Dreamer’s Dilemma

I was late to work again. Again, I was slightly ashamed of myself for not having the discipline to wake up in the morning. I went to sleep around 12:30 am and woke up at 9:30 am. That was a whopping 9 hours of sleep. Only babies need that. I’m not a baby anymore, and back in uni I could pull all-nighters all the time and still remain sober for few hours during the day. Am I getting old?

Last week I’d been waking up consistently at 6:40am. Praise me, I know. Since the Sim Lim Scam last Sunday, I haven’t been sleeping well at all. That Sunday evening I couldn’t fall asleep until 6:30am.

What’s up with pumping gas into a leaking balloon even after I refilled the tank on Mon and Tue?

I must confess…it wasn’t the least germane to the Sunday Sim Lim Scam. My old buddy is haunting me again: dream.

Indeed, I dreamed again last night. It was a such a sweet illusion that I didn’t want to leave my dream and return to the less utopian reality. I remember so vividly the scene. A friend of mine that I met on a trip to Tioman few months ago invited me to where he lived, which turned out to offer a breathtaking view that rivaled Halong Bay. I still remember the grandeur of the lake flanked by mountains. Even now I can see the colors right in front of me. I can touch the ripple and hear the breeze ruffling its surface.

I really dream too much at night, so much that it’s affecting my punctuality. I’m not allowed to dream anymore. This weekend I will just refrain from shopping for anything at all, lest I come across another ruthless, unscrupulous salesman in Singapore.

I forbid myself to dream again! I’m not even speaking in figurative terms. When I say dream, I mean physically dreaming, meaning that my whole body and mind are involved in the intensive process that the second I regain my consciousness I feel like drowning into a bottomless well. Yet when I dream, I lose my sense of gravity. Whether it’s a fair dream or a nightmare, once the dream’s over it leaves me paralyzed in bed and incapable of grasping the mortal clock.

Please don’t let me dream again at night. Yet again, it is a rather conflicting wish, for what assures me of embracing the dark and what makes me look forward to it are the myriad possibilities that will color my night.

Nevertheless, I beg for some colorless nights. When my nights are too colorful, my days seem to fade into shades of gray.

Do I ever dream when I travel? Rarely.

There you have a clue.