Saturday, July 17, 2010

A Dream-on Experience

Now I'm about to relate a dream, it is quite strange, to me anyway, how it worked out, because it was heading to some kind of nightmarish ending. Please, don't try to interpret, since I do not believe that dreams can foretell the future. Rather, I believe that dreams are imaginations of my fears, and my stresses. My dreams simply replay what I may have been thinking, sub-consciously. Here it is:

My sister and I were driving in our old Peugeot, we had just came from Hilo in Woodbrook on French Street. My sister was reading the newspapers on something on Halle Berry. As we neared Brooklyn Bar on Roberts Street, we saw a new restaurant or bakery opened next door, it had a large window, and inside was in a yellow and cream interior.

The employees wore purplish maroon overalls with caps, and a logo (I did not see this clearly). Three women and a tall young man were handling customer service, so I checked out the menus, and then returned to the car to tell my sister the price of the food and stuff.

As I stepped outside, I noticed the guys from the bar running out, I ran towards them and followed their gaze. On Roberts street, some men were handling a young woman with wild hair, blood was running down her mouth and she was trying to attack her handlers, she was wearing a long, brown dirty dress, and she looked like Halle Berry, but in a zombie form with dead eyes and everything. She was growling. On Roberts street at the corner diagonally opposite Brooklyn Bar, there is a concrete enclosed garbage dump. The Halle Berry zombie was tied to this dump, as the guys did not know what to do with her.

Soon after some women passed in their dark grey Benz, they looked like they were from the upper-middle class section of our culture. They were heading in the direction of Brooklyn Bar. "Look! Its Halle Berry!" the driver said. "She lives next door to me! What have these people done to her?" she continued. She parked her car, came out and went up to the chained up zombie. Next thing I know, she and her friends, started walking with the zombie and talking to it. The guys at the bar started running to them shouting, the ladies paid them no mind, until the zombie started to attack them.

By this time, my sister was out of the car and into the restaurant buying food. I ran to the car, and then into the restaurant, by this time ladies who were attacked started attacking other people. I ran into the restaurant, and shouted, "We have to go! Leave that lets go!" "Go where? I am getting the food." she replied. I looked outside the window and there was chaos. Then the door burst open, and there was the HB zombie blocking our exit. She lounged at my sister, and I pushed my sister away, and reached for the zombie. My sister ran into the car and brought out the chain-saw, "Look Lisa! Take it! Take it." "Help me!" I screamed. (It is interesting to note that at this point, I was physically feeling the zombie's strength in my dream, but I was not actually fighting it, I was watching the zombie fight myself in my dream). I pushed the zombie with my leg, and it fell into some chairs and tables at the corner of the restaurant. I grabbed the chain-saw, started it, and went for the zombie, again, we started fighting. (This time it was me myself fighting the zombie). The chain-saw, was not hurting the zombie, so I threw it along with the zombie over the food buffet display by the cashier, and bolted for the door. "Start the car!" I yelled to my sister. She started climbing into the driver's seat, I pushed her back, and started the car. Just then we saw a familiar face in the rear-view mirror. It was mommy, and despite the carnage around her, she was smiling and laughing walking towards us, in her hands were some large shopping bags. We moved the clothes in the back seat, let her in, and drove away.

What is strange about this dream is that, we got away, otherwise, we would've been hurt. In my dreams in the past, I used to be the only survivor, sometimes one of the victims. This dream, however, comes at a time that I desperately needed a job, as my financial position is almost nearing a disaster. I could not account for it. I went through hell this week, stressing over interviews, and thinking about whether I have made some good decisions, and what I would've done better. In my blackest days in the years past, I hardly ever survived any of my dreams. Sometimes, I got up screaming. That Thursday night dream, turned out to be one of the better ones. I am sorry to have dream about Halle Berry in such a dastardly manner, as she is one of my favorite actresses.

Its a long post, but read like a movie.

Monday, July 5, 2010

The F-Bomb and the Receiver of it

It is not uncommon to hear the F-Bomb these days. Television, movies, your boss, your uncle, people on the street, music, three-year olds (the proof is in Youtube), and even your mom say it. So, technically it is safe to say it is a common adjective. Although it is a very rotten one.

The F-Bomb, is used to make you feel the force of what a person is saying. And that I don't really have to explain, I will try to explain, only if you were born in another galaxy, and that galaxy has never ever been occupied or heard of by humans.

I have been a guilty user of that word once, and I tell you from personal experience, it is the most uncreative, stupid, and inflated-ego word. It gives you a sense of false pride, and on saying it, you say to yourself, "That'll show them." Until the other person returns the same F-Bomb sentiment. Only then you realize, you have been checkmated with a fellow pawn on a dirty linguistic chessboard game.

People seem to delight when legends use the word. If someone 'famous' says it, it takes on a sacred monument glow. If a homeless person uses it, it looks and smells like three day-old unfrozen fish. If a boss uses it, he is feared, but his respect loses value, like a two-week old dead rotten elephant. If Barbie use it...mothers would protest. I wonder, does the F-Bomb hold any significance today, than it would have done in the 1960's? The similarity is, that it still remains a very offensive word, the difference is, that today in the 21st century, you can market a perfume with that word on it, and it would sell, inoffensively.

When receiver of the F-Bomb internalizes the word, it shocks them, particularly when it is not in their personal vocabulary. There is a feeling of shock, headache, heart palpitations, and all round stress. It is even worse when someone who is supposed to love you, say it to you, like your husband, wife, siblings and parents, and worst of all your children.

The Rotten-Fish word is offensive, vulgar, uncreative, unimaginative and common. It does not help your situation in anyway (especially on job interviews). Lately, I have noticed a growing number of people who are opposed to the constant use of these types of words, and look forward to the day, that clean English language (or any language for that matter) could be the highest form of speaking.

Me, I have been very successful avoiding the use of that word since that black day. And yes, I have gotten very angry and stressed, and in intense situations, I walk away, count to ten, and move on. I am sure most of you have witnessed two people cussing, it is most embarrassing, and lack of good manners.