I was telling my mom about my reoccurring dreams featuring two dogs, as I sat looking at the two dogs in the vacant lot behind my house. As we talked the sunset made the world gold.
It was around 6:00 am, my dad was black. He said: “If you get this job we can really be proud of you… make us proud.” I saw his words as supportive but supportive of a narrow target, I realized that when we were white I could follow whatever dream I wanted but didn’t have to live up to anything in particular, or succeed at all really – I was free to be as motivated or unmotivated as I saw fit.
I put on heart shaped sunglasses and a suit, smiling at myself in the mirror. I was so androgynous that even I didn’t know if I was male or female, but I radiated self-confidence because I knew I was something to behold.
In a big empty room with white walls I held a tiny baby and was touched at how soft its skin was. I thought to myself: “This being will never be more perfect than it is now.” I looked at the people who had created this additional human in the world, comprehending how mysterious it must seem even after having known the process. I thought about how the child would most likely live long enough to face strife and know beauty and thought: “I never want to procreate.”
My mom said she was glad that I had known what it was like to be a parent in the dream, without having to go through a lifetime of sacrifice. She said that it is like how I described, and that being a parent was the right thing for her: “Just imagine being your mother,” she said, I replied that that would be too meta. She said she was glad I knew what I wanted.
A group of us snuck onto the roof and it was all covered in shiny white tile. I found a hidden mosaic of a killer whale and fished in my pocket for a camera. Instead I found a tiny white bioluminescent sea creature. It was translucent and had little feelers like a shrimp.
One of my favorite teachers from high school, Monsieur Antoine, was working reception within the building, which was also covered in white tile from floor to ceiling. I asked him if he would let my pocket-friend and me in, pointing out that my the sea creature was dressed for the occasion in its miniature tuxedo, complete with bow tie.
Along with pool dreams, wave dreams have become more frequent. Recently I’ve been recalling 3-4 per week. When Adhit and I first met and went to a night-beach I told him that I had just had a dream in a similar location, where giant waves crashed over my head.
Just the other day I visited Romy’s big house, which had several pools. One of them was filled with sea creatures. I watched the otters undulate underwater. “The current doesn’t seem strong…” Romy said “where are the blue and yellow fish?” I noticed several of these huge and shiny fish, creating currents with their tales: “You mean those?” I wanted to go swimming with the animals but Romy said I would be a foreign element in their ecosystem. Two fat seals with big whiskers sat at the bus stop at the perimeter of the pool. I made a polite smile and said “Hi.” The fatter of the seals responded: “Hi.”
When the tide came in Romy’s house began to flood (it didn’t have a roof). It was on top of a mountain surrounded by sea. The sky was stormy and the surrounding flora was a deep saturated green. I went around collecting my favorite books so they wouldn’t get wet.
Another morning I woke up and told Romy I had a dream about the ocean. “Oh wow, you never dream about the ocean!” she replied. The waves in this one were the biggest I’d ever seen. Little kids were being swirled around without control and I was tempted to join them. My family was on the horizon and I was about to approach them when the tide became too fierce. The waves got as tall as houses and came as far as the row of plastic flamingos that were stuck in the sand.
The next day Romy and I went to Baker Beach in San Francisco. The waves there were the biggest I’ve seen in real life and I jumped up in down in excitement about it.
Sometime after Romy left, my wave dreams got in a competition and selected a victor. I was on a mountain by the beach and adolescents were playing in the waves (I guess the kids from previous dream had grown up). My sibling was one of them. The waves were as high as the mountaintop I sat on and I thought: “These are way bigger than waves I’ve seen in dreams.” I became worried about my sibling and jumped in the water. I tumbled around, summersaulting with the current, realizing it was fun, and that I could return to the mountain whenever I wanted. “Wouldn’t it be cool if I could freeze a wave at its peak and stay at the top?” I wondered. “If this was a dream that would be possible” I reasoned. I reached the apex of a wave and froze it, staying at the top.
As my blog has slipped into low-tide like so many others, I’ve been waking up at 5 or 6 and working till midnight, obsessively dissolving into a reality of my own creation.
I was on the phone with my dad as I rode the bus, telling him about how I am most efficiently productive when I’m on the bus. I’ve read my entire Music Cognition textbook, and most of my the journals for my psychology thesis on the bus. The other day, as my little body shook loosely within this big singing machine, I got more done on the obese beats I’m making in an hour than I do in about 5 in a quiet room with an almond milk latte. I came up with a music video idea for my Video II group project entirely on the 40-minute ride to school (forgot to do so before then). My enthusiasm leaked to the rest of the class and I was selected to be the director of our project.
When you have to intentionally block out a jangling discord it’s easier to focus. When you have a silent workspace it can be painful to get into, and remain on one task. I’ve always found it easier to sleep if there is a party raging in the background and when I was a baby my mom couldn’t get me to sleep without shaking me around to Tom Waits.
My office is the dance-floor, I can’t without overpowering beats and strobe lights.