Tuesday, 19 March 2013

The Power of Dreams.

I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was going to get into a whole bunch of trouble that day. You know the kind of day where you had a dream during the night, and that dream sets your mood for the rest of the day? It was like that, except I couldn't remember the dream. Which made it worse, because it felt like if I could remember my dream, the bad stuff wasn't going to happen to me. But if I didn't remember, something bad would happen. And it would all be my fault. You know?

So I get up, and I'm tired, I mean like, really tired. And then I'm stuck in front of the mirror brushing my teeth, and I ended up just standing there with the toothbrush in my mouth for twenty full minutes. So I didn't have time to shower. It was like my mind hadn't even turned on yet, it was still just feeling the dream that I couldn't remember. And then like a crack of a whip, my mind realized I was now running too late to be able to shower.

It was when I was on the bus that I realized that I was going to get into trouble. That a bad thing was going to happen and it would be my fault. It was in my chest you know? Like, deep down in my chest, but it also felt like I could touch the feeling and make it tangible in my hands. But I couldn't make it tangible, and that made the feeling get worse somehow.

So then I go to work, and I keep on edge for my whole eight hours. I try my best not to let anything happen, I keep my conversations light and short with my co-workers. I dread every moment with my boss, but she seemed fine so no trouble was going to come from her or work. But I still couldn't ease up.

On the bus ride home, I knew I had to remember the dream soon, or it would all be over. I knew that. And yet...I couldn't remember it! I was flying into a panic, that's for sure. I don't mind saying, I was flying right into a panic.

I got home and took a shower, it felt great, I was totally relaxed. When I heard a noise outside my door. Like the front door slamming or something. But it was hard to be sure because I sing pretty loudly when I'm in the shower, so that mixed with the sound of the water rushing, it was too hard to tell. But it was a pretty distinct slam.

I was probably just being paranoid, that's what I figured. I was just being paranoid because of the bad feeling that I had had all day. That said though, I heard it again. Swear to God, heard it again! So I quickly hopped out of the shower and locked the door. The shower was still running, so I walked back to it and turned it off, and started to dry myself off. Feeling safe because of the locked door.

I live in a small bachelor pad, the main door opens and you can walk straight to the kitchen with my livingroom/bedroom to the right. The door immediately to the left is my tiny bathroom. I can barely sit on the toilet, but that's because I need to get rid of my hefty gut. It's hard when you work in an office all day. And you have a thyroid problem.

I kept on feeling like I could hear someone in my apartment. So I started to cry, because I didn't want to die like that. I didn't want to die as some fat guy in his towel. All just because somebody did a home invasion because I couldn't remember a fucking dream. So there I was, crying, blubbering really. Too afraid to open the door.

In a moment of angry, desperate courage, I burst the door open flailing the lid of my toilet around. Screaming at the top of my lungs. My towel, slipped off and caught on the corner of my couch. And I fell face first in to my own toilet lid.

I woke up in the hospital. Apparently a neighbor heard me screaming and called the cops. I was unconscious. When I woke up, I told them that I had suffered a home invasion.

In reality, something bad did happen. And it was all my fault. And in a sense, it was all because I couldn't remember a dream.

Man on the corner.

The cool wind was blowing harshly down the street, forcing a collection of garbage to twist into it's own kind of tornado. Random spittle would come in a wave and slap anyone walking in the face. Umbrellas were useless, as the wind was too strong, and the rain was sideways.

Because of the weather, the street wasn't as busy with foot-traffic as it would be on a regular day. But it was still busy enough. Crowded enough for the man standing on the corner. Crowded enough, but could have been better for him.  He was wearing a light black T-Shirt and blue jeans. He stood alone, motionless. Staring slightly upwards, his eyes were face was unflinching to the cold. He stood facing the wind.

In this town, you could be pretty strange without anybody noticing. The only thing that was a set back for him was that he had muscles, so girls were staring. He couldn't stand there for too much longer. But he had to make sure that it worked. So he had to wait. Hopefully it would only be girls staring at his chest, and no one wondering why a man would be standing like that on such a day, for such a long time.

Already a couple of people had walked passed him one way, and then came back to see him there. But they chose to mind there own business. Which was good, for them. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, and looked at the time.

Any second now.

There was a loud sound of an engine, but seemingly impossibly loud for a regular car, bus or semi. And it was coming from above. The wind seemed to get stronger with it. People were moving there head's and bodies to see what and where the noise was coming from.

Not him though, he kept facing exactly where it always had been. But with a smirk lifting up his face.

That's when people started running, jostling him, screaming, running. It was joy in his heart. First time he'd felt that in a while.

The helicopter seemed to crash in slow motion. Into the first and original Starbucks ever made.

Fucking Starbucks.

He dropped his phone and smashed it to the ground. And ran with the rest of them.