I had a dream….
A bad, bad dream that literally took the wind outta me the other night.
I was in some major city on a flyover, looking down at the flow of cars beneath me, a slew of roads, functioning like arteries carrying vehicles to their various destinations.
Then a familiar car belonging to someone I am related to, suddenly came into view.But just as suddenly, the car was careening out of control. It was zig-zagging its way between all the other cars, skimming right past some while crashing into others and yet it was skidding towards the edge of the highway.
I screamed but like any dream, somehow your voice never escapes. Your helplessly put on mute as you witness the horrific unfolding of events that take place.
The car came to an abrupt stop as I miraculously could now move and jump down the flyover (yes, I transformed into Batwoman LOL!) and ran to the car.
Inside, the mangled body of the relative and a passenger, bloody and dead, stared right back at me.
I wake up, horrified and turned by bedside lamp on.
It was a dream but a damn realistic one and too close to home with the relative being the unfortunate victim.
Anyway, the next day I went to work still thinking about the dream, disturbed by what it could possibly mean, so I logged on to the Net and found one good explanation on it.
Apparently the car was a symbol of my life and that by watching it spinning out of control, I remained helpless to the turn of events that was taking place in front of me. My muted screams were a sign that I wasn’t taking enough control of it.
Then later that evening, while attending a friend’s partner’s art installation exhibit, I mentioned the dream to her and was told that I was indeed, quite a softie and that I allow people to manipulate me until I’m pushed to a corner and then growl everyone else down instead of taking things in control from the beginning.
She’s god-awfully right.
And I thought I was already aggressive?
However, apparently not so.
I find myself living the life of an empty diary. You know the ones where it hasn’t been filled up yet and all the pages look the same?
Yes, rather depressing but true. My life has become a comfort zone and it’s got a nice warm security blanket that’s draining me of my excitement for life.
I mean in my head, I THINK I am taking control, but really I’m not. I’m letting familiar sights and sounds engulf me in it’s comfort. And when there’s comfort, routine sets in. And when routine sets in, you live your life with eyes closed.
So what does one do to regain autonomy?
Do I remain firm? And what is firm without stepping on people’s toes too much?
For me, I follow my gut right down to the people I occasionally have fights with because I feel something’s not right but overly these days, I’m having a real anger/frustration problem (not very feminine, I might add) and I’m ready to burst out at anyone who invades my space. And yet, again, it’s my guts telling me to do that.
Because a lot of people (especially here in Asia) just DON’T GET IT. They don’t respect people’s space – their 10-foot Berlin Walls, that is.
This is a dog-eat-dog continent, lemme tell ya and whatever romantic thought you had about us Asians via your ying-yang, peaceful Confucious philosophies is out the window along with your tasty bowl of noodle soup. Over in Asia, it’s the bottom line baby. The hawks of capitalism and ultra-profit soul-munching Medusas have landed. And Asia has rolled out the red-carpet in gleeful greediness.
But that’s for another post on another day.
I’m here to question my independence and I know no better way to do that than by sharing this short film I watched recently (another sign perhaps for me?) that is very relevant to the topic. It’s a short film called ‘Autonomy’.
It’s really perhaps, not only a story of my life, but quite a lot of yours.