2004-10-31
Ahh The First Day Of School Jitters Begin...
hearing: Mr Grieves - The Pixies
reading: The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien
feeling: uninspired and bland
The advent of school is still three months away but the pre-school anxiousness dreams have already arrived.
Now of course I've had far too many school dreams, when school was looming nowhere in sight; but a lot of those focused solely on meeting up with the old friends I never got to say goodbye to, and the altogether awkwardness of being thrust back into a level of school which has already been passed through, once you are far too old to go back.
Last night, I had a dream which was clearly in anticipation of the approach of school, and not the slightly more comfortable embarrassment fabricatitions. I've had school on my mind a lot lately because it's going to be time to register soon, and it bothers me terribly. School has never bothered me like this heretofore. I've looked forward to school, I've enjoyed it, I've jumped to go back, but this is very different. I am nervous and grieved that I must return to the public education system. My anxiety is permeating my mind and especially tormenting my subconscious. And this leads to the dreams, which disclose some very interesting revelations on my mental attitude. There is nothing in the dreams which I wasn't vaugely aware of, this is not some elaborate mystery to be solved, this is just how I can best explain my feelings. Through the tale of my silly dreams.
The first thing I recall is the size. It was more of a shopping mall than a college at first glance. It wasn't at all the campus I've been to several times. There was an enormous span of escalators reaching as far as you could see to the left or right. I, with a friend (I think it was the girl who moved to Washington at the beginning of our eighth grade school year), rode the escalators to the second floor. The ceilings stretched high above us, tiled with skylights, and the floor was gleaming marble beneath us.
But then my vision began to swarm and a lot of bizarre, unrelatable things began to happen. As big as the school seemed, it was at the same time, smaller than the elementry school I attended and there were no bathrooms. There was a catastrophic situation with chamber pots, but that is altogether too revolting to repeat and relate.
I remember that there were boys, and there was a shiny silver convertible, and there were jocks in red and white letterman jackets. My friend faded out of the dream quickly, and I found myself whisked away to a college orientation class. This class was for the dumb, retarded homeschool students who had merely recieved a GED. There were evidently a lot of extremely complex methods we were expected to know. College professors were going to explain to us nothing, it was common knowledge which we were supposed to understand. If they asked us to write a "(insert strange descriptive word here)" assignment, then we were to do it and know how to do it. I had not learned any of these things and was completely unprepared. I was one of the dumb students and I was taking this class for preparation.
I remember the reiteration at the end, that the whole point of college was to become an Adult. We were freshman. We were still naive children whom no one respected. In fact, if I remember correctly, I had been transported back to the awkward age of thirteen. College seniors began to pass through the halls at that moment and they were noticeably older than us. They turned up their nose in a haughty manner and didn't bother to acknowledge our existence. The teacher gestured to them. "See? They're almost done with college now. They are almost, finally official adults. That's what this is all about, finally growing up. When you're done with college, you're finally going to be adults."
We were dismissed then and everything gets blurry for me. As time passed, my desire to use a bathroom increased, until I finally just woke up and ended the torture.
But I didn't leave my subconscious anxiety behind. As ridiculous as my dream was, it was shivery and ominous, and my disquiet only escalated.
Where's my euphoria now?
Is this the part where I talk about Halloween? What have I to say? I will sit at the door, probably outfitted as Mina Harker from Dracula, handing out candy to children. Or perhaps my mother will dominate that job and I'll have nothing to do but poke around the house.
If I am confined to that fate, I'll try to take a few strange pictures of Megan as Mina. Possibly with my sister, whom is masquerading as a somewhat ethereal manifestation of Water.
Halloween just isn't the same after about twelve. Actually, all the holidays start to lose sheen after about twelve. It was so for me at least. It all just becomes monotonous and uneventful.
Oh how I hate both. I need more resources for stirring up trouble on holidays and birthdays. Any time in fact, just to make life a bit more bearable.