a little less than the girl next door (in_transit) wrote,
a little less than the girl next door
in_transit

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of litty dreams

the doctor says it's probably unrelated to my back*ache*, that the ribcage's something's pillar of support and that something's muscles expand and contract (???), and he asked if i recently fell or sneezed/coughed violently, to which i replied quite embarrassedly, not that i can remember. so he looked quite exasperatedly at me, proceeded to give me a bit of an examination, and then sent me packing with some painkillers and some sort of gel apparently for "...post-traumatic musculo-skeletal disorders..." pretty ridiculous huh. anyway, the painkillers will supposedly make one very drowsy, so i still haven't dared to take any of it yet, and besides, most of the pain went miraculously away after day two. my parents suggested that it could be my horrible sleeping posture, 'cos i always curl up in such a way that could potentially crush my ribs and bury myself under mounds of pillows and blankets and whatnots. besides, who knows what my sister does to me at night, since she always threatens to step on me or strangle me in my sleep. haha.

so, anyway, thanks a lot for the whole world's concern, because my previous entry sounded like i thought i was gonna die. heehee, but that was because it was really killing me on day one mah! imagine it hurting every time you tried to take a deep breath in! and throughout tuition when you're supposed to keep the attention of a hyperactive little boy and read him stories somemore! so i'm up, alive, and kicking, and still have all my homework undone at the moment, and alpha dinner's tonight.

last night, i dreamt of wang jianfu, you know, jeff wang from channel 8 tv? i dreamt that it was a very hot sweltering day and i was walking along a stretch of road devoid of trees for shelter with a bunch of people, possibly some extended family whom, until the dream, i've never in my life seen before. then i saw that wang jianfu guy standing outside a very expensive, cool, modern-looking house (the entire house was made of glass panels, so we could see right inside) just a coupla steps from a 30 bus-stop, drinking an ice-cold can of soft drink. then he walked into his semi-outdoor shady and cool kitchen to dump his drink and wash his hands. then he walked back to his house, i remember there were large orange letters printed on his door which spelt "LOFTHOUSE", and he opened the glass door to go in. and we felt the extremely cool air of the air-conditioning inside rushing out, and i saw the black marble flooring which i could imagine feeling oh so wonderfully cool to my bare hot burning feet. he turned slightly, as if to welcome us (or just me?) into the cool respite of his very cool (pun!) home. and at that point, i fell in love with him. note: jeff isn't usually the type i'll like, or even be slightly interested in, not even on tv... i'm still puzzled why i dreamt of him.

then it was nightfall already. i was sending off my extended family (whom i've never actually seen before) at the bus-stop right in front of jeff's house. apparently i must have struck up something with him, 'cos then, i was under the impression that i was gonna be staying with him in that fantastic house. when i turned around to make my way back to the "lofthouse", something seemed to have changed, i had to make my way through the back of several blocks of old, dirty flats, with lots of scrawny, unfriendly-looking, smelly cats slinking around the rubbish chutes. i had the impression that i'd reach back at jeff's house after crossing these numerous flats, but somehow i never really reached, 'cos i just couldn't find it, and then i was running for my life, 'cos in the dark, a car with headlights full on was rushing towards me at a carpark, and the dirty smelly cats were all yeowling away in a most frightening racket. and i was bumping into nobody who was gonna help me, all i was bumping into and tripping over were big bags of stinky refuse!

that was about the end of that dream. the rest of my sleeping hours were spent attempting to incorporate that "lofthouse" into the rest of my dreams, as i was (or am) already so smitten with it. when i woke, my first thought was to start playing my sims again, so that i could try and replicate the building in my game, then i could (some sort of) own it.

for my impatient friends who couldn't be bothered to read the two huge big chunks of paragraphs on the detailed description of my dream, if your eyes happen to fall upon this sentence, well, the gist of my dream was that i fell in love with an actor over his beautiful house, which could serve to fulfil my psychological and social needs (as i learnt in marketing... read: boost my ego). but at nightfall, when werewolves show their true forms, and cinderella's carriage turned back into a pumpkin and her horses into mice and her fantastic gown into her sooty patchy rag dress, that beautiful house i adored reverted into a dirty smelly old dump. i lost my way, couldn't get back, and possibly found my way only into destruction, what with that car coming after me, simply determined to knock me down.

no doubt this dream has its roots in the conversation i had right before i turned in. read what you will into it. i really don't know how that wonderful house could have just turned into that icky acky stink of a place. why couldn't i find my way out? and why did that car come headlong towards me? in any case, i sure don't want to, any longer, put my hopes and dreams in a mass of concrete which will, in due course, become a heap of rubble... nor in a bunch of metal which will ultimately be converted into a pile of worthless scrap.
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