Sunday, February 10, 2008

What the f*ck am I smoking?

I just woke up 10 minutes ago from a bizarre dream I had. For some reason, it's sticking very well, so I shall transcribe what happened.

The time was late evening.. and for some reason, I was wandering around the grounds of a police/ military base camp (i somehow knew this). I walked along muddy grounds for quite abit, recalling crossing a hill, a field, and living quarters.

Finally, I stumbled on a florist, run by an old chinese guy. I walk into his shop, which was bustling considering that time of the day, and I proceeded to look at his stuff. Suddenly, Shirren, an old friend whom I've not seen in awhile taps me on the shoulder and asks what am I doing here, and if I was alright. Evidently, she claims that I met up with a mutual friend a week ago, and that I was severely depressed.

As she said it, I felt like it was true, and that was the purpose for me being in that florist store. I knew this because I believed that the florist had flowers that had remedial qualities. So I acknowledged Shirren's claim, but assured her that I was now fine.

Then I turned to look at more of his wares. On the shelf were these two pots of flowers that I don't even think exist for real. What strikes me now is how vividly coloured they were. One was a vine like plant, with bright golden leaves. I somehow knew that they instilled good emotions such as happiness, etc. Next to it were flowers I can't really remember how it looked, but I vividly remember the rich purple colour. They, I knew, were for getting rid of depression.

Then I wander off outside to come across a separate segment of the store, which was in an elevated platform. In there, strangely were two of my friends, Hwe and Ashraf (who dont' know each other in real life). They were discussing the potential of Hwe's idea for a horror story for young readers. Hwe proceeds to tell me that the plot is loosely based on how these mysterious books just magically show up in the houses of this group of friends (and how something bad happens after). I nodded my consent of how good the idea was, thought "Damn, why didn't I think of that" and went back down to the main store.

There, I notice that an ex-colleague Corrinne was there getting approval for a diaper commercial (but she didn't handle that part of the business in real life). After this, the dream sputters off and dies.

If you're convinced I'm on crack, that makes two of us. However, I do have a few points to make:

1) Nothing EVER seems strange to you (well, me at least) in a dream. No matter how whacked out it is, it's just another day in the life of.

2) The story in the dream seems to skip. While seemingly random, it does follow a certain linear path. Either I don't remember the complete path, or like a bad DVD, the story jumps from one vivid scene to another along that path.

3) Dreams ARE in colour. Just in selective areas. I had this discussion with a friend on this because I never really could 100% for sure say if I dreamed in colour. Taking this and past dreams, colours mostly seem grey'ish or so hazy I can't really tell. However, I'm certain of the two colours those flowers were.

p.s. I recall now that I made it a point to get that old chinese dude to pack the yellow flowers for me. ;)

1 comment:

Bry™ said...

good storytellin mate. :)