I was going to wake up when my alarm went off at 8.47am this morning – but somewhere along the plan of decision and action, I guess sleep intercepted. It was a nice two hours of over-sleeping, though.
Especially when it had spontaneity and traveling. Almost fantastical, a dream so limitless and full of imagination, it encapsulates liberation unattainable in reality.
Literally just after getting out of bed, my parents surprised us with tickets for 4 for a ride – they hadn’t got me one; but I just hopped on anyway, grabbing my phone and a credit card just before boarding. The next moment, we were flying over to New Zealand in a chopper; my teeth, still not brushed, my hair, a mess.
We were greeted by the melodious harmony of swoosh sounds from the golden straw field that extended far out into the horizon to join with the mesmerising blue skies. Of gold that glitter in shades of yellow, brown and orange, the path before us was split into two, with a mill house and farm on the left, whilst the right deviated away from the golden field. Breathless and dizzy from the beautiful view and relaxed breeze, the milling house seemed almost as if it were beckoning us to enter, welcoming our arrival. Instead, having seen another family trail off the latter option, we followed suit. Stuck with a phone without roaming, I was trying hard to remember my way. What added to the dream being so real was that I was WhatsApp-ing Elizabeth and Ong Yi before hopping on the chopper – discussing about the year end trip to New Zealand: but I was there, in all surreality! So I decided to send them a snap on Snapchat before catching up with the rest, who were, by now, almost floating through the straw field and out of sight. That would be my last contact with technology for the next few hours. Wandering around by foot, the terrain around us progressively introduced different landforms and scenery, with the straw field in a great distance behind us now. Our first stop, after cutting through some shrubbery and some hilly slopes and rocks, was the edge of a rock, coupled with a view of the waterfall on the left. The energetic sounds of water flowing so furiously set the mind instantly at ease, and I loved what I did there and then, for it felt incredibly liberating: sitting at the edge of the slope, I closed my eyes and inhale as deep as I could, so greedy to take as much fresh air as can be contained. Instead of simply viewing through the eyes, I followed the 5-7-8 breathing method to let myself absorb as much of the scenery, in its purest form. It was (almost literally) instantly uplifting – allowing myself to be swayed by the strong winds, as my hands meddled playfully with the gravel gruss and dry sand, whilst the soundtrack of the straw fields continued to loop in the background. The legs were left dangling off the edge, rhythmically moving back and forth as if they were themselves the ropes of a swing, whilst tipping my head up, excitedly greeting the sun rays with a smile as wide as the landscape before me was. Feeling so much of nature was incredibly liberating, it left me shivering in jolts of joy that no amount of words could elaborate. I didn’t want that moment to end, hoping it would last forever and ever.
But we had to move on. Our next destination was the hotel that mom and dad would put up in – extravagant as civilisation, but the apartment/flat-like buildings were the only sights to be seen, peeking through the window by their bed. As the agenda of the trip was dad’s company function which was exclusively for him and mom to attend, my siblings and I were to leave for home on the chopper before nightfall. How quick the skies were to turn dark all of a sudden though, as if rain were to befall before we departed. And so it did. But by then, my siblings and I already bade farewell to my parents. What followed next was that we were stranded in a desolate shelter somewhere between the *artificial* tropical vibes of apartments and the almost untouched natural summer landscape. Finding our way back was a tough challenge, because the straw fields seemed confusing – and again it left me dizzy. This time however, ’twas with reluctance to leave a place where nature, paradise, was so virginal. Again we spotted the children we had seen from when we first arrived, and they too, seemed to be heading back to the drop off point.
And then I had to wake up, because it was 10.48 am. The concentration gradient of feelings were too great, it might have been nice if diffusion could take place even in terms of feelings. The current state of reality was so much a stifling, confined and sucky one i would gladly abandon, whilst the nature of the dream was one so captivating, uplifting and liberating. That juxtaposition only left me dreading the day that hasn’t even started, all the more. Much as I knew it was a dream while being so caught up in it, i was desperate for something that sweet, that addictive, to continue: for this heroin-like dream to lull me away from the reality, if only awhile.
I didn’t want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that’s really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you’re so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.