A Beautiful Nightmare

Posted: February 20, 2013 in Journals
Tags: , , ,


I had a strange dream the other night. It was a nightmare, but I’d give anything to experience it all back.

I dream that I was with an acquaintance visiting his friend’s home and say some ‘get well soon’. He told me his friends not feeling well for some time so I obliged to go with him. The next thing I remember we were walking inside an old and unpainted building that looks like a cheap apartment block. It was dark and I felt uncomfortable walking in there, it was certainly not the kind of house I had in mind of a person he described ‘wonderful and beautiful’. What am I doing here? I think we climbed up to the third of the building which felt now like an old ancestral house made a century ago.

Then the next thing I remember, my friend’s talking to someone probably the mother of his friend in the dining table. I was in the sala keeping myself occupied or distracted. What am I doing here? Then suddenly…I felt her. It was undeniably her. I never saw her face nor heard her voice but there she was on flesh and bones walking gracefully on the corner of my eyes, like a tinker bell floating above the floor. She was wearing a red dress in all its vivid glory against sharp contrast in that Sin City movie-like dream. She was wearing red. And she felt so beautiful and happy. And alive.

It was weird, but somehow dreams have an even stranger way of playing with our emotions. It has some rules in which we tend to have a character to play. In that dream, I was just a friend of a guy visiting an old pal. I was a stranger to the rest of the cast, including the Lady in Red. And we had dinner in the table with my friend, the Lady in Red, and her relatives probably her parents. Everyone seems happy and talking but I couldn’t hear a conversation only fluid motion of people and a steady presence of person of interest with her eyes’ presence pointed at me. And I couldn’t even manage to return the glance as if I was fucking shy or caught red-handed of a lie.

Then I heard Tal Bachman singing “She’s So High”, it kept getting louder and louder. And suddenly I woke up with a heart beating heavily as if chased by dogs. It was my alarm clock telling me to wake to have my daily 5am morning run. But it was raining outside, so I killed the sound and get back to my bed. And she was no longer there.


It was the first time I dreamt of her since she left. There’s just so many things I want to say, feelings I was never able to prove and smiles I was never able share to her. I don’t know what that dream is all about or whether what it meant. Maybe I just want to feel her again, or even see her face and talk to her. Maybe she finally visited me.

Photo credit: “Red” by  Tuyet Dinh Sinh Vat.

  1. I’ve had that exact feeling before. I don’t know if my Her was the same to me as your Her is to you, but it was both a great comfort and horrible torment to me. I like to think it was a real visit, that she wanted to say hello and let me know it was alright. I just wish she had still been there when I went back to sleep…

    Thanks for sharing.

    • Lapiskamay says:

      HI sir Michael thanks for dropping by! I have a gut feeling my Her is as important to yours. 🙂
      Frightening and sad, but it was good to know that she was in my dream. yeah I love to think of it as a real and playful visit from her like what you’ve said to say hello and let me know it’s all fine.
      May all is well with you Sir.

  2. zezil says:

    “f*cking shy”—somehow, this said a lot.

    I like this post very much.

    (Hope she visits you again.)

  3. potsquared says:

    Ang hirap ng ganyang panaginip… Kahit gusto mong ulitin, hindi na maulit…

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