Dream

This morning, I dreamt odd dreams. I dreamt of saving a kingdom in what seemed to be Mongolia, but with great, monolithic structures, or at least exploring it. I was somehow able to tell, after the dream moved to a wet, green, forested area in which there was a single, wooden shack, that a baby had one of his teeth forcibly removed and replaced with a gold coin by a Buddhist monk of some sort. He had taken the tooth for his own, and I used some kind of power to remove it from his mouth without touching him and remove the coin from the babies mouth, but I did not replace the tooth. I also remember a long wall, like the Great Wall of China, but stretching far across the desert.

The next part of the dream, I seemed to be walking through the main chamber of a huge palace, the gray light of morning piercing through the windows in the uppermost sections of the walls. It had Arabic influences in the general style and aesthetics. As I was walking, I either heard or started singing a song with no lyrics, but it was mournful, and the odd part was I felt I had sung it before. Looking around, I saw ladies in waiting, all clothed in white silk, their faces covered all but for their eyes. To the right, as I passed a group of ladies in waiting sitting near a woman whose silk shone like the sun, I heard a voice that seemed to identify me walking through. It was a motherly voice, but it commanded respect. I did not stop, I could only turn to look at her, covered similarly in white silk, but hers was embroidered with gold and jewels. I continued to walk across the palace to the door on the other side, opened it, and ran to a courtyard full of tigers. The singing continued and grew louder, more somber than it had been in the building. I ran to one of the tigers, a huge creature that lumbered towards me. I grabbed its furry face with two hands in a loving embrace and began to cry, and it cried with me. The last part I can remember is the camera moving out to a view of me, who was apparently a female in a very Arabic-style outfit, weeping with my forehead against the tiger's forehead in a garden surrounded by other tigers and white petals falling from the sky.

This was not a recurring dream.

No more Neverneverland

Gotta grow up sometime.

This is the year I start being independent instead of being so dependent on other people. It's my duty to stay ahead of the curve, to keep track of things and make sure I'm doing what needs to be done before what doesn't need to be done.

What needs to be done? Plenty.

Schoolwork, again, takes precedence.
Work-work will be three full days a week.
Home-time, whether it be cleaning or just being at home, is up there on the list.
E hana ana i na mea Hawai'i ma ka mana limalima.

I got stuff to do, and very little stopping me from doing it.

My schedule is hectic, but whose isn't these days? Heck, half the day, my house is empty, save the dog. Best/Worst part about it is that the family is getting used to the idea of schedules being so out of whack that we barely get home in time to eat dinner before 8. It's great.

Here's the thing about this mindset I need to adopt/adapt to my daily routine: nothing about it suggest that I am never in control of my own situation.

This is something I still struggle with on a weekly basis. Do I own my life, or does my life own me? I don't like to think that everything else is telling me where to go, how to dress and what to be, but it creeps into my mind occasionally. This is the year that no one tells me who I need to be. It has to be.

Part of that is not letting anyone else talk for me, not letting anyone else be accountable for my actions but me.

I've been watching movies recently, Black Hawk Down, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, even the horribly-told Dragon Wars, and I can't help but wonder how the plot and characters in my life are going to be portrayed later on. It's an interesting feeling.