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THIS ONE IS VERY IMPORTANT TO MY LIFE.)
My mind has been going about one million miles per hour this week.
I think that 4:00 AM on an early Friday morning shall be a good time to take a pause, and recollect.
As I write this, I am sitting atop my roof. I find it to be my place of quiet disconnect, even though (quite ironically) it is still technically my house, and my neighborhood. But there's something about it, though. I guess being so high up above the ground kind of lets me imagine myself as if I am floating into the Twilight sky.
The man who delivers the daily newspapers in his old, white, beat-up Toyota pick-up truck just drove by with Timbaland blasting through the thumping stereo and out of his open windows. He stopped to look up at me curiously, and gave me a friendly wave.
It is reassuring that other beings are also awake at such an ungodly hour. Though, perhaps, it is his job to be awake at this time.
Me? Well. I just can't sleep.
A raccoon is pillaging a neighbor's trash can. I feel as if I should do something, but the sight is giving me entertainment, so I don't really want to say anything to stop it.
The hills look indigo from here, and there is a beautiful lavender halo surrounding the valley. There is one golden star peeking over the highest part of the mountains. The air is settling upon my skin in a very lovely way, and I can feel the cool wind gently grazing my goose-pimpled skin. Finally, summer air.
I have decided to share a very important part of my life with you all, or you all who decide to read what I write here.
A few years ago, my family visited the beautiful city of San Francisco. I remember it being a business trip for my Father. I met many men in fitted suits and buttoned shirts, tightened neckties, with styled hair, clean shaven chins, and bad breath.
But most of all I remember walking the paved streets with my Father. I remember walking right behind him, trying to step in the exact place that he had stepped just before. I remember wearing a denim overall dress, with brown mary janes and white lace socks. I remember holding a balloon that I had gotten from a restaurant. We stopped outside a tall building, and he kneeled down and kissed me on my forehead. Apparently, this was the office that he worked for.
We left him, and he worked all day as my Mom, brother, and sister trekked the streets. We shopped, and did many other things. I mostly remember that we visited a hands on Science Museum.
Later, Dad rejoined us. To save you the boredom of all the little details, during the rest of the trip, we visited other tourist spots. I distinctly remember visiting China Town. It was such a different atmosphere, and amazingly enough, I felt the extreme culture shock, even though I was still in the same Country, let alone, the same State, and the same city. It was a beautiful place, though. The little shoppes were filled with knick-knacks and pleasant gifts that brought a smile to my face. There were toothless men who smiled, and little dogs that barked, and lovely Chinese women that waved their fans in the humid air, and steam that slowly rose from the manholes. Echoes of smells, sounds, and tastes vibrated against every corner of every building, and struck a chord in my brain that would cause the scene to be stored in my memory forever.
We visited the Golden Gate Bridge, which we walked across entirely, only to drive back across. I remember the day was very hazy, and foggy. By the time that we had walked across though, the sun was shinning brilliantly. I remember meeting a homeless woman by the restrooms. She carried only a small cat with her, and wore a neon scarf. I remember being frightened because she smelled bad, and I wish now that I could have talked to her, so that I could have learned her story. I also remember taking pictures by the Alcatraz prison, and on some sort of landing. However, I think those photographs may have been lost.
However, one memory that I do not remember is the one photographed first, in which I have named on my computer "the dream hill." If you scroll up, you can see this sort of zig-zagged road decending down a sloped hill, embraced by pink flower beds and boxed hedges. When I came upon this photograph, I could not remember seeing this scene from my memory, instead, I could only remember the scene from my dreams.
For the past few years, I have dreamed a re-occuring dream that takes place right where you are viewing the photograph. The first time that I had this dream was when I was about 15 years of age. But, I have dreamed it numerous times. However, this re-occuring dream interchanges between two different scenarios. I have just recently had the dream again last week.
First scenario:In my first dream, I remember wandering the streets of China Town, much like the photograph. However, I was much, much older. In the dream, I must have been in my late twenties. I wore the same outfit, though, as described earlier. I wore a denim overall dress, with brown mary janes, and white frilly socks. I carried a balloon in my left hand.
I remember feeling happy in my dream, an overbearing sense of joy. It felt much like childhood, with no stress and no worries.
In my dream, I saw my Dad in the distance, and behind him, the sun was setting with a deep orange glow. He seemed to be turning and walking away, and so I followed him. In the dream, I remembered blinking. Everything turned black, and when I opened my eyes, I was suddenly at The Dream Hill.
A young man appeared to the right of me. I could not see his face, because for some reason, it was blurred out. However, all that was visible on his face were his eyes; and I distinctly remember them being gray. I remember him being a very tall man, with broad shoulders. I remember that my feelings of childhood quickly disappeared, and were suddenly replaced by feelings of devotion, like somehow I was connected with this young man. In all reality (or, unreality, because this was a dream), I felt that I was in love with this dream man.
He took my left hand, and when doing so, my balloon was released into the sky. I remember trying to jump up to try and catch it, but my dream man grabbed my hand to restrain me, and whispered in a very ghost like way, "You need to learn to let go."
His hand felt warm against mine, and I remember it being very hard to breathe. I wanted so badly to look up to his face, but for some reason, my dream did not permit me to look.
Instead, dream man took my left hand and led me up the Dream Road. The cars passed by us, each of them playing different music as they rode by. The sounds faded and reappeared like waves lapping upon the shore. I could even feel the wind, much like the wind on this night, touching my freckled skin like ripples. I felt happy because dream man was warm, and he felt safe.
Suddenly, I was wearing a white linen dress. Dream man took me in his arms.
Daddy was at the top of the hill. He kept on walking and disappeared.
Dream man looked down at me, and I finally saw his eyes. But I didn't just see gray, I saw gold.
Second Scenario:In my second dream, I wore a short black dress, burgandy heels, and large black hat. My eyes resembled cat eyes. In my dream, I carried a cigarette between my index and middle finger, but it wasn't lit. My heels clicked along the sidewalk as I walked down a dark alley.
In this dream, I had just been jilted at the altar. I could feel a sense of anxiety in my dream, and I was very uneasy and tense. I clenched a handrail as I walked down a flight of poorly lit stairs in an elevator shaft. My nails scratched the rail all the way down.
I sat down on a wooden stool in the middle of a dimly lit room, which had seemed to appear out of nowhere. There was a lamp hanging directly above the stool, which shone light on a guitar laying on the floor. I sat down and picked up the guitar and began to play, which was interesting because all of the strings were broken. But, as I strummed the imaginary strings, beautiful melodies danced out, which seemed to make the room brighter.
I set the guitar down and walked out of the room, where I was led to a fire escape which hung about 200 feet above the ground. I could hear the water dripping down the flood rafts into the drains. I looked down to my left hand, where a ring was placed on my ring finger. I removed it, and threw it over the edge. Then, I slid all the way down the ladder to the ground below.
I kept walking for what seemed like forever, until I came upon the Dream Hill. For the first time, everything was sunny and bright, and it seemed overbearing. But I held on, and stared straight into the Dream Hill, because it was too beautiful to take my eyes off of it.
I fell to my knees and began to weep, and suddenly, a hand fell upon the back of my head. I opened my eyes, and I was once again wearing my overalls and mary janes. I looked up, and my Dad was looking down on me.
"Why are you crying?" He asked.
"I don't know," I told him. "I feel lonely, and very dark inside, though."
He smiled back at me, and laughed (which I can still hear in my head). "Oh Bumbles. You're always worried. Always stressed. Always filled with anxiety."
"I know." I sighed.
"Don't you know who to put your cares upon?" Daddy replied.
I looked up to respond to him, but when I looked up, he disappeared. I got up onto my feet very quickly, desperate to find him. I ran up the zig-zag hill, screaming for him to come back.
But he never did come back.
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I think that it is time for me to go.
Go somewhere.
I need to do something with my life.
The Lord has given me so many signs, and I keep praying and praying to ask him to show me where, why, and how.
Maybe it is time to follow.
