[i]
☼ ○ ▬
I have to catch a flight. I'm in a terrible hurry. The distance between terminal to terminal is gargantuan. As soon as I arrive at my terminal I realize I forgot my basketballs. Now I'm forced to go back and retrieve them. It's going to take me a long time. Wesley Bunch says he'll watch my luggage until I return. Running through the crowds and corridors. I find my basketballs deflated, which is probably a good idea cause they'll fit in my bags. I make it back to my terminal but it seems Wesley has abandoned me. Luckily, my belongings are still there. I start packing everything up but some airport agents nearby inform me that the airlines don't allow denim or anything made of cloth inside a carry-on item.
Me: "Are you kidding me? That's ridiculous!"
I don't know what I'm gonna do. I mine as well leave my stuff here at the airport. What's strange is that the loft bed from my bedroom is set up right here in the middle of the terminal.
▬ ○ ☼ ○ ▬
I wake up from a dream but I'm not actually awake. I'm still dreaming but nothing's lucid or anything. I have an idea to use what I dreamed about for a short novel. In the dream there is a girl and a boy, both pre-teens. The boy is a few years older than the girl. They meet in a special spot in the woods, a place that feels enchanted to them. There's a fiery romance. Amidst their play they make a promise to meet back here in fifty years. And so we skip ahead fifty years. They've both forgotten about each other. The girl, now a mature adult and already been through three marriages, has a new job as a travel agent. She's helping a man and his wife find the perfect location for their vacation. They drive up a mountain road and stop where a log cabin should be. As soon as they walk up the pathway the man and the travel agent woman freeze. Upon them is that special spot in the woods where they promised to meet fifty years ago. The woman looks at the man with familiarity now. Their faces light up with ecstasy. The man is conflicted now because he is already married but he cannot fight against his childhood love that somehow stayed strong secretly in his heart all this time.
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up at 11 a.m. I love how the music creepily resonates through the vents in this house. It matches the theme of my dreams.
Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk. Grapefruit.
All day shift at China Wok.
As soon as I arrive at the restaurant I'm on the go – delivery after delivery, at least until 3.
Banana. Mixed Nuts with Raisins. Baked Lentil Chips. Honey Black Tea.
Drive. Drive. Drive. To here. To there. Racking up the tips and the miles.
I catch a beautiful display of pink-orange cirrus clouds.
Fuji Apple.
NPR and Free Talk Live on the radio.
Just before 9 it slows down a bit. I decide to have an early dinner: Egg Vegetable Fried Rice.
The fog suddenly envelops the streets of Hilltop after 10 o'clock making it difficult to see the addresses.
Finally getting off work after 11.5 hours of China Wok slavery. But it was worth it. I made more than half of what I usually make.
Back home. Stephanie's throwing a roommate warming cookout party.
[ii]
Sharing Chocolate Chip Cookies with everyone. Marko offers me a Mickey's. A few people strut vampire capes. The back patio is adorned with tinsel and Christmas lights. The fire pit is glowing. I encourage Kevin to jump in on a wrestling match in Stephanie's room.
...
I invite Ana into my bedroom to have some nice conversations in private. But something's wrong. I noticed it earlier. When I arrived home from work she was happy to see me and embraced me sweetly. Later on in the evening I felt something was off in her attitude towards me. I have no clue where it sprung. I inquire but to no avail. She just won't tell me what's up. She stands by the dresser and leans against the door looking kind of scared. I just don't understand. I feel frustrated she won't open up to me. It happens just like this every time when she can't express herself. Her eyes well up a little; with that and her special makeup on her whole appearance is kind of beautiful. She's afraid to reveal this darker side of her, the inward struggles to be a better person. She doesn't ever want to be mean to me and she thinks she's becoming a person that she used to be in past relationships. Also, she keeps claiming that I don't know her yet.
Me: "You have no idea who I am or where I've come from! I've been through my own hell, too, you know? I'm just eager to know the other side of you."
Even amidst this serious exchange of words there's room for laughter and jokes. It's interesting how the power of humor can help alleviate stress. Eventually, she departs, and on a somewhat good note I suppose.
Relaxing in my bed trying to drown out the lingering social noise outside.
Sleep at 4 a.m.
[i] Gunung Gede in Indonesia.
[ii] Image by me.
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