Wednesday, 9 January 2013

the pink duck and the graduation party

The alarm clock started bipping at half past seven. It was still dark outside. I made it stop and turned to the other side. I was very thirsty but the glass of water I always keep at my bedside was too cold and had given me a soar throat earlier in the night. I fell asleep. I woke up again at half past nine. After almost ten hours of sleep I still could not get myself out of the warm covers. Although it is sunny the temperature is very low. My partner and our dog are still asleep. My coffee just turned cold. Winter is here for good and sleeping is awesome, especially when one has things to do, one would like to avoid.

My dreams were odd. I saw a lot of people from the past.

I was at my sister's neighborhood, on the way to my house and the night had started falling. I was moving slowly and would not make it back until it was night for good. As I was passing from old, neglected industrial buildings I saw men running and I knew they were up to no good. I turned at the first corner so as not to get in their way but my action was futile as there was another group right in front of me. I could only hope that they would not be interested in me. They were immigrants in the mind of whom we were all the enemy. They had come here hoping for improvement and they had been treated like less than human. They were right not to show pity and I was afraid of them because I did not know anything about them and could communicate nothing. I thought of running but my feet disagreed. I just walked until I got to a central spot of the city. There was police everywhere, waiting for the upheaval. I just wanted to go home. There were shops with bright yellow lights and large entrances and cars were rushing by in great speed and little order. I stopped by a young traffic-cop-lady that seamed less hostile, to ask for directions. A car full of gypsies, or another group with a much similar life-style, stopped by her as well. As the traffic cop leaned towards their window a girl came out of the car and came to me. I can't remember who started talking but she would help me get closer to home.

 I also dreamt I was staying at a place by the sea. I was going somewhere and I was alone on the street. On my left side were medium-height, white fences, reflecting the bright sunlight. On my right I remember nothing. A pink duck was walking towards me. I tried to avoid it but it seamed very convinced to come after me. I passed it and it turned and started chasing me. It came very close and tried to bite me. I grabbed it by the throat but I did not want to kill it. I kept pushing its head back and it kept going for my hands. We fell on the floor and I was loosing the battle, until a man approached us and threw something at the duck. He helped me up. It was a tall man with a long, grey beard and a hat. I had my doubts about his trustworthiness but he had saved me from the duck.

Then it was graduation week. I had to wake up early to go get my certificate of graduation. There were multiple ceremonies taking place for each graduate individually and some of them would also grab the chance and get married, too. The whole charade started very early in the morning and the dress code was official as well. I hated the whole thing. I did not want a special ceremony just for me with people staring in front of the podium. Furthermore, I continued failing to get up early enough in the morning so I was just postponing the process and I would see others graduate and get married and the whole thing sickened me. I was at home looking for something to wear when I realized I was too late again, so I decided to just go to the party and maybe book another day for my graduation. A lot of people were there. An., a woman that used to be my supervisor at a previous job, heard me saying that if they can't schedule the ceremony for a more reasonable time I would never receive my degree, and she laughed. She had big, afro hair, very fair skin and a nice, wide smile.

I went to the plaster-studio. It was dug bellow the ground level and it looked like an ice platform. It seamed to be dug directly in the rock and one could walk above it on a narrow, wooden bridge. I looked  for a familiar face but knew no one. A man was pushing a big mountain of semi-liquid plaster with his back to the side,  almost right under my feet. I asked if I could go down there and see what they were doing. I got down a small, wooden ladder. The whole place was in the dark brown of the wood and the white of the plaster. Even the people. There I saw M. and her cousin V.. I took off my black shoes and forgot about them. When I got back out I saw that I was bear-foot and asked N. and her boyfriend N. , who were also there, to ask somebody to throw my shoes back to me because there were splinters of wood on the floor and I could not walk. Instead they brought me two odd shoes to put on and go there myself. One was a cheap, girl's black shoe that was almost too small and the other a small workman's shoe, I destroyed it as I tried to put it on. By the time I got back in the studio a man was shutting down the lights. I told him I was a past graduate and that I had left my shoes down there. He was disinterested in my story and thought I was a liar but eventually allowed me to go and pick them up. I found my dog there and took her along. He had a poodle and I was afraid my dog would attack his, so I kept her close. Then I was trying to get in a house along with plenty more people and my dog, and Harley, the neighbor's dog was there too and the man with the poodle.

I must have woken up at that point.

It is so cold my finger's are freezing, but the sun is bright, so I think I will take a walk.                

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