Monday, December 20, 2010

A Dream. The Moon. You.

A handsome man in a suit hurries down a white hallway. He is wearing a white button down shirt and a tie. As he gets closer to the end of the hall, it is clear he is approaching a closet.  He begins to take off his jacket and reach for the knob. He opens the door and reaches in to grab a new jacket, but instead of a jacket swap, another door opens and he steps through, becoming another man entirely. The new man stands still on the other side of the door and lets it close behind him. I don't know either of them.

Suddenly through my door I can smell cooked noodles in the hallway - and that is no dream. The people down the hall are stoners so I bet they are making mac & cheese to fight off the munchies and wait for the lunar eclipse that's supposed to take place in a few hours. It's supposed to mean something special, the eclipse, though I can't remember what exactly, kind of like a dream.

I hate looking up the meaning of a dream. It always seems to sound like the same vague interpretation with no real answer. Like a horoscope or palm reading. Or exercising an ounce of self control. Or over-thinking something until it is no longer obvious. Or forgetting that it takes a lot of courage to go out there and radiate your essence. That whatever it is you dream, it will likely reoccur, just like a man will walk through a door, and the moon will go into total eclipse.