"We can't all have the same T-shirt," says Lee. Naomi Laughs.
"What about scarves?" asks Paul. I look in the mirror at my scarf. I want to tell Paul that I, too, have a scarf, but the words won't come out. My mouth is preoccupied with pushing my top front teeth against the bottom ones. My teeth are becoming looser, but all I can do is keep grinding them, almost checking to see how loose they have become. Very loose, it appears. They've started falling out and are filling my mouth and however much I spit them out, my mouth remains full. I want to say to my friends that I need to go to a dentist, but I can't speak. Actually, the whole ordeal is causing some embarrassment.
I go through the hole in the wall into my garden, where my treehouse is. There are wooden slats nailed into the tree to help me get up there, but I keep slipping when I try.
My dad's mowing the lawn.
My dad's mowing the lawn?
Wait a sec. . . My dad has a patio; no mowing required. And I'm dreaming, aren't I. Ah, that's good, I don't have to worry about my teeth. I decide to fly up to my treehouse, where I find that book! There I was looking for it in libraries like an idiot, when all the while it was in a tree, in my subconscious. Or had I found it in a library? I can't seem to locate the memory.
I look out but can't seem to see very far. The clouds are smothering the landscape. I float out of my tree, over the fence and into the road. A car comes towards me at some pace, but I mock it as it approaches - I am dreaming and I will merely rise above you before we collide. It's getting kind of close actually. I start to float above the ground but unfortunately land on the car bonnet and roll up it towards the windscreen.
Bollocks! That wasn't supposed to happen. I dismount the car and push the driver out. Ah, lucid car theft. I drive off and pull up near a young lady by the side of the road and get out.
I'm awake. Reality seems far too real, it lacks the pleasant sheen that dreams possess. I am once again bound by physical laws and it's disappointing. It's mid-afternoon, the house is cold and my scarf is in the other room. My newfound book lies to the right of my pillow. I should start reading this book, I think. Later. There's plenty of time.
Instead, I try to recollect my dream. Something about a garden? And stealing a car? Oh yeah, teeth falling out; nothing unusual about that. But noticing that my dad was mowing the lawn in a garden that hadn't belonged to us for ten years had allowed me to realise that I was dreaming, before that I had just accepted that strange reality. I start to wonder whether I have actually woken up. . . .
Well, no effortless floating towards the ceiling is occurring, I think I'm awake. But I guess the difference between life and a dream, apart from those damn physical laws, is fairly minimal; they're both finite, arguably with no personal consequences, and nothing really means anything, I'd like to think, does it? It's a comforting thought, not a scary one, I reckon. My phone buzzes and Paul, reliable fellow that he is, has invited me to another 'end of day pint'. Of course, I seize the opportunity, happy in my new found knowledge that we're all pointless. This beer will taste extra sweet.
And it's something which I intend to bear in mind when dealing with the trivial difficulties of day to day life. At the end of the day, Lee, you're a dead man; so don't run around in a mess worrying about smiling at everyone or what to do with your hands, or why you haven't been given a flyer. Of all the insignificant bullshit we have to deal with, those things are the most absurd of the lot. And yet, my time is spent contemplating those very things. Scarf in place, I leave the house, a new air of positivity surrounding me.
I decide to take things as they come, and be happy with the little things; the book that I acquired with expert skill, the beer I'm about to have, the roads that I cross with supreme prowess. And at this moment, while incidentally tackling a particularly busy road, I realise that it's the same for everyone. Some tasks are big and some are small, and the size is subjective, but everyone is searching for something; be it a book, or love, or for my keys, or for the answers. What happens during that search is called life, and I've had it all along; it never needed finding.
This epiphany releases the ton of bricks resting on my shoulders, and I express this relief with a sigh, a good sigh. No longer will I be bound to my personality; it doesn't exist, it is created by other people. I am not Lee - inept student, I am Lee - insignificant person. Just like the others. I'm wiping the slate clean and preparing myself for a new day, where I forevermore hold my head high. I have almost convinced myself. The mind doesn't hear the word 'don't'!
I'm in the park, unsure whether I am successfully kidding myself or not. It's half past four and the sun is leaving. A squirrel runs up a nearby tree and I glance to the left at a point on the path where I saw Chloe one day as I was returning from hospital. I succumb to a wave of adrenaline.
---
over
No comments:
Post a Comment