I'm a survivor

I used to have lots and lots of dreams in my sleep and I kind of enjoyed them. I know some people might find them to be a bit tiring and disturbing to their restful sleep, but I look forward to my dreams.

I love my dreams, or maybe the ones I used to have, to be more accurate.

You see, in those dreams, I was a survivor.

I survived an alien attack with zombies who took away my family and friends -- think X-Files, Men in Black and Aliens 1 thru 4 combined (I don't exactly remember how everything turned out but I know I survived the whole ordeal). I survived a full-blown gangster attack (think AK47s in early 90s with Hongkong action movie setup) and actually managed to successfully get my revenge in a counter-attack I skillfully planned. I survived a blood-sucking dracula who had taken in the form of a nasty teacher in secondary school and who basically sucked the life out of everyone in school. I managed to miraculously acquire the skill to basically defy grafity and fly in some of these dreams(or float in zero-gravity-like style, depending on which dream we're talking about). I also survived some seriously major falls. Suicidal jump from an 8-storey high building, deathly falls from mile-high cliffs .... you name it and I had it.

Now, I can't say that I was a brave heroine who faced all the obstacles and adventures in my dreams with no fear whatsoever. In most of them, such as the dracula dream and the falling dreams, I woke up sweating and out of breath with knees so weak that I would have fallen flat on the floor if I had tried to get out of bed but who cares? I was a survivor.

I love those dreams because I got to see some people in them. I got to see my idols and even talked to them. I got to see people that I hadn't seen for a while. They were mostly old friends, though I got to see my grampa once. It was quite a while after he passed away. It was one of those family gatherings we used to have more when he was still around. He was sitting on a chair in a corner, watching my little cousins play and fight like any ordinary day. I saw him smile and I remember feeling he was smiling at me. He didn't seem to be in pain or troubled in any way. No sign of the pain he was in that I heard so much about. No sign of the awful cancer that he had. It was just him, the sweet grampa that he was. Well, maybe not that sweet. But he's one of the two best grampas in the whole world for sure. Gosh, I miss him so much. I miss his toothless smile and the way he chewed his favorite food -- beef (God knows how). I miss his plain white t-shirt with holes from the ashes of his cigarette (He used to get a packet of tobacco and roll his own cigarette. Yeah.... filtered stuff's for wimps I guess :P). I miss his glasses that were so thick I could only see his eyes in the morning right after he got up from a good night's sleep. I miss the late night suppers we used to have whenever both of us were at my aunt's place in Singapore (Roti prata has never been the same). I miss him and it's nice seeing him though only in my dream.

I wish I had more dreams nowadays. Or maybe I should say I wish I could remember the few that I have nowadays on some rare occasions. Most of the ones I have nowadays are not as fun as the ones I used to have, though. Mostly just some random events. None of those full-blown productions that I used to have back in the days, ... back in my youth.

It's almost 4 am now. I think I'll give it another shot. Who knows, I might meet my prince charming tonight. I believe I will definitely survive that dream, too.

Mr. Sandman,
bring me a dream
Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
Give him two lips like roses and clover
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over
- Mr. Sandman-