Day of dream: last night
There was a beautiful kingdom, busy and bustling. The buildings were beautiful (actually I don't know much about that, but I assume they are), the clothes are beautiful, the people are beautiful (well groomed at the very least). It's a fairytale world, where soldiers guard the city on white steads. Yet something was more beautiful than the kingdom: the mansion standing in the middle of the woods. This was a mansion of exclusivity, for a manicurist, a man who referred to himself as the artist, lived there with his daughters. The mansion was built with white bricks, with many windows, and a fountain at the front (if I remember this correctly) to welcome his guests. The manicurist was devoted to his art, never leaving his mansion. But his nail-art was so popular that nobles, gentlemen and ladies alike, would pass the soldiers on the white steads, travel through the woods, to have their nails done.
One day, a lady with her lord, came to the mansion to do their nails. The lady had her face painted white, and her fair hair done up that doubled the length of her face, secured with ribbon pins that balanced her puffy grand dress. The lord was slightly round and red, presumably from the wine from the parties, dressed smartly in a swallow suit (I can't really remember what the lord look like...). With their nails done, they happily entered they black carriage drawn by elegant horses, and made their way toward the city through the woods.
Soon after, on the same day, they returned, looking wretched: hair out of place and dress torn. They were welcomed into the house. The nail-artist, upon seeing them, greeted them with warmth for he believed he had done the best nails on them. Holding his little brushes (pin-fine brushes), he wanted to see his art. He was shocked to find that his art disappeared from their nails. "But that was my finest art," he exclaimed (in a slight Italian accent) waving his brush around.
The nobles recounted the witch-tree/spirit living in the woods who demanded... (something, I can't remember it now) They can't return to the city and they cannot call for help, and can only wait for the dashing soldiers on the stead to come look for them when the city realized their absence.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Dream Episode - Marrying a mafia
Day of dream: a loooong time ago
[something happened, can't remember what]
I was in my room, a room very similar to mine in the National University of Ireland, Maynooth: a few stories up, small-ish, a bed, an ensuite bathroom-toilet, a window, a cabinet and everything in similar positions, except there was no desk.
It was the morning of my wedding day. My husband-to-be is rich, very rich. He had sort of a bad boy vibe. Truth is I wasn't sure if I actually wanted to marry him. He proposed and I simply agreed. (Was I fretting over my old issues again in my dream? Was that why he proposed, to help me out of my problem? Arhh...) I peeked out of the window. He hired a fully uniformed band to play this morning, outside my window. I was feeling sick in the stomach because I did not know whether I was doing the right thing. I was beginning to think that he was some mafia chief. That was one reason I was feeling sick. Otherwise, it was the questions that were going through my mind (not necessarily in the same words):
1. Do I love him?
2. If no, marrying him is so wrong!
3. If I do, and he's a mafia... That's terrible of me. What kind of person am I?
4. What kind of person will I become as a mafia wife?
5. What do I do after I get married? Sit around at home? I'll be so terribly bored.
6. Wait, I'll be rich. I can go shopping everyday! But that's my husband's money. I don't want to look like I married him just to spend his money!
6. Help my husband? But he's a mafia! What do I do? Start killing people and extorting money?
7. Oh no, he's rich. That money is made from killing men, poisoning children and breaking up families.
8. I can't spend that money.
9. What do I do after I marry him?
10. Should I even marry him?
11. Do I love him? If yes, then what kind of person does that make me?
I was left feeling sick thinking about those questions in circles until I woke from my dream...
[something happened, can't remember what]
I was in my room, a room very similar to mine in the National University of Ireland, Maynooth: a few stories up, small-ish, a bed, an ensuite bathroom-toilet, a window, a cabinet and everything in similar positions, except there was no desk.
It was the morning of my wedding day. My husband-to-be is rich, very rich. He had sort of a bad boy vibe. Truth is I wasn't sure if I actually wanted to marry him. He proposed and I simply agreed. (Was I fretting over my old issues again in my dream? Was that why he proposed, to help me out of my problem? Arhh...) I peeked out of the window. He hired a fully uniformed band to play this morning, outside my window. I was feeling sick in the stomach because I did not know whether I was doing the right thing. I was beginning to think that he was some mafia chief. That was one reason I was feeling sick. Otherwise, it was the questions that were going through my mind (not necessarily in the same words):
1. Do I love him?
2. If no, marrying him is so wrong!
3. If I do, and he's a mafia... That's terrible of me. What kind of person am I?
4. What kind of person will I become as a mafia wife?
5. What do I do after I get married? Sit around at home? I'll be so terribly bored.
6. Wait, I'll be rich. I can go shopping everyday! But that's my husband's money. I don't want to look like I married him just to spend his money!
6. Help my husband? But he's a mafia! What do I do? Start killing people and extorting money?
7. Oh no, he's rich. That money is made from killing men, poisoning children and breaking up families.
8. I can't spend that money.
9. What do I do after I marry him?
10. Should I even marry him?
11. Do I love him? If yes, then what kind of person does that make me?
I was left feeling sick thinking about those questions in circles until I woke from my dream...
Dream Episode - Ghost ride
Day of dream: a loooong time ago (I really have to start recording them immediately)
There was a house, famous of its haunting. It possibly belonged to a family of miners. The story of their lives and their deaths were not clear. Despite that, the tourism that it attracts soon built itself around the house. The industry itself was huge, almost like the shopping street in Disneyland, with the house being part of the attraction. It was so commercialized that the menace that the house once had could only be found in traces.
I was walking down the main street of the place, holding a little boy in one hand. We were going to rent a pair of boots so that we can enter the attraction. Then I saw them, among the crowd, a father, a mother and a daughter. They were dirty and rough, and were walking towards me and my little boy. Nobody else saw them, nobody else felt them. But I could. I knew they were looking for their little boy. I knew what was coming. I knew they will mistake my little boy for theirs. I tried to stay calm. As they approached, I held my little boy's hand tighter, stared straight ahead and walked through them.
Upon passing us, they startled, and turned around immediately. I knew that they have thought my little boy was theirs. They want him. They followed us. I wasn't scared, I just wanted to help them. I went to the boot rental. After a short line, it was my turn. I walked up to the counter, pass the boots that I was holding (yea, I was holding a little boy and now it was a pair of boots), and told the guy behind the counter, "I think these boots are haunted." (Yup, I've completely forgot about the little boy. Where did the boots come from anyway?) Only the ghost father was with me at this moment (maybe the mother and the sister ghosts kidnapped my little boy?). The boot guy directed me to the cafe right next door, saying that the boss is psychic and deals with the supernatural.
Wanting to help the ghosts find peace, I walked next door and told them that I thought the boots were haunted, and that I wanted to help the ghosts. The bouncer-looking cafe guy (tan with dark hair and a nice smile) asked me to go outside and go up the stairs behind the doors that says "Authorized Persons Only." I went out as I was told, and opened the door. In the middle of the stairs, there was a string curtain that extends to the floor. The cafe guy and a psychic-looking women drew the curtain and invited me in. I walked up the stairs...
There was a house, famous of its haunting. It possibly belonged to a family of miners. The story of their lives and their deaths were not clear. Despite that, the tourism that it attracts soon built itself around the house. The industry itself was huge, almost like the shopping street in Disneyland, with the house being part of the attraction. It was so commercialized that the menace that the house once had could only be found in traces.
I was walking down the main street of the place, holding a little boy in one hand. We were going to rent a pair of boots so that we can enter the attraction. Then I saw them, among the crowd, a father, a mother and a daughter. They were dirty and rough, and were walking towards me and my little boy. Nobody else saw them, nobody else felt them. But I could. I knew they were looking for their little boy. I knew what was coming. I knew they will mistake my little boy for theirs. I tried to stay calm. As they approached, I held my little boy's hand tighter, stared straight ahead and walked through them.
Upon passing us, they startled, and turned around immediately. I knew that they have thought my little boy was theirs. They want him. They followed us. I wasn't scared, I just wanted to help them. I went to the boot rental. After a short line, it was my turn. I walked up to the counter, pass the boots that I was holding (yea, I was holding a little boy and now it was a pair of boots), and told the guy behind the counter, "I think these boots are haunted." (Yup, I've completely forgot about the little boy. Where did the boots come from anyway?) Only the ghost father was with me at this moment (maybe the mother and the sister ghosts kidnapped my little boy?). The boot guy directed me to the cafe right next door, saying that the boss is psychic and deals with the supernatural.
Wanting to help the ghosts find peace, I walked next door and told them that I thought the boots were haunted, and that I wanted to help the ghosts. The bouncer-looking cafe guy (tan with dark hair and a nice smile) asked me to go outside and go up the stairs behind the doors that says "Authorized Persons Only." I went out as I was told, and opened the door. In the middle of the stairs, there was a string curtain that extends to the floor. The cafe guy and a psychic-looking women drew the curtain and invited me in. I walked up the stairs...
Monday, August 30, 2010
Dream Episode (I've lost count) - Potential marriage. Monster-in-law. Cold cold room...
Day of dream: a looooong time ago
I was at my fiance's house, having a pleasant afternoon with my mother-in-law to-be. Though I wasn't quite talking to my mother-in-law (to-be) in person. I was sitting in a simple wooden chair, having sort of a video conference with her - through a black cat... Her (female human) assistants, about two to six of them, were with her. They were wearing black dress suits.
My mother-in-law to-be asked me if I was learning the things that I have to learn to be a daughter of the family. I must have said I have not completed my "trainings," either that or I was not doing to well in them. My mother-in-law - or the cat rather - seemed annoyed with me. I felt like a child being reprimanded. She then had to attend another meeting, and strode out with her assistants, after commanding me to show myself out as usual.
My mother-in-law to-be's house had always made me feel the need to obey. Although this time, I felt rebellious. I was walking through the narrow corridors of the Japanese-styled house toward the exit. Instead of turning at where the door is, I stopped one turn prior... I had never explored the house before. The aunt was in the kitchen at the other end of the house. I checked to make sure she wasn't looking, then made my way up the short steps up the stairs.
The second floor wasn't high at all. It seemed more like the half storey. I slid the paper-screen door open, and found myself staring at silhoutes of bodies lying in rows on bamboo-lined raised platform, leaving a narrow walkway on the side against the wall. The bodies were wrapped in clean white cloth. The ancestors of the family were remembered, and always given a place in the house...
The aunt called out to check that I've found my way to the exit. I quickly slid the screen-door shut, not feeling too comfortable with the dead, and hid on the steps...
Feel: the house reminds me of the Winchester's Mystery House in California, except there's a Japanese flavour to it. There was even a beautiful color-glass window on the steps that I ascended...
I was at my fiance's house, having a pleasant afternoon with my mother-in-law to-be. Though I wasn't quite talking to my mother-in-law (to-be) in person. I was sitting in a simple wooden chair, having sort of a video conference with her - through a black cat... Her (female human) assistants, about two to six of them, were with her. They were wearing black dress suits.
My mother-in-law to-be asked me if I was learning the things that I have to learn to be a daughter of the family. I must have said I have not completed my "trainings," either that or I was not doing to well in them. My mother-in-law - or the cat rather - seemed annoyed with me. I felt like a child being reprimanded. She then had to attend another meeting, and strode out with her assistants, after commanding me to show myself out as usual.
My mother-in-law to-be's house had always made me feel the need to obey. Although this time, I felt rebellious. I was walking through the narrow corridors of the Japanese-styled house toward the exit. Instead of turning at where the door is, I stopped one turn prior... I had never explored the house before. The aunt was in the kitchen at the other end of the house. I checked to make sure she wasn't looking, then made my way up the short steps up the stairs.
The second floor wasn't high at all. It seemed more like the half storey. I slid the paper-screen door open, and found myself staring at silhoutes of bodies lying in rows on bamboo-lined raised platform, leaving a narrow walkway on the side against the wall. The bodies were wrapped in clean white cloth. The ancestors of the family were remembered, and always given a place in the house...
The aunt called out to check that I've found my way to the exit. I quickly slid the screen-door shut, not feeling too comfortable with the dead, and hid on the steps...
Feel: the house reminds me of the Winchester's Mystery House in California, except there's a Japanese flavour to it. There was even a beautiful color-glass window on the steps that I ascended...
Friday, April 23, 2010
Dream episode
Day of dream: this afternoon
My family and I seemed to be traveling. I sensed there was a lot of tension going on between me and my dad. I was playfully teasing my brother, and my dad was not happy about it. He was accusing me of being a bitter person and trying to boost my self-esteem by belittling others.
We were on the road, and it was snowing heavily. So we stopped, at this place where it seemed like a newly abandoned indoor skiing place, with natural snow (don't ask me how). The corners and edges still had some snow on them. The parts that are not covered with snow are baring concrete. There was little snow at the end of the slopes to cushion any brave skier.
I playfully teased my brother into rolling down the snow. We picked the gentlest slope, the one closest to the entrances, and started tumbling down. The way down was slow. We had to stand and restart multiple times, but we really enjoyed rolling in the snow.
When we got to the bottom of the slopes, my dad, still on the slopes making his way down, was again reprimanding me for being a selfish person for putting both me and my brother in danger. At this point, I was feeling like a very bad person. I argued, taking the stand that I understand it is perfectly safe and nobody got injured and we actually had fun. However before I can bring up the "fun" element, my dad, to my horror, decided to exagerate what we did to state his point. He came down really fast, almost hit a cardboard-polar bear, did a mid-air summersault. Just when we was about to hit head-first on the concrete ground, he landed awkwardly but safely on his feet (as if some mysterious force changed his course).
I was furious! I screamed at him, walking back and forth between the carboard-bear and to him, and demonstrating how close he came to making his brains into pudding. He agreed that he was acting like a jerk. And we began to wonder what had made him change his course. It felt supernatural. We agreed, and decided to leave.
Just then, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw my mom in a half-trans state. She was reaching out... to a ghost! I shouted and dashed toward my mom to stop her. The spirit was a ghost of a wealthy woman (who owned the indoor ski place?), and was bounded to the place by her wealth. Apparently she was not happy about it, and wanted to trade places with my mom (partly because she fell in love at first sight with my handsome dad). She promised my mom wealth, but my mom was not aware that she would be trapped. All my mom had to do was take the ghost's clutch.
(Backtrack) So while my dad and I were arguing, my mom, in her semi-trans state, almost took the clutch. But right at that moment, my dad almost crashed his skull on the concrete floor. The ghost turned from her "mission" and saved my dad.
(Back to the regular timeflow) We told her that she can't do that. And she was gone. My mom took the clutch (without trading place with the ghost). We hurriedly left the place with the money in the clutch. (I grabbed my ALDO heels and tried to put it in my purse so that I can take my other two pairs of shoes.)
Note: The wealthy ghost was not scary at all. In fact, I remember feeling comfortable with her. On the other hand, my family is strangely uncomfortable, with little morals and sense of justice. This family is very different from my family in real life.
My family and I seemed to be traveling. I sensed there was a lot of tension going on between me and my dad. I was playfully teasing my brother, and my dad was not happy about it. He was accusing me of being a bitter person and trying to boost my self-esteem by belittling others.
We were on the road, and it was snowing heavily. So we stopped, at this place where it seemed like a newly abandoned indoor skiing place, with natural snow (don't ask me how). The corners and edges still had some snow on them. The parts that are not covered with snow are baring concrete. There was little snow at the end of the slopes to cushion any brave skier.
I playfully teased my brother into rolling down the snow. We picked the gentlest slope, the one closest to the entrances, and started tumbling down. The way down was slow. We had to stand and restart multiple times, but we really enjoyed rolling in the snow.
When we got to the bottom of the slopes, my dad, still on the slopes making his way down, was again reprimanding me for being a selfish person for putting both me and my brother in danger. At this point, I was feeling like a very bad person. I argued, taking the stand that I understand it is perfectly safe and nobody got injured and we actually had fun. However before I can bring up the "fun" element, my dad, to my horror, decided to exagerate what we did to state his point. He came down really fast, almost hit a cardboard-polar bear, did a mid-air summersault. Just when we was about to hit head-first on the concrete ground, he landed awkwardly but safely on his feet (as if some mysterious force changed his course).
I was furious! I screamed at him, walking back and forth between the carboard-bear and to him, and demonstrating how close he came to making his brains into pudding. He agreed that he was acting like a jerk. And we began to wonder what had made him change his course. It felt supernatural. We agreed, and decided to leave.
Just then, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw my mom in a half-trans state. She was reaching out... to a ghost! I shouted and dashed toward my mom to stop her. The spirit was a ghost of a wealthy woman (who owned the indoor ski place?), and was bounded to the place by her wealth. Apparently she was not happy about it, and wanted to trade places with my mom (partly because she fell in love at first sight with my handsome dad). She promised my mom wealth, but my mom was not aware that she would be trapped. All my mom had to do was take the ghost's clutch.
(Backtrack) So while my dad and I were arguing, my mom, in her semi-trans state, almost took the clutch. But right at that moment, my dad almost crashed his skull on the concrete floor. The ghost turned from her "mission" and saved my dad.
(Back to the regular timeflow) We told her that she can't do that. And she was gone. My mom took the clutch (without trading place with the ghost). We hurriedly left the place with the money in the clutch. (I grabbed my ALDO heels and tried to put it in my purse so that I can take my other two pairs of shoes.)
Note: The wealthy ghost was not scary at all. In fact, I remember feeling comfortable with her. On the other hand, my family is strangely uncomfortable, with little morals and sense of justice. This family is very different from my family in real life.
Monday, March 15, 2010
You know you're in college when...
1. ...every noun can be used as a verb and/or an adjective.
2. ...you are willing to trek across campus in painful high heels on weekend nights.
(more to come)
2. ...you are willing to trek across campus in painful high heels on weekend nights.
(more to come)
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