The summer nap.

I hate it when dreams feel so real then you realize the moment you wake up that they have never happened.

After getting so tired from Geometry, I finally gave in and got a good nap.

And in turn, got an interesting dream too.

I was sent to this highschool version of my old grade school, TLT, and it was absolutely fantastic. Instead of a building, it was a subdivision, and all the dorms were townhouses. Beautiful, pastel-colored townhouses of white shingled-roof tops, cream gates, woodwork that only a genius could design.

I was literally walking through a dreamland. It was all perfect, and the sun shone so wonderfully and the grass was the perfect shade of green, and the breeze was so cool and sweet.

It was as if Hawaii and the Victorian era pro-created into some nexus-like landscape.

Apparently, there was some competition where we were assigned into little groups to create diagrams and sculptures of buildings and our own designs for monuments. Fun, of course.

In my dorm room (or dormhouse, which I loved), I worked with my dear friends Matt, Erika, Mishka, Mark, Netta, Rina, and Dia (so maybe it's not a small group after all), laughing and having fun and beveling wood and pasting stuff and drawing out diagrams of what our little sculpture would look like.

One particular thing Mishka mentioned led to quite a big buzz.

He mentioned the most popular girl in school (who was mean to all of us, unfortunately) was holding her birthday party at her big, fancy manse-like dorm. And apparently she was turning 16.

Didn't bother us much. We would never go anyways.

Then Mishka mentioned, "She hired Lee Dewyze to perform at her birthday."

To me, that was as if the whole universe collapsed down to my head.

And in the dream Lee became what I wanted him to be--American Idol of 2010, hitting platinum on the charts, Grammy Awards, popularity soaring beyond skies, yet ego not even daring to level up.

I stayed silent and pitifully brushed varnish back and forth on the piece of balsa wood I had in my hand.

As I did so, the sky darkened and Rina, Erk, Netta, and Dia left to return to their respective dormhouses, while Mark, Matt, and Mishka looked at me with crossed arms.

"Are you going to let a woman like that get in the way of you and Lee Dewyze?" Matt suddenly shook me.

"What can I do? I can't waltz in there! They have invitations, reservations, dress codes, identifications, strict perfume detectors, heavily-armed guards obviously being paid with heavy checks--it's like the prepubescent Buckingham Palace there!"

...well, not stated like that, but similar.

Then suddenly somebody barged in.

We were on the second floor, so with precaution we went downstairs. I brought a bat with me just in case violence needed to be commended in this case. And Cherry Binaca.

I found the shadow of the unwanted intruder and was about to strike until either Mark or Mishka stopped me and said, "Hold your fire! He's no burglar in pursuit of taking all your food! He's Lee Dewyze!"

Lee Dewyze? What was he doing here instead of at the party being catered on his every whim to by the pretentious popular girl whose first name I cannot recall?

I dropped the bat and said, "Hi... Lee."

Mark, Matt and Mishka cleared their throats simultaneously and decided to leave at that point, going past Lee and saying, "She totally likes you, man," yada, yada, could we skip that little minutiae of events?

And so I mustered courage. Attempted to talk to Lee, told him I loved watching him on American Idol, told him I'd pray every single night that he'd win, and I was so proud of him and happy that he won. He thanked me for sticking by him, and he was glad too that he won, because he won for us as fans,

technically winning for me too, as I was a fan of his also.

I remember asking if I could touch his face. Which I did.

It felt so right and so true. He chuckled a little as I did so, and on impulse, I did something absolutely stupid.

I actually leaned in to kiss his forehead, and then slapped myself for doing so. I begged forgiveness, repeatedly, yet he only laughed.

And returned the favor in the same way.

Suddenly the scene cut to me sitting on a round table and staring into my bowl of cereal. A bowl of cereal never looked so stupid, or so ugly. It was normal-looking, actually.

It was a case wherein the observer affected the experiment--what made the cereal look ugly was how I saw it, as a bowl of cereal that was meaningless, that was real, that was unimportant.

And I punched myself for not asking even a token of remembrance from Lee, for not doing more than I could just do.

So after a miserable breakfast, I went out of my dormhouse and bicycled on the way to school, which looked like The White House having a cafeteria that looked like the Lincoln Memorial. Stunning, really.

I rode past other groups who were setting up their projects, and while I was riding off, Matt and Mark tried to chase me and they yelled out, "Ally! Ally! You're being called to the nurse's office!"

Nurse's office? What?

"Why?"

And then I bumped into a tree.

In the nurse's office (which looked like Gotham Hospital), the plump, red-haired school nurse slapped my jaw a little and snuck a grape lolly in my mouth. I caressed my broken arm and asked, "You knew I was about to hit a tree?"

She laughed, and said, "No, I didn't. I needed to call you because someone left this for you during the party last night."

And it was something absolutely beautiful. Sure, not impressive at first sight, but it was what I've been dreaming of since the music died.

It was a package. Clear, transparent, plastic package, containing a red note inside, a nameless CD, and a little notebook.

I took out the red letter, which was smartly written with silver ink, and I found out it was for me.

But my name was spelled wrong. It was spelled as "Al-Lee," not--

...Oh.

And it was also apparently noted, "Signed with love: Lee Dewyze."

I didn't want to lose that letter. It was precious and it glowed so wonderfully, the sun seemed to have lost its luster.

I thanked the nurse and walked out of the hospital humming,

It maybe raining
But there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you
Before it's too late.


Yet suddenly, I came across a couple of bullies.

They had razors with them, and I ignored them, yet their leader (I'm guessing it was the popular girl) signaled that they all fling their razors at me.

Luckily I didn't get hurt and I tried to dodge their razors. I was cut of breath from defying them, and I was left breathless when it was all done, so I collapsed.

I couldn't do a thing, and the plastic package was still in my arms.

Their leader came to me and said, "You prepared to die?"

I said, "If that's what makes you shine, if that's what makes you happy, sure. Just get what you want, and leave me alone."

Then all went black.

It cut to this scene where I was back at my dining table, looking through my things. I wasn't hurt, nor was I killed, of course. But I was worried about my letter the most.

I had the plastic package, I had the CD, where was the letter?

And when I thought I'd just found it, I woke up.

--

At times, I wish I could just forget the world and drift off into my dreams, cherishing them and making the prosperous, happy life in my dreams last forever.

Yet really, it doesn't matter at all in life, getting what I want.

It shouldn't matter at all, anything I desire shouldn't matter.

And whatever is taken as a token of aspiration, in the end, may only be reduced to... whatever works.

Though it never hurts to dream. Actually, dreaming contributes in some way.

Life is more understood and better appreciated through dreams. Even nightmares give off the same effect.

Well really, whatever works.