Dream Journal

This will be the first time i tried to track my dream, will be a long post.

Scene 1: Romantic Restaurant

Dinner, it was a three course meal kind of restaurant that you book for a special someone on an anniversary or birthday. i was going through the menu and remembered the high prices that it has for slices of bread appetizer and meat. I began to try to stomach the cost of experience and believes that it was worth the construct of romanticism, money had become the modern society definition of sacrifice. Well in principle it is individuals fruits of labors and the process of gaining it costs the time that it can take for you to do what u actually enjoy in life. You define your pursuit of happiness through the consumption that makes that other individual happy.

As i select the menu, i began to imagine hat the date will be like, the food we will eat, the endless conversation that me and the date will have. Yet, i cannot remember if the date actually happened. As if it was a sheer imagination of what the relationship should be and instead what had happened was the image of my date leaving.

Scene 2: Prison

There i was in a utopia, a world where prison does not equate to bars, cramped cell with open bathrooms. It was a wonderful place that does not strip the humanity out of individuals. It was a lush valley, filled with farms, dense forest, and criminals. Maybe it was like what Australia was to the British Empire, an island full of inmates that were given second chances to reconstruct their lives for the better.

In short i was in that prison. I didn’t know what i did but i was bind to that green island. i was there, i was taking my strolls around the villages, where they had cottages full of activities that would ideally rehabilitate the inmates to have the capability to return to the society.

The cottage i chose was full of women, all dressed pretty full of make up. One would thought that it was a make up tutorial class, but one could never have been so wrong. The class was not about putting make up and clothes on, it was about taking them off.

We were all given time to construct a speech, a speech about our lives, our society, the things that have broke us and the things gives us the strength to get up in the morning. Every time we are inspired by someone’s truth, we will remove parts of our make up and parts of our clothes. The idea is all of us have a mask that we bask ourselves in based on what society constructs as an ideal women. We fool ourselves in dressing alike. It was not about self expression but conforming to become wanted and having the drive to be wanted. Incentives which pushes us to go beyond the edge was what breaks us in the first place.

Speaking out the truth about what our experience stand for was what frees us from such restraining construct. It was what gave women inside that very room freedom and power. Power to break down labeling of what women is, what criminals should be.

When i thought the dream would end well, it continues to a downward spiral.

It was another class, where we learn chemicals and science. The instructor was a man, wearing heavy equipment like what scientist would wear in an epidemic outbreak, He was speaking awkwardly about a tub of dangerous chemical that could possibly create a burning sensation in my skin as if its melting while leaving no physical trace of harm. He had yes like he was stalking a prey, he showed dominance and tries to established his authority around the lab.

I stuck my hands in the pot of the so called burning chemicals and called it off as water and he was just bluffing. He didn’t like the fact i spoke up. i dont know how to put it into words but i felt a surge of threat he starts to throw different colored liquids to me. He said that i was unworthy, that speaking up will cause me trouble, and i should run for my life.

So i did.

i ran long and hard, i could myself suffocating not only due to the loss of breath but scared i will loose myself. That i will have to bow down, loose my voice, and have him exert his authority over me. i ran to a park, a park where many people resides. i lost my inability to yell or ask for help, the only one that saw him as a threat was a small child. When i asked for help, and people asked for witness i automatically went looking for the child.

It was outdoor, the sun was radiating warm waves and the nearby fountains was sprouting cool waters to everyone. When i got to the fountain where i saw the kid, the wind no longer exists, the air felt thick and ice cold. It was hard to breathe as if something was grabbing my lungs, squeezing every last breath as i saw the kid laying lifeless on the ground.

No voice will speak out from me, the first on the scene to help was the chemist. He did the CPR and everyone thought of him as a hero. No one will believe me, i was just an inmate stuck in prison with limited rights. He was a source of power, where people looked up at him, admire him, and his intelligence.

Scene 3: Cottage

the prison gynecologist had come to see me. I can no longer utter words, i did not want to say words. It was a wonderful island and i had the cottage to myself, the doctor was my only visitor. I had no desire to go out, smell fresh air and enjoy my second chance. The utopia, had become a real word prison with cold floors, bars, and constant supervision. The doctor had stated that i was pregnant, he asked who the father was but i did not have to power to say anything,

I woke up.