Sunday, 06/02/02 - 01:07 am.
I had the most...conscious dream of my whole existence.
I'm going to keep it short, since it was quite long. Cory and others kids were giving me a ride to school. We got there, but it wasn't my school, physically. This one had lockers and was...well, different. But that's not the point.
The point is I knew I was dreaming. Not suspecting. I knew I was in a dream.
I was in some kind of lounge with a few people, and suddenly...I felt real. But I knew it was a dream, despite everything looked clear, not blurry. I also knew that it wasn't my life. That wasn't my school. That wasn't my life.
- Me: so...this is a dream, right?.
- Someone: Yeah.
- Me: if I throw myself against this wall...will it hurt?.
I did. And it did hurt. I hurt my right arm. I started hitting the wall with the palms of my hand, faking anger. It was painful, but somehow I knew I'd wake up and it wouldn't hurt then.
- Me: so this is some kind of Matrix...?
- Someone who'd been in Cory's car: Pretty much.
It's hard to explain. I was conscious that I was dreaming of myself, that I was in a dream...I feel I was framed in a cell of my own brain.
Then I woke up. And I smiled.
******************************
I did call back The Guy. And I...I cried when the conversation was over. Because he finally opened up.
- Me: (...) I got my hair straightened.
- The Guy: hey, that's great. For the prom picture, I suppose.
- Me: um, yeah.
- The Guy: And I'll have to wait another year to get mine...
- (I regreted bringing up that topic)
- The Guy: I was going to go see you guys getting your picture taken but...I decided I shouldn't.
- *silence* (didn't know what to say)
- Me: It would have been like self...self...
- Me: ...harm?
- The Guy: yeah. I mean...go and remember that I don't belong with you (guys) and cry?
I was wrong: him repeating Junior high school doesn't affect me more than it affects him, nor less often. It affects us both, in different ways (only he doesn't know it affects me). And I cursed more than I had ever cursed about that fact. And I cried like I've been crying these past few days over him. Why did that happen? Why did that have to happen?
We changed subject little by little. I don't know if it's ok with him that I bring up that topic. I was going to ask him if he had someone to talk about his frustration with, but I was at a loss of words at that moment. I don't even know if it's ok with him for me to ask him if it's ok with him that I bring up that topic....and so on. It's complicated. I only imagine how he feels.
And I fear november 24th, 2002.
The Guy shouldn't be repeating junior high. He didn't fuck up in the past, he shouldn't be doomed to repeat.
Some things are just not mean to be repeated. I remember Clarissa Explains It All (it was my favorite show), she once talked about it. You could try to make that time last longer, but it will bring sorrow. Sometimes I wish I could play with my miniatures collection (my-all-time favorite game...I had Polly Pockets and such. I'd build cities all over the living room floor and beyond). A few years ago (I must've been 14 or so) I tried again. But I felt terribly stupid when, after setting up everything -took me about one hour-. I grabbed the Polly Princess and held it. I felt embarrassed, although I was alone. I was very embarrassed to be 14, surrounded by a miniature city with animal citizens.
Anyway, I was saying...he's a brave boy.
I hope for him that time flies and in two years he feels like he's waking up from a painful dream. I hope all the pain he's getting from being banged against the wall will seem just as a nightmare.
I wonder what it's like to say "everything will be alright" and actually see it come true.
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