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Sunday, October 09, 2011

Dreaming in the Afternoon—October 09, 2011

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Deeply held by Morpheus, I had been sleeping in my sleep in a room in our old house. Then I see myself waking up, and start wandering about the house. I see my father (he’s now dead for over four years). He has a disagreeable look on his face. It’s easy to guess he wants us, or me perhaps, at least that moment, to get to reading. (He always was worried that we needed spending more time reading, though I did, particularly in later school years as I became more and more isolated, and never parted with the written word, also waking late in night watching TV.)

This time, he was also uneasy about his kids not taking care of our stuff, letting it waste. He soon spoke his mind, asking me how many papers I had to appear in, the coming exam. I tell him it’s twelve, assuring that I can get through all. He seems unconvinced. I move to the mirror on the wall and see myself in it—my face looking red and near sweating.

Then I walk out into the small porch leading from the main entrance to the house. I am disassembling a vehicle, a bicycle, while my father is sitting in the patio, reading a journal and casting a glance at my work off and on. He says we (the kids) are not keeping things in good condition. I tell him how we are using this bicycle’s frame for another engine-run bike. Working on the vehicle, I have my back at my father and can’t see him. But I can feel he is not pleased as he becomes silent.

Then there is a scene in which I am working in my parent’s room on a new cycle frame, saying something like how this new invention will have a built-in everything, including a movable bathroom. It sounds exciting, but my father is indifferently silent.

The dream was deep and I woke up with a strong feeling to write it down. I am glad I didn’t lose the memory or the urge. For a while now, I’ll be looking into the message. 

Posted by Prometheus on 10/09 at 11:42 AM | Permalink
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