[dream] Siberia, 070728

In my restlessness I dream incomprehensible dreams. They fall apart, then reshape and metamorphose themselves, then they fall apart again. Whatever bits and pieces I can retain after I awake become precious fragments of self-empathy.

Last night, I dreamt I was on my way to Siberia in an old-fashioned steam engine train.

[dream] A Dream of an Invalid

Someone had stolen a red journal that I had kept for three years. Its pages had been copied and passed around. I finally found and confronted the culprit. But nothing I said could express the rage I was feeling for such violation. My voice, my actions, carried no weight and I had to endure the implosion all on my own.

The Chronicles of Gastroenteric Troubles

Monday

Palpable symptoms of gastritis first thing in the morning. Packed a carton of milk and a bottle of Nexium to work. Skipped dinner but prepared for the worst, and I slept with the phone next to the pillow.

Tuesday

No E.R. visit in the middle of the night, but woke up feeling queasy. The half day of work that I planned stretched into a full day. Had porridge for dinner, just to be safe.

Wednesday

I started thinking that I diverted a need for E.R. visit. My spirit was up but my focus was lost. I clocked in and out of work.

Thursday

Woke up moaning. The condition obviously took a turn for the worse, but I stubbornly readied myself and went to work...only to leave before 10AM. The doctor quadrupled my prescription dosage, and gave me other medications. At home, in bed, a good night that went unsaid the evening before turned into a regret.

Friday
I could not get to the medications in the kitchen. Thankfully, mom called around lunch hour to yell at me for not taking care of myself, so I forced myself up. In a couple hours, I was finally able to sit up.

Saturday

The fever finally subsided. Family swung by to take me out to see some sunlight. Except for the nausea that follows each meal, stomach feels much better. It is mostly the weakness from not having eaten more than one meal's worth of food in four days that need tending.

Sunday

No more porridge. Please.

G35

It is an instant attraction.

The compact body with smooth ivory skin glimmers in the sun. Even while parked passively in the parking structure, I am drawn to its bold and carefree nature that show through. With the remote I unlock the doors--the headlights flash, as if to whimsically wink at me.

There is no hesitation. I throw the key off to the side and impatiently push down on a button to start the engine. It plays for me The Doors' "Light My Fire." Oh, I get the message.

We don't take time to get to know each other. I know only what I need to know, and it doesn't need to know me at all--and that is fine. Before long, I am driving it through the surface streets at 50mph, weaving in and out of traffic. As I pass the police station, a thought briefly registers to slow down a bit...but it whispers to me, there's no fun without a little danger. So I continue speeding through the streets, hugging every curve within my reach.

It is not a long drive. I hit home as abruptly as I fell into its charms. When I do, I simply walk away. There is no lingering, no looking back.

At night, alone in bed, I find myself wondering...is this what one-night stand is like?

TL

The set of keys I hold feels different in my hand. The remote is slightly bulkier, the key is slightly longer. I press a button, and with a soft ticking sound, the doors unlock, beckoning me in. It is an unfamiliar territory...but I succumb to its temptation and open the driver side door. It already recognizes me, and caters itself for my comfort. I am yours, it says.

As soon as I shut the door after me, I realize that its black leather interior is a vortex. I cannot get out...until it is taken for a good ride. I do not rush. With a slide of a button, the moon roof opens, revealing the clear blue sky above. I run my fingers around the leather-bound steering wheel, then wrap my fingers around it. My eyes close for a second, then slowly bring the key to a blue ring of light.

The key is a perfect fit, and I give it a turn to start the engine. The blue lights of the dashboard lets me know it is ready. As I breathe in deep, I reach for the gear. The gear knob, also wrapped in leather, fits perfectly in my palm. Slowly, I shift the gear to drive. We--it and I--spare a split second to sync with each other, then I roll it out of its parked misery.

The first music we share is Mozart's String Quarter No. 15. The music may be mellow, but it is not. With the slightest nudge on the accelerator, it wants to jump, it wants to fly. I still feel a little reserved about roughing it up...just a little. But in no time, I apprehend the dynamics of its two pedals and we finally become one....

This, I must say, is the biggest love affair since my '79 Mercedez 450SEL.

[dream] April 13, 1985

It was the most two-dimensional dream I have ever had. No sounds were heard, no emotions were felt, "time" was nowhere to be found. But its haunting memory still persists.

My father and I were being chased by a giant snake. He was running behind me to make sure that I didn't fall behind. The snake was already very close, and had its mouth wide open.

* * * * *

I never woke up from this nightmare, and my father never woke up from his coma. When I came home after school that day, my mother told me he had passed away. We had been preparing for this for months. But saying good-bye never seemed appropriate...until it was too late.