I dream that C. has come to visit me and we’re sharing a bed on the balcony. It’s the middle of the night but I can’t sleep, I’m listening to a new album by a young rapper, created on a dare, the songs are simply titled “1”, “2”, “3”, “4” and “5”. I’m crying because the songs are so beautiful, I wake up C. to make her listen, she cries too and I feel validated in my musical tastes. In the morning C. grabs her backpack and invites me to go climb a hill and see the castle up there. I’m exhausted after the sleepless night but I can’t say no to her, I prepare to leave… and wake up, glad I actually got some rest.
Then I dream my old Latin teacher is asking me questions in Spanish, but I never got around to study future tenses. He asks questions about Doctor Who next, and I know those but I already lost my chance to answer something right. As the other kids raise their hands, the teacher falls asleep on a red couch at the front of the classroom.
I dream that my beloved long time penpal, C. is visiting me. She looks exactly like A., my childhood best friend, and that seems totally normal in dreamland. I feel bad for always making her fly here, instead of the other way round. It’s time for her to go back, and I promised I’d go on a trip with my grandparents, but no, seeing her off is much more important. We drive past the beach, the sun is setting, I say, how about it? Doesn’t it look a bit like California? Not really, but I could never imagine living far away from the sea like she does. (note: I HATE THE BEACH IRL!). For some reason instead of an airport we get to a train station. In London. I hug her goodbye.
I dream that I’m watching a cheerleading live show, the music is all by Spice Girls, and the real Spices, all five of them, are sitting on the bleachers, clapping. They look older, with crow’s feet and all, and utterly beautiful. The cheer captain is also gorgeous, I feel a bit guilty about trying to impress her because she’s so much younger than me. I tell her, you chose Spice Girls because you think they’re vintage, but to me they’re a very real, very fond childhood memory.
I dream that I’m making top five lists of my favorite songs, isn’t that kind of random. I can’t remember every entry but I’m sure some Miyazaki was in the movie scores top five, and Sephirot’s song from Final Fantasy VII was in the videogames scores top five. The “best songs overall” category entirely consisted of Fletwood Mac’s Rumors.
I remember this little scene: my coworker S. tells me to take 20 from the cash register and then he hugs me. It feels really nice.
A young man with red hair and glasses knocks at my door. He’s carrying orange flyers and I can tell he’s from a rival phone company. I smile, cross my arms and lean against the door. “Ok, convince me,” I say.
I have a baby with me! Not mine technically, but a sibling’s. I think it’s a boy at first but it’s actually a black-haired girl named Logan. Then I’m sitting at a trial where they’re deciding who’s gonna take care of the baby, and I realize I’m inside an actual TV soap opera.
I watch an old Star Wars movie set in the 1970s. The characters are high school students, they form a band to join in a musical contest, Luke Skywalker is playing the electric guitar and Princess Leia is the drummer. They lose against two white kids rapping, but it’s amazing to see them dancing on stage. I feel so lucky to have new footage after all these years, especially of Carrie Fisher.
I’m with my cousin in the building’s parking lot, we are about to go inside the basement door when a black cat approaches us, he looks very chill and not afraid at all. My cousin asks if it’s my cat, I say it’s not, because my cat’s eyes are green and this one’s are yellow.
We go inside and the building has now turned into a tall maze with different stores and events on every floor. This is a recurring dream of mine, and I tell my cousin I can never find my way out when the it changes like this.
There is a giant pharmacy on the first floor, then a stock exchange. My dad makes his way through the various businessmen, he looks like Ricky Moranis did in the 90s. He stars yelling,
I want money! I want money! I WANT MONEY!
and he’s so convincing that one of the businessmen cedes him the right to some old songs. We go through them to figure out how much they’re worth. They come mostly from pulpy old movies, but there’s also a Christmas album from the cast of the cartoon “Sing”.
They are filming a Spiderman VS Thor movie in my neighborhood, but it’s very low budget. I’m watching Spiderman jump on top of my gate, and I can clearly see he used a trampoline badly hidden under a blanket.
I follow the actors as they run down the streets I’m so familiar with. We arrive at my late Grandma G.’s house: she and my dad are sunbathing in the yard. My brother approaches her and asks,
What is your true form?
She open her eyes and I shiver because I’m sure she’s about to unleash some ancient, unspeakable Eldritch horror on us. But my brother dips his hands in water and gently tickles and massages her bare feet. My grandma laughs and refuses to answer. Instead she tells us to keep our soulmates close.
My brother says he met his soulmate in a videogame. Grandma says out loud the name of mine, but I can’t remember it anymore.
My sister is being insufferable as always, to shut her up I turn her into a cat. And not just any cat, but my very own black, grumpy kitten. I put this creature that is both my sister and my cat in her carrier (she bites me through the bars) and bring her to the vet.
I meet my friend F. there, he tells me it’s not much, but he put some free menstrual pads aside for me. I thank him warmly. As I’m sitting in the waiting room though, two men steal my pads. I confront them with all my wit and sarcasm and humiliate them into giving my pads back.
My breakfast toasts are wrong: instead of mozzarella, they are filled with slices of pale, unripe pumpkin . There’s also a bread roll on the table, it has peanut butter sticks inside; my brother grabs it and takes a bite, I yell because the sticks are actually cat food, but it’s too late, he has eaten the bread.
It’s time to walk to school! I’m running through a meadow because I’m late. On my way I meet two unnamed voice actors and their dog, I explain to them I’m going to “phone school“.* I finally reach the building and it’s not my IRL High School: it’s a ~technical school that I apparently decided to transfer to. Inside there is a massively high ceiling and a lot of stairs moving and intertwining, a bit like Hogwarts but much more airy and modern.
My class is in the upmost right corner, I hurry up the stairs and I’m very relieved to realize I’m only five minutes late. The teacher pops his head from the door, he’s my usual philosophy prof but there’s something different this time: he has a big smile, like he’s enjoying himself, for once. He gives me a pair of scissors and tasks me with cutting out the tags from his sweater. But wait, all my classmates are teenagers, I realize with a sudden jolt. I’m an adult in my 30s! How am I supposed to get along with them!?
Back home, I boot up The Sims. Since I have all the expansion packs, I find some oriental clothes and objects. I create two Sims, an old Chinese woman and her daughter, give them musical instruments, and listen to them playing in the snow for a while.
*My new job is indeed at a phone store, but of course I’d still be stuck in high school in some way.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 