returned to college. i wandered around a foreign campus, lost and bewildered. i asked for directions. i walked past classes, in session with students ferociously note-taking. i’m pretty sure that miranda bailey, a character on grey’s anatomy (of course), was in my dream. she was instructing me to take some lab results somewhere, but i just got lost. i’m not sure how lab results and college fit together — i certainly was not in med school.
but when i woke, and began to sip my morning cup of coffee, i felt satiated.
i dreamt that i got to work and they fired me. i was pissed.
today, i wake up and think, ‘would this really be so bad?’
two nights ago i dreamt that i was waking from a dream. i had slept on the slope of a rocky cliff, and awoke to the fresh, cool, mountain air. there were trees all around me.
i slid a little, from my perch on the rocks. and, as i slid, i noticed movement amongst the trees.
large cats…like lions…were roaming the cliffside.
my nerves jumped and i considered my options.
fear overwhelmed me.
the next thing i remember is my mother approaching my slippery spot and reassuring me that the lions were harmless. we watched, closely, and silently, together. and then we retreated to her house, which sat at the top of the cliff. the french doors were open to the wild behind us.
though i felt more calm with her by my side, i did not feel all together safe…secure.
i could write more.
i could analyze this dream and figure it out, like all the rest. and, in fact, i do…in my head. i do it everyday.
and then suddenly i find myself so full of thoughts that i can’t think straight anymore.
i spent almost two hours chatting online with an old friend today. quite wonderful conversation about what’s real. i am high with excitement and butterflies. i love reconnecting (or just connecting in general) with people who really know me…people who really get me. suddenly i am reminded of miss a_ desperately.
you know, as overwhelming as my head can get, i feel so alive having these thoughts in it. it makes me feel that, even though i often believe i’m not taking advantage of life, i actually am. it is truly revolutionary.
i’ve been haunted by my dreams lately. they all involve my past. and my parents. and good friends. the therapist and i spent the whole hour talking about these dreams. and we will probably spend the next hour doing the same, because they keep coming…the dreams. and i most likely wake up sweating profusely and i anxiously await for my body temperature to decrease which then inevitably leads to the chills. am i still on vicodin?
oh yeah. i had surgery and finally took care of my hernia — it was pretty easy-going and i found the overall experience kind of…interesting. i like medicine, i think. have i mentioned this before? it is so clearly a result of my new obsession, but i think it is a sincere interest.
i remember, vividly, the experience of getting my blood drawn every three months my freshman year. yay genetics. i loved watching the nurse find my vein and pull the blood into the syringe. having the surgery reminded me of that. in a good way. of course there was some pain. and admittedly, some vicodin. but it wasn’t too terrible, and r_ was wonderful.
perhaps i should have gone to medical school?
i certainly wouldn’t be the dead head that i am today!
