Last night I had a dream that had all the makings of a horror film. I wouldn’t call it a nightmare, because as soon as I woke up I began to analyze all that I could possibly remember, what could each sequence mean, trying to remember every detail. I wanted to delve back into that state of sleep to keep going. Set between a blend of Cambodia from the hurried tuk tuk rides away from whoever was trying to slaughter me, my sister, and my mom to scenes in Washington complete with Evergreen trees and a roaring ocean on the front of our door step which in my subconsciousness, was literally a cabin in the woods.
Between our nosy female neighbor who we found hanging in the basement next door with throat slit from ear to ear (was it my mother’s doing or was it our creepy, quiet neighbor?), power outages that sent us careening into “town” in my black Jeep, Dave Franco telling me I look “darling in my lavender leggings” (wtf?), strange faces peering through slatted windows only to disappear as soon as someone was man enough to explore the unwanted guest, and images scrawled in blood with phrases like “LOOK” or “TAKE” with knives eerily taped around the house in subtle places- it was a glimpse into my hyperemotional state of mind and a bit of the manic in me.
It’s been a whirlwind of a weekend to say the least. My mom left for the states to settle down into a new home this Friday and after bidding a slightly drunken, panic attacked goodbye it was both a relief and full of body and mind numbing sadness. Then feeling ill all of Saturday except for perking up a bit at the end of the evening to spend some time at The Common Tiger with my dearest girlfriend here, a video shoot on Saturday followed by 6 hours of “mannequin” modeling for F Port @ Tokyo at the bustling and crazily busy new Aeon Mall. Monday feels almost like a respite to sit down at the office and finally gather my thoughts.
Those thoughts are still scattered and it will take some time to put them together, to fully realize what I feel, to accept, verify, and process them- and then to move onto whatever is next.
The things I do know are this: my mom did not bleed out an irritating neighbor, I did not meet Dave Franco and he did not compliment me on my leggings (sigh), I do not own a black Jeep, and I (don’t think) I’m going to be picking up a knife to seek revenge on anyone any time soon. There might be people who want my blood (hopefully figuratively) but like the malicious, glinting eyes that would peer into our cabin when the night rolled in and the air grew thick with fog, they disappear once faced with the strength of someone who isn’t afraid.
Maybe that’s all I need to know for the moment. I sure hope it is, because that’s all I can really register.