____You could turn this way,
I'm also lonely
____this autumn evening
- Bashō
Although it's not quite autumn anymore, you wouldn't have believed it was winter in Chicago until today. I've been able to wear the exact same clothes I wore back in Georgia every day since I arrived last Sunday. The fact that today was the first day I actually left the apartment has little to do with it.
I fell asleep early tonight, maybe midnight or 11:00 or so. I'm never really sure what time it is here since I didn't change the clocks on most of my devices, but I guess it doesn't really matter. I had one of those dreams that makes you excited again. At least at first.
You're with your friends, same as it ever was. That person you want to be with is there, and you manage to get some good time in with her. Everything is going smoothly, but nothing too apart from reality. She's happy, you're happy, it's how it always was supposed to be. You ask her if she wants to dance. But you can't dance, who are you fooling? And you do it, and it's fun, and you're happy. And everything is working out, more perfect than you could ever imagine.
Then the next minute you're driving, alone, back to your college town at 1:30 in the morning with a smile that stretches from ear to ear. You only have about 30 minutes left to go when it turns cold. You realize this, and start to worry. You turn around, and in the darkness you see what looks like a face. You freeze up. You reach out a fist to see if it's real. The lights turn on. The body in the back seat, malnourished and eyeless, begins to panic. You think you should stop the car, but you don't know how. The body, with it's boney arms gropes for the handle, pushes the door open, and jumps out of the moving vehicle. You don't know why your body isn't waking up, this can't be real, you hope it's not real. You look back on the road, shocked you haven't hit anything yet. A tree is right in your path, but you manage to turn enough only to smash some of the back side. Great, Mom's going to tear you a new one for this.
You pull back on the road, still only wanting to continue your trip to see the girl. You reach to call her, but it's 1:30 in the morning. You look at your phone and realize it's only 8:00 central time, that's not that bad. It clicks, it's a dream. Sad that you now know that none of what happened with her is real (again like so many dreams before), but happy that you can now call her and talk to her with no repercussions. You punch in her number, and look up. A cop is pulling you over. Panic, it's a dream, afraid to be arrested, force yourself to wake up.
It's weird that I can watch another human jump out of my car, most likely to his death, right before I slam into a tree and then still feel bad that none of it's real because that would mean that I didn't actually make out with some girl a little bit earlier.
It's hard to really grasp everything about a dream. And feelings too I guess. I've used them as an excuse to act upon my gut instinct, and I've also ignored that gut, too. In both cases I usually end up making the wrong move. Still, you feel something should be some way, and maybe it is if you act correctly upon it you can make it true. But if you trip on the way, well, there's no reset button.
The moment I started packing all I could think about was other scenarios and situations that no longer could be possible by changing my location. Things that never were and most likely never would be that I've now missed by turning to page 47 instead of 138. I guess I really just have too much free time here and no way to cut my head off. Ha.
____Another year gone—
hat in my hand,
____sandals on my feet
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