I had a dream last night. It feels as if it’s been years since I last dreamed of anything, but it doesn’t bother me as much as it would have a few months ago.
The one I remember waking up from involved my family and a well-to-do relative I’ve never met before. She wore a red shirt, brown cargo shorts, and shoes that look like the kind you climb mountains with. She wasn’t beefy, though; in fact, she was quite small, just my height, with straight black hair coming to the middle of her back, held in a ponytail. Her face was strong but delicate, and I vaguely remember how I loved her insightful eyes. She asked me about a lot of things, and even in the dream I felt a light ease I usually never feel when talking to people. I told her about my mental and emotional issues, and she looked at me with something like dignified compassion. She was about to speak when the food came and we dug in instead. She asked me then what my name was. I told her, and she told me my Chinese name. I noticed that we were in a different house, but it was ours. It was different, alright; the living room was bathed in ambient yellow light, the furniture felt expensive under my skin, and even the dishes were fine china. Yet I knew that it was our house in that dream, I felt it. My attention wandered to her shoes, and the question of whether she was a climber or not had been on the tip of my tongue when I woke up. It doesn’t matter that we were rich and happy in that dream; it made me want to go back home, if only to see my family. A little part of me wants to find the red-shirted woman and talk to her some more about things, but that’s highly impossible so I’ll settle for waiting for the coming weekends, when I can go home to my family and talk to my mom about nonsense things.
A few hours ago, I was sweeping the floor and reaching behind the fridge when I saw a dead, dried-up black beetle on the floor. That’s when I remembered that I had another dream before the one I woke up from. It was a little creepy, so that’s probably why I forgot it instantly upon waking.
I was lying on a grassy field under a bright blue sky. I was smiling and looking up at the sky, but at the same time I saw myself sprawled on the field, as if I were up in the sky looking down on myself. Some wordless melody floated from my lips, happy and light. Then, in the blink of an eye, I saw a hole in the earth appear under the small of my back. I sunk into it, slowly, but at the same time something crawled out of the hole and squirmed out from under me in hordes of black. I didn’t notice what they were; I was busy wriggling myself a bit, trying to make myself comfortable so I can continue my singing and sprawling. That was when I heard squishy cracking underneath me, like hard-boiled eggs being smashed in a fist. My eyes in the sky informed me that what I heard was the sound of hundreds of beetles being killed under my tossing body. I took a peek and found that, indeed, thousands more beetles were crawling out from the hole and all over me, black shiny bugs oblivious of everything, being killed by the hundreds. Sticky puddles of plaque-yellow bug guts had formed all around me, looking like stringy and stale yellow bubble gum. It was in stark contrast with the green fields and blue sky, and my sharp green shirt, and all the black bugs crawling all around, endlessly streaming from the hole in the earth.