It was a ridiculous dream as far as dreams go. But then again, all dreams are.
The dream begins with me arriving in Kuala Lumpur one day. I was not privy to any calendar or watch, so I do not know what time or day it was, but the air had the feel of a Saturday afternoon to it – right smack dab at the height of the weekend.
I am at an LRT station along with a large suitcase, a smaller suitcase that was pushing the limits of ‘hand-luggage’, and a small backpack. Altogether, a hefty load to be lugging around when using mass transport systems.
When the LRT train arrives, I somehow manage to gather all my belongings into the train before the doors close. There are a few open seats, but I choose to stand with my luggage. I squeeze into a corner, hoping that I am not blocking the doors too much. With so many things to carry about, I dare not stray too far away from the doors, thus easing my fears that I might miss the opening to exit at my station.
Just before arriving at the Pasar Seni station, I am hit by an unavoidable wave of curiosity to see what the station looks like. The sensation that I must see the platform is so overwhelming, that I decide that I will take a quick step out and then hop back in just to sate my curiosity. After all, the train is not packed; jumping out and then dancing back in quickly should be fairly obstacle-free.
At the station, the doors open and I step out of the train and walk around.
The train is not yet ready to leave so I walk a bit further, beyond the exit.
As I turn around to get back onto the train, I spot a sign on the exit. It is a no entrance sign, brightly lit in strong reds and whites. Below the sign are waist-high clear plastic doors that only swing open when people want to leave.
I am beginning to panic. I did not bring my wallet or the little plastic ticket. In fact, all my belongings are still on the train.
The need to be reunited with my clothes, my wallet, my passport, my camera, my laptop, everything is so strong, and the fear of losing it all is so intense; yet despite all this, I am so completely unwilling to just break the rule and hop over the plastic doors. For some odd reason, this is not a matter of breaking stupid rules, it is a matter of the integrity of upholding them. I just can’t do it, no matter how much I want to.
With everything I have in me, I make a sprint for the station’s ticket counter, hoping that I can somehow talk them into letting me pass through the entrance without a ticket in time to catch my train.
I get to the counter, however, I fail to impress my situation upon the person behind it in time. The train leaves, taking with it all my stuff.
The next few minutes are a huge hassle. You know the feeling you get when you are so needlessly busy and feel like you are just going in annoying circles – running errands, waiting in lines, things like that? That’s what this dream gave me next. Going from the ticket counter, to security to let me through the entrance, to going to the stationmaster, begging him to somehow contact the next station and get them to get my bags off the train.
For some reason, not a single person I talk to thinks that a bunch of unattended bags on a train during the middle of the weekend could possibly get stolen. It is frustrating. In retrospect, I suppose it is also odd that they don’t think a bunch of unattended bags is not a security risk, what with all the hoo-hah surrounding matters like that.
I wake up now, at the height of all this frustration. I don’t know if I was re-united with my bags or if I lost them – and most of what I own – to some lucky train-thief.
Dreams have always been more about the emotions rather than the sequence of events for me anyway. It seems rather cruel of my subconscious to let me begin my day feeling unnecessarily frustrated though.
You know, sad as it is, it is in dreams that I have experienced most of my deepest emotions – sheer panic, uncontrolled rage, unimaginable bliss, complete idiocy (yes, so complete that it is a solid emotion). Frustration, interestingly enough, was not singular in a sense that it was pretty much on level with the type of frustration I get with things like dealing with banks during lunch hours on paydays.
I don’t really believe it is some sign that I am about to lose my bags either. I have a steadfast disbelief that dreams are in any way prophetic. If they were, I would have gotten shot, stabbed and pushed off a penthouse apartment balcony by now.
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September 29, 2007 at 6:56 am
Amazing how well you remember your dreams!
When I recall my dreams they are usually in bits and pieces. My most recurring dreams are on missing important exams, and being spied on while taking a shower. I don’t know what they mean except that the emotions involved in those two dreams are anxiety, and embarrassment! :-)
September 29, 2007 at 7:10 am
It’s compensation. I only remember less than a handful of my dreams every year. The ones I do remember, I remember well.
I actually have a little book on dreams and what they mean. (bought for fun)
For missing exams, it says: “A feeling of powerlessness to shape our own destiny may be behind a dream in which we hurry – often late – to…the examination room.”
For being spied on while showering: “…suggests our anxieties about being ‘found out’ – a common neurosis whether or not we genuinely have anything unpleasant to hide. In Freudian terms, the dreamer may also feel frustrated at not finding a proper opportunity for greater creativity.”
It’s such a silly book, but I have had all kinds of fun with it since I bought it. It’s so entertaining.
October 1, 2007 at 6:07 am
Hey, you know what, I can identify with the meaning of missing the exam dream! I never finished my college education, and there are times that I regretted not finishing it .. come on man, there were only two papers left, but those two papers were such killers that I refused to take them anymore after at least 4 times of trying!! D%*@! Hahaha. Anyway, I have moved on, and today I cannot imagine myself surviving corporate world.
Err, about the being spied on in the shower; I think because I have been spied on .. I am pretty sure that I was spied on .. for me that was invasion of my privacy, and it made me feel like I’d be violated. The same way I felt when I was pick-pocketed :-(
When I was a teenager, my family lived in Shell housing in Lutong, and our house was next to a road. There was no fence around the house, so anyone can walk right up to your house without you realizing it, and also the bathroom windows were quite low, within reach from the ground. There was one “window” which was actually fixed louvres facing downwards, but nothing that would stop a peeping Tom from looking inside the bathroom. Why didn’t we have curtains in those bathrooms?!
Frustrated at not finding proper opportunity for greater creativity? Hmmm. Don’t think that applies to my situation, especially now where most of my time are spent on my hobbies! :-)
You know what, I should get a copy of that book that you have! What is it called?
October 1, 2007 at 7:10 pm
It’s 1001 Dreams by Jack Altman. It’s a short, thick book that has short entries about various topics. Unfortunately, it didn’t have anything on a things I dream about.