virtual dream country

Unwanted Goodbye

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Sat, 24 Mar 2012 19:56:00 +0000

He had just left the house for the long awaited recording session with his band. I was half awake when I heard noises coming from the living room of our small apartment. As I have a sad disposition to always think about the worst first, the noises being from a robber came into my mind instantly. I was afraid that, if the robber knew I was aware of him, he would harm me, so I continued to pretend I was sleeping. I could feel the noise coming closer, by the door, near the bathroom, somewhere. Half opening my left eye, I saw him through the mirror, not the robber, but he who left me alone in bed for his recording session.

Maybe he forgot something, maybe he doesn't want to wake me up. Again, I pretended I was sleeping, otherwise I would disappoint him, by showing his efforts in keeping me asleep had failed.

The noise was now coming from the wardrobe right by my side, I couldn't fake anymore and opened my eye... There was no one there. I looked around the room... no one. Maybe I was dreaming, maybe was just my imagination. In any way, I closed my eyes again.

Then I felt him, sitting by my side and passing his arm around me, as if he would kiss me. In despair, I grabbed his arm so he would not escape me again, but when I opened my eyes, I could see nothing, I could feel him, but I could not see him. I asked: "Who is there?", and he said: "It's me". Only then I began to see him. "I love you" he said as he kissed me. I could feel a sense of mourning in his face, although for a moment I didn't understand why. Until the truth came to me: "Are you all right?" I asked, "There has been an accident" he said. The realization made it hard to breath, to think. My phone was right next to me so, with a rash motion, I grabbed it, as if I could prevent something by acting fast. He was on speed dial, which I was glad for. A flash of reason made me aware of his presence again and looking at him, sitting in our bed, I asked: "How could you? You are my life, we had plans, how am I supposed to make a meaning for all of it now?". He sadly looked at me with eyes that weren't there anymore. It was starting to become just a vessel, a vessel for the connection and affection we once felt, and that vessel would also disappear, shortly.

Someone answered the phone, a stranger. He asked if I was who I was and, after receiving my confirmation, the stranger cried and said "I'm sorry, he is not with us anymore". I felt like I was crumbling down, I wanted it all to be just a lie, to go back to sleep and wake up in a world where this was all just a bad dream. And so I did, and so I woke up.

My Lliclla Bag

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 01:03:00 +0000

In Peru, Lliclla is a Quechua word for a colorful square woven cloth that covers the back and shoulders. It is secured at the front, tied or using a safety pin. As I walked in the streets of Lima, I couldn't keep myself from being fascinated by the colors of those llicllas. The women could use it to carry cargo, to keep them warm and, the most beautiful thing, to carry their children. As a tourist trying to blend in, I wanted one.

I went to the closest shop I could see that had llicllas for sale. It was a tourist shop. I asked the vendor for a lliclla and she showed me, one by one, all the different colors she had. I tried one out, soon to figure how complicated it would be to carry my cargo in it. Imagine having to unfold and fold all that cloth every time I needed my wallet, or my mobile, while it's ringing! It just wouldn't do. She gave me an alternative, a lliclla made into a bag, with a zipper... much more practical. I bought two. Transferred all my stuff from the purse I was using to my new red lliclla bag and left the shop smiling.

Happy I walked down the streets of Lima with my new lliclla bag, still fascinated by the women with their original llicllas. One of them caught my attention. She had a baby on her back and she was laughing at me. I was intrigued by how a person, that I've never seen before, could be so amused by the sight of me. And then I realized she was laughing at me foolishness. Silly girl trying to blend in by spending 20 soles on a lliclla bag. But it wasn't her laugh what was disturbing me the most. It was the preciousness of her cargo, in an original lliclla, and the meaningless of mine, in a fake one. And I could just watch as she walked away.

The Dream When The King Came To Visit

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 18:40:00 +0000

It was long past midnight. I was at a train station with a friend waiting for no train, for no one. We were just walking along the platform, having a nice conversation. Although it was not an abandoned train station, there was no one around and no train scheduled to arrive or depart. There was only me and my friend telling me a very interesting story about her life, one of the many. The night was cold and dry and apart from her story all I could here was silence.

Listening to her was such a joy. She could make any kind of drama into a comedy. Laughing at one of her many jokes, I bounced my head back. That's when I noticed, from the corner of left eye, a dark figure. I turned slowly and there he was. With his dark clothes, his dark hair and his dark eyes, looking to the ground, immersed in his own thoughts, he was there in my dream, sitting on a bench at that train station. I could see his calm and pale face that showed no expression or feeling. I could feel the presence of an old distant land, a land that I wanted to be my home.

He didn't look at me. He didn't move. I didn't go to him. I turned back to my friend. I walked away. I knew I couldn't live in his land. He gave me a small place to visit every once in a while and that was enough. He was there just to make sure everything was going all right in my dreams.

Backtracking

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 17:55:00 +0000

There was a paper. In it, a grid was printed, a calendar. There was no reference to a month, or days in the week, or even a date, a number, only a grid. At the end of everyday, I put an X on one of the squares. Left to right, top to bottom. A feeling of happiness and accomplishment took over me as I marked that X. As if making through every single day was the hardest test life has ever put upon me. I regained energy while, armed with my red pen, I drew the X. This simple and insignificant action was the fuel that kept me going through the next day.

Until one day, I woke up to find out the X I had drawn the day before was gone. Thinking it was just my imagination, I let it go. By the end of the day, I wrote an X where in the morning I felt one was missing. It was not my imagination. On the next day, I realized two X's were missing. In a desperate attempt take back what I had lost, I wrote down both X's. I watched as they faded right in front of my eyes...

Time was walking backwards as I realized the long waited day at the end of the calendar would never come.

Empty Nights.

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 14:10:00 +0000

Now I find myself surprised with how long it's been since my last post. Yesterday, talking to a friend, he asked me if I had a blog. And in fact I did, or I do. So here I am. After my last post, I entered a new era in my life. Confusing one. Lots of things to decide and nights with no sleep. If I remember correctly, I spent over six months without remembering my dreams. As a result, I completely forgot about my own dream country. I can't say that I'm back. I do have a few interesting dreams to talk about. Let's see what happens...

A Friend's Love

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Sun, 11 Nov 2007 16:31:00 +0000

Today I had a very simple dream. No aliens, or warms, or tasty toes, just me and an old friend of mine at my grandma's old house. We sat on the garden's bench, talking about our lives, catching up with everything we've been trough the last years. My dear friend was looking at me deeply, concerned about my happiness. I said I didn't know if I was happy, and maybe I'll never know until the day I die (or maybe not even then).

We continued our friendly conversation, and it felt so good too hug my friend and be, for that moment, in my dream, completely and immensely happy. But the most amazing thing about this dream is none of the above mentioned. The most amazing thing is how unexpected love comes to comfort you. If you need or not (or think you don't need), if you are happy or not, friends find a way to send their love to you without even knowing about it.

An Alien in a Barrel

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 20:08:00 +0000

One day, I decided to rent a movie in a video store nearby. The video store was huge, and it was taking me a long time to decide upon a movie. It had two floors, with grey walls and looked like the warehouse in Reservoir Dogs (great movie by the way).

Suddenly, instead of being physically in the video store, I was the spectator. And I saw a white guy and a black guy entering the video store carrying a huge black barrel. Like those for oil or something. The white man opened a little hole in the top of the black barrel and a woman with a red curly hair came running towards them. She was screaming and in panic. Then I saw that there was another women, a beautiful one with a short straight brown hair, lying on the floor in front of them. She was hurt.

A green liquid began to come out of the barrel, pouring to the floor. The woman with the red curly hair said that the green liquid in contact with the atmosphere would soon become a terrible alien that could kill us all. They told everybody to get out of the video store and go home. The woman lying on the floor told the others to get out and she would soon catch up with them. She couldn't walk at that moment. She said she needed to rest just a little more. Everybody left.

The woman lying on the floor stood up. She was terrified. She feared the green liquid would become a alien at any moment now. She walked outside the video store, with pain all over her body. Then she saw a light pole. For some reason she thought she needed the light bulb from that light pole. She couldn't go on without it. There was a rope going all the way up to the light bulb. It was tied in the place were the light bulb connected to the light pole. She began to pull it. She put all her weight on it. Finally, the light bulb came out of the light pole straight to her hands.

The end...yeah...the end...

My Shrink Fairy

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 09:53:00 +0000

Imagine if your shrink were a fairy. She would appear anytime you called her. Whenever and wherever you want, you could discuss your problems with here. She would be your shrink fairy and only yours. She would recover your self-esteem, make you feel better, and help you solve all your emotional problems. And the best thing of all, she would do everything for free.

Last night I had this experience. I was in a friends apartment when I heard about the shrink fairies. You only need to call her by the name. My friend called his shrink fairy and a beautiful woman, wearing a princess like blue dress, with a magic wand, and all that Cinderellas stuff appeared. She was surrounded by a bright blue light. When I saw that, I went running to my apartment to try to call my shrink fairy. I don't know how I knew, but I called "Mitable! Mitable!". And a woman in a pink princess dress, surrounded by a pink bright light appeared outside my window. In fact, not outside my window, but outside the window of the apartment upstairs. Because I saw the light, I went to call her: "Hey! It's here!". Maybe she was confused, it was her first time with me. She entered my room, sited in a chair and asked what was wrong. I was really nervous, but I began to tell her everything. My hands were shaking and I started to cry while telling her the story of my life...

A Great Recipe

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Mon, 20 Aug 2007 11:19:00 +0000

I never thought that my toes with spinach filling would be so delicious...until the night I dreamed about it. I was in some kind of garden with a really dense vegetation. There was a guy and a woman with me. I still have no idea who they were and why they where there. They were not even looking at me. For no reason at all, I was not starving or anything, I seated on the grass and cut the toes from my right foot. I filled them with spinach and ate everything. It was so fucking great that I started to think about cutting just the top of the toes from my left foot, fill them with spinach and eat too.

Worms Pillow

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 16:20:00 +0000

In the middle of the street there was a pillow with a white pillowcase. I was with two or three friends and we decided to take a look. It's not common for a pillow to be perfectly placed in the middle of some street. We approached the pillow and began to gently remove the pillowcase. For our astonishment, there were worms between the pillow and the pillowcase. Very disgusting worms. These worms were planting eggs inside the pillow. Everything happened very fast from the moment we saw the worms.

From the eggs new worms were born. These new worms, again, placed new eggs inside the pillow and than, started to go out to the street. They where escaping from the pillow! A lot of disgusting worms were crawling free on the streets. And the number was increasing on each second. We didn't now how to stop. Everything began when we opened the pillowcase! We tried to kill them with our shoes, steeping on them. But that was not enough. They were too many and too fast. We closed the pillowcase and started to look for a solution. What the hell we should do with the pillow? How could we get rid of the worms. We couldn't think of anything, we found no solution. The dream was over.

The Perfect Couple

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 22:49:00 +0000

My boyfriend was with another woman. He had another woman. He had simply forgotten about me. He was dating this girl as if he had never met me before. At first, I saw myself in the corridor of this girl house. Her house was of course her house and also some kind of tax office. All kinds of paperwork could be done there. Marriage certificates, birth certificates, and so on. I have no idea why I was there. I was sitting in a chair in front of a desk. Behind this desk was a woman, dealing with some papers. The place didn't feel like a home, but more like an office. The corridor was all white, the doors were gray and only the desk stood up from the rest. A brown wood desk with a lot of papers and an middle-age woman behind it.

The girl, my boyfriends woman, came out trough a door nearby. She went to the desk an signed a paper. When I look at it I could see that she was signing some kind of statement saying that she have done an abortion. I could only guess that it was my boyfriends son and I was wondering if he new about this. I was taken by a strange felling of happiness. I thought that if I could tell my boyfriend that his woman had done a abortion he would leave her and be only with me. I'm not proud of this feeling or this thought, but I could not help it. It turned out that the woman behind the desk was the girls babysitter. She came to me and said: "You must be very happy... she aborted." I pretended I was really sad.

Then, suddenly, I saw myself in the kitchen. The girls father was also in the kitchen with me. He told me how a great couple my boyfriend and his daughter were. He told me they were in love like anyone else. They did everything together. They liked the same stuff. They talked for hours. They were always going out, having fun, doing incredible things together. They were a perfect couple and I should not interfere in their relationship. Her babysitter also came to me. And repeated everything the girls father said.

I was tired of hearing all that stuff. I couldn't believe my ears. I couldn't believe they were describing exactly what me and my boyfriend usually did together. How we felt for each other. They were describing my relationship with him, but the girl was not me, but another. And I was interfering...

Falling Airplanes

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Sat, 11 Aug 2007 02:51:00 +0000

I was walking at night in Copacabana beach. It was a regular busy night in Rio de Janeiro, but not for too long. I looked to the ocean and then I saw, all of a sudden, airplanes falling from the sky. Lots of them, civilian airplanes. They were falling into the ocean like shooting stars. For no reason at all.

I turn my head to the street and for my surprise there is a perfectly fine airplane trying to take off. Unfortunately, and obviously, the airplane was to big for the street and it bumps into a building. This accident caused just a small damage in the building, because the airplane was still in the beginning of its maneuvers.

Back to what was happening in the beach. I saw one of the airplanes crashing nearby. It was a small airplane and the fuselage had no damage. So I went to the site of the crash to help the people. An old man saw me going there and followed me to help the passengers. Just with our own hands we manage to push the airplane to the sand. But no passengers were coming out. So I entered the airplane trough the back door. The passengers were trapped inside. As soon as I sighted the passengers I saw myself outside the plane again. This time, I was a giant compared to the plane. I was showing the passengers how to get out. Pointing the exit from outside the plane. Every passenger that reached the exit door I caught with my hands and left him or her in a safe place. This way I could save everyone.

In the begining there was only a dream

noreply@blogger.com (Alexandra) — Fri, 10 Aug 2007 21:34:00 +0000

Once I heard that no experience is real unless you write it down on a piece of paper. That's why you should keep a diary. Honestly, I hate to write my real life experience, but I have a dream diary. All my dreams, since last year, are in general terms described in this diary. It's amazing how I'm able to remember every detail. I just don't have patience enough to write everything down. But I'm trying to. They are so real that to help the development of this reality I'm gonna keep a virtual diary of my dreams.

Do you think they may become real in this virtual-digital-cyber space? I believe so. Sure it's better than having them locked in my diary. I want to set them free and see what will happen. Maybe nothing, maybe everything. I'm able to share my real life with everyone around me, but I'm not able to share my dreams. And they are a much better explanation of me.

I don't wanna give excuses. I don't want anyones approval. I just wanna give my dreams a life of their own. As a character in a great movie said: "I'm prepared for amazing things to happen."