Wednesday, September 16, 2009  9:57 AM
Dreams be dreams
How did it get to mid-September so quickly is beyond me, it's like time passes doubly fast when you're working. This year has flown by like a tunnel which accelerates time, just a few months ago I was rushing my final-year-project and suddenly I'm sitting here in my Ikea-like shophouse office churning out a press release for men's beauty products. It feels rather segmented, or slightly disconnected somehow, like that was a life I left behind, only for now, but I'll somehow go back to it again. Much like an internship, but it's not. This is for real now and I'm not sure how much I like it. Perhaps it's a path of self-discovery, maybe I'm just not one of those motivated career women on top of their lives at every minute, having their work days drive them forward. No, instead I'm struggling to drag myself out of my comfort cocoon every morning, and I'm pretty much in my half-drugged daze all the way until 11am. So much for convincing myself I'm a morning person.
The only thing I think of every morning that makes me happier is the fact that working in chinatown reminds me of mong kok, and the cacophony of sounds, smells and the old man shouting into his mobile phone on the street puts me in a two-second trance of being in hong kong.
If I could see my life in an idealised glinted state, it would be a box full of a myriad of travel destinations, home parties, constant lunches and dinners with friends and loved ones, long conversations under the stars, writing my own book, styling and writing for a magazine, counselling youths, playing with children, learning to bake in an open-concept kitchen, designing shoes and swimming in the Pacific ocean. Maybe I should have thought of all these things before I succumbed to the magnetic force called peer pressure to find a job.
But I'm not unhappy, this job is not bad to be honest. I just have whimsical dreams.
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Speaking of dreams, last night's was vivid and I can't stop thinking about it even after three hours of waking up. Why did I dream of you and in that fashion? I'll never understand what happened, by this I mean, with us in reality.
Work, drool, a bespectacled friend, wrapped up in a thick blanket, the hug, the scary slide with the ninety cents entrance fee.
I never quite have nightmares or bad dreams, they occur rarely. But I always end up having dreams to the point that I wish it were a real existence. I wish I could fuse them together, and call it my own life, instead those happier ones are simply figments of my imagination.
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