Moodboard Mondays: Surreal

The last week has passed by in a blur, more so the workweek. I was feeling really, really under the weather and barely managed to make it to work. In fact, I missed three days of it. All throughout the week, I started having odd dreams. I remember the ones from last Saturday the most. It was like watching a series of clips from old films.

That eerie feeling you get sometimes…

In one of my dreams, I had pouted and whined like a child to my mother. She was going on an out-of-town trip by bus and I had the gut feeling that she was never going to come back. I was a hundred percent sure that the bus she’d be riding in would meet a fatal accident. But I could not tell her. I don’t know why but in my dream I couldn’t. I just continued to pout and beg and be petulant. My mother was wondering what had gotten into me and finally, after a few more whining and pouting, she relented. She told me I could come with her. Happily, I got up from the floor where I was sitting, my head on her lap. Without any traces of hesitation, I bade good bye to my father, who was there with us the whole time.

Walking and talking with the dead…

I dreamed that I saw my dead uncle. My older brother, his wife, my younger sister, and I walked him to the open space where he would be picked up. In my dream, I forgot he is dead. In my dream, one of his legs was cut off. In real life, that wasn’t so. He had two legs and never needed a crutch. In my dream, he hobbled along on a crutch but if he was having a hard time then, he never showed it. As we waited for his ride, he turned to me and asked me if I was able to finish college. I nodded and informed him that yes, yes I did. I just transferred schools. He seemed pleased by that. We walked some more until we got to the area where my older brother’s office building was, which was not too far from where I work. My (dead) uncle marveled at the building, impressed by it all. Soon enough, a vehicle pulled up. (I forgot what it was.) He bade us good bye and got inside. Off he went. It was sunset.

Happiness is playing peek-a-boo

In another dream, I was walking along the side of our house, the pathway which connected the garage to the back of the house. My bestfriend since high school was with me and we were conversing. When we passed by one of the two rooms in the basement, we saw through the window her dad holding a baby, no more than six months old. They both looked happy. I stopped and played peek-a-boo with the baby boy. The baby was laughing and giggling the whole time. I felt happy.

The apothecary shop turned bookstore turned horror show

My final dream was in a bookstore which looked like an apothecary shop. It was small, the lights were dim and in the middle of the room was a square table laden with various books. There were other people around. I leaned closer to see more of the books. All of them had vintage photos as covers. Images of families — man, woman, two girls — and images of just two girls (no more than teenagers). No cover had the same family or same two girls. My gaze zeroed in on one book cover, where there was a family picture. One of the girls, probably aged 14 or 16, was looking somewhere else and I noticed that a shadow covered her eyes. And the longer I stared at the photo, the more I got an idea of what that book was about. It was about a girl whose eyes were always shadowed over in photographs and no one knew why. What secret was she hiding? What secrets were hidden by her family? Then there was a shift in the air. I looked up and I was the only person left in the bookstore. Suddenly, a man appeared, wrists and feet bound to this… device. A torturing device made of steel or iron or whatever it is they used during the old times. The man screamed in pain and he asked me to help him. Still in shock and horrified, he was suddenly sucked into a hole in the brick wall behind him. And he was gone, together with that sickening torture device. I was left there standing alone, staring in shock and horror. And a wave of helplessness and sadness washed over me.

I woke up at past four in the afternoon, the room nearly silent. Oddly enough, I was feeling better when I woke up that day, in spite of the strange dreams.


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