Let's see, so I know the dream involved my sister, my brother, Myra (5 year old apple of my eye), myself and my dad. Hmm, it seems like us three siblings and Myra took a flight to somewhere I didn't quite know initially. The plane went through a series of airpockets, and you could say it was one bloody rocky plane-ride that got me grunting and twitching in my sleep. The destination?? Just to the northside of Chicago, or more specifically, Skokie since in that dream we headed to Aunt Enson's (the Malaysian Student's Department's education attache) home! Yes, even in that dream I was laughing like a headless chicken since we could have just taken the CTA trains or driven. It was a bloody one hour trip away from my the southside, for pete's sake! Heh, but if it was realistic, the next part, which is the crunch, ladies and gentlemen, would never have come about.
From Aunt Enson's house, we magically transported ourselves into an airplane, and once again, made our way through the clouds. This ride saw to a crash landing; imagine how pissing scared I was, crying and ducking on my brother's lap. Selfish aunt, I don't even know if I remembered Yaya should have been first priority. Hehe. Anyways, well, it was a highly unlikely miracle that we landed safely despite the "crash" landing! I lost all sense looking at the clear white snow everywhere and anywhere at the place we landed. Walking for a few minutes brought us to, get this, the city of Kathmandu! Hold your horses, that's not the most bizarre part just yet. We stumbled upon some Shepa dude (heeeh, I'm making an assumption here, since they're the only kaum ethnic I know in Kathmandu from reading Geography back in the lower secondary years=P) and he took us to a huge treehouse.
Boy-oh-boy, it was my dad's house (because, well, in this dream, he was in that house). Is this friggin cool or what? There's an almost zero probability that one has a dad who owns an effing big treehouse in Nepal of all places! I forgot the details of the tree house (I keep smiling to myself as I type tree house now), but I do remember that we had to climb two flights of stairs before coming to a one-floor living space that had a living room, bedroom and cozy dining room. Macam that Disney movie Meet the Robinson's (or was it the Robinson's family or something) who made an awesome tree house at some jungle on an island they got stranded at. Surreal, and downright crazy now that I think about it. Underneath all that, I think what made me happy in that dream was just the amount of time we spent together, all five of us, in that dream of a house. Yaya, of course, was so happy since it was a treehouse. Which 5 year old doesn't get excited at the fct that she's LIVING on a trehouse?
All the blurry details in between, we moved to a different location, where my dad promised to build us another treehouse. So, we traveled to where it was (by foot, by car, by plane, beats me!), and this second house was Ya Allah even more amazing than before! It was located at this terraced hill, which looked like, you know, steps. The house was right in the middle, at the bottom. Imagine an amphitheatre, and the big ring in the middle was where the house was.
The three of us got so excited that we beat Myra at being so childish and jumpy and all that hullabaloo. But the most awesome feature of this house was that some big ass waterfall actually cascaded down to our doorsteps! It was like living at the foot of Niagara Falls or something. Yes, I'm not talking about those teeny tiny waterfalls at Ulu Yam or Kuala Pilah, this was the big mother-nature gift. Hahaha! We had so much fun running away from the crashing water, and it was amazing that my normal paranoid self did not get all tensed up about how it may destroy the house, how we might be drowned, etc.
My interpretation on all this muse? I definitely yearn for those times when I was smaller and my dad would take the three of us on a holiday, either to Cherating or Langkawi. The last time my dad took me on one was when I was nine. We went to the East Coast--Kuala Terengganu and Kota Bharu--and I probably had the best time of my life just having him all to myself. Things went downhill soon after and I never got another holiday with him. It would be weird too, to go on a family holiday now, since we're all adults, my brother, sister and I. My sister has her own family, and my dad also got remarried. Heh, it would never be the same again, I guess.
But yeah, I'm guessing Sigmund Freud was dead accurate when he posited that dreams are a manifestation of one's repressed desires. However, I assure you that my "repressed desires" have nothing to do with the incestual desire Freud believes every person innately have. Heh, apparently he thinks that every little boy goes through an Oedipus Complex whereby he becomes fixated at mommy's titties and yearns for mommy sexually. Meanwhile, the girl would harbor the same sentiments towards the father; sadly mistaken that daddy is her love of her life Hm. I don't buy any of that, astaga.
But again, I told you I have a deprived childhood, and it's all coming back to me now. . .
Wheee! Can I be young and six, and do cartwheels and play tag all day long, and get to spend more time with my father before I have to grow up and grow boobies and can drive on my own that I don't need him to take me places anymore? Hehe. Stay tuned.
1 comments:
Post a Comment