Ever since I can remember, I have always had vivid dreams. Dreams that were so real that I could have sworn that they had happened to me before and when I would mention this to my parents when I was younger and verbally capable of sharing my dreams with them, they would always say it was just a case of "deja vu". But as I have grown older, and my dreams have become more vivid, more sporadic, more radical and life-like, I have been having a hard time accepting that they are all just a part of "deja vu".
Because some of my dreams are of events that I have never experienced in my life, nor do I have any prior experience or knowledge to fall back on that could revert into my dream life. In my dreams I have been a young mother shielding her baby in an active warzone through a seemingly 1960s South Korea; I have been a driver in a vehicle on a drag at high velocity speeds but knowing there was something wrong with my vehicle and not having the capability of stopping it. I have been a lounge singer at a hotel bar, my black dress cascading along the grand piano as I sat next to the piano player, drinking a scotch on the rocks and singing my songs through the clouds of cigar smoke. I am not a singer. I have never been to a hotel bar before (save for the one in the middle of the Hilton in Stockholm) and I don't drink scotch. I don't know where these illusions of a life come from nor where they transform from in my real everyday life.
Last night I had the weirdest dream of all. I was at what seemed to be a college dorm. My college dorm. (I never dormed at college...but I dated plenty of people who did) There was a party that was going on in some kind of main hall or small conference room, I am not sure which and I am not sure that it mattered much. What I distinctly remember is that I was sitting next to my boyfriend, a boy about 20 years old who looked to be Chinese. He had semi-long hair and a soft smile and he seemed very kind. But the food that was at this party was such a wide array of cuisine. I remember distinctly that there was a soup that my boyfriend was encouraging me to try - it was a soup that had some kind of large piece of swine in it. I want to say that it was a huge pig's feet, but I realized that each person's bowl of soup had a totally different portion of the swine in it. It had a wretched smell and I remember being able to smell how terrible it was - something like a sour gym sock mixed with the worst cheese smell you can imagine. I also remember feeling the steam rise up from the pot and brush my face. I remember feeling that warmth against my cheeks. But what is even more disturbing about this dream is what happened next...
As my boyfriend is going down the potluck line (I am guessing it was a potluck line but something tells me that I am not far in my guess) he kept putting more and more random things on my plate. A pastry here, a mashed potato there, rice and some pilaf here. And all of a sudden I felt the ground shake from underneath us. I was suddenly overcome with this sense of fear and wasn't sure why. I looked at him and I saw this grave look wash across his face. And in the next instant, I saw one of the other partygoers rush to the window and open the blinds and in the distance we could see a tornado coming our way. It was so vivid. I could see the graying of the skies, and I could see this massive tunnel of darkness whisping and luring so heavily in the distance, but it was moving faster and faster towards us. I turned to my dream boyfriend and asked him what we should do. He said to get down, to find somewhere safe to hide and something stable to hold onto.
Now this next part makes no logical sense. I remember watching through the window as I ducked underneath this table that was near one of the pillars in the room and saw the looming tornado heading straight towards me. I felt the ground shake and the movement of the building become more ominous and scarier as the tornado moved. I couldn't find my boyfriend at this point ... I could hear his voice and for some reason I knew he'd be safe, and that he had found a separate place to stay.
But so vividly, blog, I can't even stress to you. I saw the tornado RIP the building wall away. I felt the wind tug at me as it tried to pull me with it. I felt the rain that it brought shutter and drench my face and my clothes. I felt the leaves and the branches that it brought in its wake scrape and cut at my skin and my legs as they dangled helplessly against the force of the tornado's power.
And I gripped for my life onto that pillar, praying that it would be over soon and that I'd be safe. And just like that, before I knew it, I woke up.
Weird, huh?
