21 August 2007
Categorised as Personal, Romance & tagged with drawings, dream, love.
Do you often have vivid dreams where you’re able to remember clearly the next morning the “dream dimension” you had entered into the previous night? I don’t have many of these vivid dreams where I can recall them long enough for me to record into my “dream diary”, but I still maintain one.
I only started this year and I’ve managed to record a few interesting adventures. By “interesting” I mean supernatural and horror, a few stupid ones too, and one of them though not bothered to be recorded, has remained vivid enough for me to attempt writing a novel out of.
Two other vivid dreams I had perhaps two years ago I can still remember the bulk of their plots. This was how my fantasy for vampires deepened. (It had already started earlier from two romance novels.) I dreamt I met my vampire soul-mate in first-year at university so I’m sulking now because my first-year is almost over and still no sign of him. 
(I’m not really sulking it’s just the feeling of “sigh, awww”.)
So the other day, I was having a weird argument with my friend on MSN, as usual. And we were debating about vampires. He said vampires are violent and bloody but I argued that vampires are romantic and sexy. They also have cute pet bats. “Cute?” Well, here’s my random doodle-depiction of cute vampire pet bats:
Vampire bats
Normal bats are… normal. But vampire bats are cute because they’re fat and round. That is because vampires are rich and powerful, they live in beautiful antique-style villas and mansions or the grand medieval castles, so their pet bats get well-fed. (At least in my fantasy dimension they do.)
Agree? Disagree? 
Fantasies keep up your imaginative and creative young self and I studied my history. Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered that powerful line: I have a dream
. We should believe in our “dreams”, right?
17 July 2007
Categorised as Personal, School & tagged with dream.
Statement: My physical ability to balance myself is currently in negative proportion to my age.
In other words: The number of times I have been stumbling or tripping over air has been increasing dramatically.
Story #1: During my two years working at a homeware store, I would stumble several times every workday that my workmates would be constantly watching my steps.
Note: I was wearing plain flat-heel shoes.
Story #2: I went out with my friends one day during this recent holiday and they lost their count over how many times I was stumbling that day – again, in flat-heels.
Note: when you put a balance-challenged human being on ice, you see more than just “stumbles”. Be ready to crack-up at some exciting full-body collapses.
Conclusion: In flat-heels, one foot would constantly “interfere” with the other foot so I walk better on high-heels.
Unfortunately, I had to alter that conclusion. Yesterday, I slipped on this stone staircase in school. As I slipped in the middle of the staircase, I landed on my lower legs (not knee) on the sharp edge of a step so I got myself two big bruises. Is that a one-time thing? No. Because I just did it again today.
Start of new semesters seem to be unlucky for me. I remember on the first day of last semester, I had a water-leak in my bag in the first class that almost murdered my cellphone. (It survived, but still suffering hard from some weird side-effects.) Later that day, the bus broke down when I was about a 40-minute walk away from home. But I was too tired to get up and walk. The start of this semester was characterised by the two “trips” I had in these two days and I lost my cellphone in the last class today too. Fortunately, someone picked it up and handed it in to the school. I was saved.
As a pessimist in the aspect of superstitions. I define these “signs” as omens. I recently had a dream… The setting was one of those dark, narrow European streets in the 19th-century times. (As a believer of reincarnation, I almost wanted to call it my past-life.) I was happily walking hand-in-hand with a lover until the doctor diagnosed some illness I had which meant I would not live past the age of 18. (As in, I would die sometime while I was still 18.) I mourn for that sad girl with a sad fate who might’ve been the 19th-century me.
Let’s see if I will live to see the light of my 19th birthday. Omens, omens, omens… *screams*
