I had this dream about 12 hours ago. Incredibly surreal, I have to say. Let me paint you a picture first. About four days ago, I burnt what I think was all my “mementos” of my ex. I also realised how rubbish I am at burning things. Three years ago, my wallet that had money, an ID, and my ex’s letters to me was stolen.
The dream, as far as I can remember, starts with me walking alone in a small street lined with low-rise buildings in Tokyo. It was a cold and grey day. My red and black winter jacket was up my neck. The black beanie I wore didn’t do shit so I bought a pair of brown earmuffs. I wore black mittens that did nothing to protect my delicate woman-like fingers against the weather so I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jacket. I passed by a couple of traditional Japanese ramen bars. You know, the ones with the wood and paper sliding door. I kept walking until I saw this shop that sold accessories. The glass windows that reached from the ceiling to the floor were the most modest not that I know what a boastful glass window looks like. There wasn’t any door, which I didn’t find strange at all. The walls were a kind of sea-foam-green with glass shelves upon shelves bolted to it. Some shelves had bags and shoes, some had magazines.
One rack near the entrance caught my attention since it said, “Used wallets. 50% off.” I was convinced that people came to this shop and had pawned their wallets. Following that logic, the rack of wallets of different shapes, sizes, colour, and material were those that weren’t bought back. The thought that these could be stolen was non-existent. I looked at these wallets like how I was looking for books to buy–by appearance. I only ever buy wallets that are made of leather, folds, and has many slots.
My eyes widened when I saw a leather wallet with black lettering on a red canvas. For a moment I turned into Indiana Jones in the Temple of doom, slowly reaching for the wallet. It certainly was the same brand (Tough Jeansmith has the best Japanese leather wallets btw). I slowly unbuttoned it open as if it were my lover in a rainy day. It had nothing but the letters from my ex. “I can finally burn everything,” I mumbled. Continue reading “Framed in a Japanese Dream”
Exactly one week ago, I told the girl in my dream (here and here. Those were written before I pledged to make better content, so brace yourself) that I love her. She figured I would tell her when I felt like it, even if she didn’t ask, and that she would get it straight from me and not from my friend. We talked ’til 1:45AM, and we talked about a lot of things, mainly on how we should deal with the crumbling relationship we now have. And being the “kind-hearted” girl that she is, she tries to help me move forward. Bless her. I don’t know where to begin, but at least you guys know.
P.S. I’m still working on the post about love. I’m working on paper for uni, so I’m still pretty much swamped.
I had a dream this morning. This dream was very short and very sweet. Although, maybe the reason why it was so short was because I may have forgotten most of it. But whatever. So the dream starts with me shopping in a grocery store.
I was looking about the bread and cereal aisle, trying to decide which one would be much more nutritious and delicious. I stood there wearing pants and a long sleeve polo shirt, two things I would never wear hahaha! I finally pick the cereal box which says Cinnamon Toast. I walk back to my shopping cart and find a young boy jumping up and down inside the cart.
This boy looked very much like the one in the picture above, but much younger. I would say that he was around 3-years-old in my dream. So this bouncing bubbling baby boy starts shouting “Milch! Ich will Milch!” Which roughly translates from German to “Milk! I want milk!” Then he begins to blab incomprehensibly, which is cute.
Then I say, “Hey. Keep your voice down.” He ignores me. “SIT,” I made it a point that I sounded stern and not frightening. He stops, then climbs to the seat of the cart, sits down and stares at me. I, in turn, blow my bangs to relieve some of my stress (like how Go Eun Chan does in Coffee Prince), and he tries to copy me. I say try because all he ends up doing is splattering saliva on my shirt.
I wake up from the dream to realise that I adopted a kid.
I had a happy dream a few weeks ago. Actually, it’s probably been a month since then. I remember this particular dream because it was about someone who I really care about, and no it isn’t about my ex-girlfriend (she’s probably most mentioned girl in this blog hahaha!). Surprisingly enough, my dream was about one of my closest friends.
I haven’t had a pure-happy-romantic-dream in years. Well, more like I haven’t had a pure-happy-romantic-dream since my breakup in 2008. I’ve had other happy dreams, but those were more comedic relief. I had a dream once that I was in a cooking competition with a friend and we were badmouthing each other like black women HAHAHA! I’m not being racist :D
In relation to the picture above, the dream I had probably happened in Japan during the cherry blossom season, and I shall relate it to you as if I was narrating a prose. :D (For good practise since I’m writing a novella hahaha!)
Sakura Dream Continue reading “Ein Glücklicher Traum”