Sometimes life just seems more fun and interesting on "the other side". When I close my eyes at night, I'm whisked away to a distant, yet sometimes familiar place, where I'm everything I ever hoped I'd be and am accepted by all as an equal or better. Unlike my waking hours when it seems like all I am is a number. Something, not someone, to be used and abused for all I'm worth, then discarded like a piece of trash or a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe.
I'm not crying up a storm, here, sobbing "woe is me". I'm satisfied, somewhat, for my lot in life. I find my job fulfilling, though unappreciated most days. It's just everything else that I wish I could have different.
When I dream at night, it seems like all my hopes have come true. I'm popular with the ladies, even sought after on occasion. Hell, I'm popular with everyone. My opinions and ideas matter. It's freakin' awesome. Sometimes I think, if I didn't have so many responsibilities here, it'd be nice to slip into a coma. Life seems more fulfilling and interesting "over there" anyway, and adventurous.
I remember a dream I had a few years ago, where I was white water rafting with the WWE's Undertaker (whom I was referring to by his real name, Mark Callaway), Stephanie McMahon, and Triple H (Paul Levesque). We'd stopped for lunch at a small cafe along the river, and when I went to use the restroom, I was jumped by three hoodlums who wanted my ball cap. (I guess not all is perfect in this world...) Mark, or I mean, Undertaker was quick to help a buddy out and stomped their asses into the ground. Yahoo!
My dreamscape is a wondrous place. It sort of resembles Heaven in the movie "What Dreams May Come", a far and spacious place, uncluttered by modern amenities, yet there are pockets of familiarities. City streets that somehow exist but don't clash with the beauty of the landscape. They're invisible until you look around and see you're surrounded.
Last night, for some reason, I dreamed about work, but it wasn't my workplace that I recognized. It was completely different, yet my co-workers were all there. I was working along side one of the blokes I worked with this week, and instead of treating me like a useless f*ck as he was doing yesterday, he treated me as a equal even requesting my opinion on a pending project. My ideal scenario, wouldn't be to dream of work for the rest of my existence, but there's worse things to be dreaming about.
For instance, there's a recurring dream I have from time to time, where I'm stuck in this house or building. The structure itself changes ever once in awhile, but the premise remains. I can run, walk, whatever, there's no getting out. No matter the route I choose, different every time, there's no escape and I end up back where I began. Of all my dreams, this one, I fear, is the closest to my real life.
Not to mention the nightmares that I have sometimes. I'm fast asleep, but an uneasy feeling wakes me up. I look up and see a small girl clad in a white dress, standing in the doorway of my bedroom. She's motionless, quietly staring at me as I sleep. My cat is usually nowhere to be found, which is understandable, as I don't really want to be there either. I don't do anything and I say nothing. I close my eyes again and go back to sleep. Now I'm fairly certain this is a dream and not an actual occurrence. As far as I know, there's never been a small child who resided in this house. Plus, I've had this dream on a number of occasions at a number of my residences.
I guess I just view these dreams as a form of escape. When life gets me too down, here, I can close my eyes and escape to someplace wonderful. I did the same as a kid, too. My childhood was not that easy. Growing up in an alcoholic home, life is rarely easy. I didn't have it as bad as some kids, but I felt the brunt of a lot of hate and mistreatment. I guess that's why I fell in love with the cinema, as a young kid. I saw it as a way to escape from my day-to-day life, and be somewhere or someone else. I guess that's why as an adult, I continue the practice, watching way too much television and viewing a f*ck-of-a-lot of movies. At last count, I can't remember how many movies I have in my collection.
That being said, I can see on the wall that I need to get some shit done and bills to pay. After all is said and done...; Life is but a dream.., sweetheart.
When I dream at night, it seems like all my hopes have come true. I'm popular with the ladies, even sought after on occasion. Hell, I'm popular with everyone. My opinions and ideas matter. It's freakin' awesome. Sometimes I think, if I didn't have so many responsibilities here, it'd be nice to slip into a coma. Life seems more fulfilling and interesting "over there" anyway, and adventurous.
I remember a dream I had a few years ago, where I was white water rafting with the WWE's Undertaker (whom I was referring to by his real name, Mark Callaway), Stephanie McMahon, and Triple H (Paul Levesque). We'd stopped for lunch at a small cafe along the river, and when I went to use the restroom, I was jumped by three hoodlums who wanted my ball cap. (I guess not all is perfect in this world...) Mark, or I mean, Undertaker was quick to help a buddy out and stomped their asses into the ground. Yahoo!
My dreamscape is a wondrous place. It sort of resembles Heaven in the movie "What Dreams May Come", a far and spacious place, uncluttered by modern amenities, yet there are pockets of familiarities. City streets that somehow exist but don't clash with the beauty of the landscape. They're invisible until you look around and see you're surrounded.
Last night, for some reason, I dreamed about work, but it wasn't my workplace that I recognized. It was completely different, yet my co-workers were all there. I was working along side one of the blokes I worked with this week, and instead of treating me like a useless f*ck as he was doing yesterday, he treated me as a equal even requesting my opinion on a pending project. My ideal scenario, wouldn't be to dream of work for the rest of my existence, but there's worse things to be dreaming about.
For instance, there's a recurring dream I have from time to time, where I'm stuck in this house or building. The structure itself changes ever once in awhile, but the premise remains. I can run, walk, whatever, there's no getting out. No matter the route I choose, different every time, there's no escape and I end up back where I began. Of all my dreams, this one, I fear, is the closest to my real life.
Not to mention the nightmares that I have sometimes. I'm fast asleep, but an uneasy feeling wakes me up. I look up and see a small girl clad in a white dress, standing in the doorway of my bedroom. She's motionless, quietly staring at me as I sleep. My cat is usually nowhere to be found, which is understandable, as I don't really want to be there either. I don't do anything and I say nothing. I close my eyes again and go back to sleep. Now I'm fairly certain this is a dream and not an actual occurrence. As far as I know, there's never been a small child who resided in this house. Plus, I've had this dream on a number of occasions at a number of my residences.
I guess I just view these dreams as a form of escape. When life gets me too down, here, I can close my eyes and escape to someplace wonderful. I did the same as a kid, too. My childhood was not that easy. Growing up in an alcoholic home, life is rarely easy. I didn't have it as bad as some kids, but I felt the brunt of a lot of hate and mistreatment. I guess that's why I fell in love with the cinema, as a young kid. I saw it as a way to escape from my day-to-day life, and be somewhere or someone else. I guess that's why as an adult, I continue the practice, watching way too much television and viewing a f*ck-of-a-lot of movies. At last count, I can't remember how many movies I have in my collection.
That being said, I can see on the wall that I need to get some shit done and bills to pay. After all is said and done...; Life is but a dream.., sweetheart.
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