18 July, 2010

You Dream You're Awake

Looking at my previous blog posts, I see that I have to talk about the dream I had last Wednesday. It’s the first time I ever saw my dad in my dream. It’s really weird. I just saw him. He sat down and cried in front of me. He never got to see me again since I left him. . . maybe he just paid me a visit to see how I’ve become. He cried. That means he’s disappointed. Does it? Why do I ask? Like don't I know the answer? Am I hoping he'd ever change?

My dad was a devout Catholic and my separation from him was also my separation from Christianity, and religion in general. Well, besides teaching me prayers and telling me Bible stories, he gave me a sense of connection to the God that I used to know and the religion that I used to wholeheartedly embrace. Now that I’ve grown to be a very ideologically-different individual, I started tracing lines that led me to becoming a person different from everyone else around me -– a person who makes his own decisions, stays true to himself, does what he wants, who thinks in a way most people don’t, who believes what he wants to believe in and holds on to it, that there are things in life we don't see now that will someday be possible. I told myself I wasn't going to use religion as an excuse to hate someone. I would appreciate people for their honesty and sincerity. I would never stop loving people, especially those who love me.

The only thing I can’t take away though from what he made of me is writing. Actually, I can’t fully attribute to him my love for writing since my mom was also a writer in her teenage years.

Maybe he hates me because of that. Maybe he hates me because I no longer write poetry. Maybe he hates me because I never got to talk to him again before he passed away. Hey, wait there, does he even hate me? Did he ever?

Does my dream even mean something?  

What if I just saw a really weird dream like I normally do and it just so happened that he was in it that one time? Symbols – dreams are symbols. If I saw my dad in my dream, then it symbolizes something. It’s not that he was actually there crying in front of me. Maybe I’m just missing him. Do I? I’m typing lots of questions in this blog post already. My life is a huge question mark. There are things in my future that I fear and things in the present I still don’t fully understand. If things in real life are hard for me to understand, then it must be 100x harder for me to understand things that happen in my unconscious mind.

Since my dad is my symbol for religion, the only person related to me who I can really associate to religion, then there must be something going on inside my head about this matter that I always try to avoid. When people ask me about my religion, I tell them I’m a Catholic who doesn’t like it. Maybe now my mind is just thirsty for faith and for spirituality… A lot of my anxiety comes from something I'm missing. A gap. A huge void I can't fill. Should I start praying again? Will praying help me? Can it save me? What good will it do if it makes me uncomfortable? Ahh, I really don’t like talking about religion.

Dreams are mysteries. How many psychologists have tried translating the language of the unconscious? It’s crazy. You can spend your entire life studying it and die without making a major breakthrough. We all dream in a way that we don’t expect. I do. I thought I would never dream of my dad when I didn’t on the first day and week of his wake. I never thought I would dream of myself in a Barney costume singing. See. We never decide on what dream we’re getting when we fall asleep. If dreams are just products of our imaginations… then they must not be something so undecipherable that we need to try so hard to translate. They might be just another train of thoughts. After all, how much of our life do we spend dreaming? Do you stop dreaming when you wake up? When do our dreams even stop?

If dreams do really mean something… if things really do happen for a reason…

Then goddammit.

kudos to the freedom of our minds.


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