David – Dreams

 

I marvel at those of you guys who have never had a dream of David.

 

What? -  you talk about him incessantly…stare at his face in the computer all night long…have his voice blarring into your weakening eardrums…and you’ve never dreamt of him?   Your spirit has never transcended to his spirit while your body is doing nothing but lying down motionless in slumber?

Hm…sort of heartless and inhuman, wouldn’t you say?  

Moi – I’m a frequent David-dreamer…..well, not THAT frequent…..I mean, I do have other things and people coming into my dreams as well…….the Mid-East conflict….the evolution of monkeys….why my dog Goof is looking rather gaunt lately….rose petals falling on my head from the sky (do I deserve them?)…..does Josh prefer Eula or Jasmine…or me……..how Nadal lost in the last Finals…..yeah I dream alot.

 

Relating to you my non-David-dreams would, I guess, test your patience and have you question my relevance here.

So I’ll tell you a David-one which I had sometime late last year.   David-dreams are precious and are not allowable to be taken lightly and forever forgotten – so I have had them jotted down in my diary..or “journal” as David puts it.

Here goes:

 

-  News arrived in KL (or wherever, I don’t remember) that David was coming for a concert.   All the Archies went berserk with excitement.   It seemed like the skies turned bluer than blue, rainbows appeared everywhere, flowers bloomed and birds chirped their happy songs, dark clouds floated away and the sun and moon smiled.  

The buzz was palpable.

It was like Paradise Regained.

 

-  My Archumates and I, stricken with high fever and enveloped in a ball of molten hot energy, arrived at the concert venue.

We discovered that the seats were sold on a first-come first-served basis.   Instead of being provided with tickets or passes, we had to make a super-fast run into the auditorium and tie our personalised handkerchiefs (who uses this kind of things nowadays?) onto the chairs we chose.

 

-  So of course pandemonium broke out as we made a mad dash for the best seats.   The scenario resembled something like a game of “scrambling musical chairs” except that this performance was much more aggressive and ferocious – clamouring and climbing over the rows of seats…..screeching and screaming…..grabbing and grasping…..

It was immensely un-David-like, as our vows of David-emulation flew out of the window when it came to the crunch of claiming proximity to him.

The chaos deteriorated into a physical fight at some point.   I too was guilty.

Rafael Nadal (my favourite tennis player) walked past.   I gaped stupidly at him for a second or two and resumed fighting.

 

- Eventually the handkerchiefs were securely tied and the “seat wars” came to an end.

I settled down breathlessly with the others to wait for David’s appearance onstage.

 

- Then……..POOF!

I woke up.   

The images dissipated and the forces of my mind pulled me back to harsh reality.

No David……No Concert……No Nuthin’…….

Whaaaaaat?!

 

-  Why did that beautiful dream, so full of gritty anticipation and delightful chaos turn into a nightmare of loss and cruel emptiness…and with such abruptness at that crucial moment?

Strange dream…..

…..But perhaps not that strange.

 

-   Sigmund Freud, an Austrian neurologist and psycho-analyst (1856-1939), theorised that “wishful-thinking” was behind most dreams;

-   that dreams are a connection to the human subconscious;

-   that dreams are manifestations of our deepest desires, anxieties and repressed thoughts;

-   that dreams are easily influenced by factors in one’s life and spirit.

 

-   I would have been Mr. Freud’s model patient whose dreams are so easily psycho-analysable for their transparency and obviousness. – the perfect candidate to proving his theories right on target:

The Singpore Concert no-happening…..The MKOC no-go…..the departure on a 2-year Mission – one after another – 3 bitter pills to swallow in a matter of several weeks.

-   As for the root disease called ODD, Mr. Freud would have just just shaken his head with a grim and apologetic smile and said:  “Sorry Madam, just deal with it.”

 

-   David-dreams, as I said, are undeniably precious.   But, if tinged with disappointments and ending with emptiness and making me feel like getting a hole in the head, I look forward to the day when a “happier” reality of David’s career brings me sweeter dreams.

 

So how about you guys?

Sweet Dreams?   Bitter Dreams?

Psycho-analysable Dreams?

 

TRace

(awake….I think)