If the world were ending, what would you take with you?
Last night I dreamt that the Earth was about to explode, but a friend of the family had a taxicab-shaped spaceship that could ferry my family and me away. We were to be taken care of on his home planet, but it would be a very long trip. Space was cramped, so I was only allowed one backpack and one small suitcase of stuff. Clothing was not actually my first concern.
Here's what I took:
It was all very clear to me. It's funny how consciously, some of my most prized possessions are my journals, my pictures of those I love or have loved. Remembrances. However, I was completely aware that I was in a dream, and I was content to let all those things-- the dried rosepetals, the claddagh rings, the yellowed photographs-- turn to dust and fade away.
It was almost as though if they didn't exist, those memories would dissipate-- and to me, that was so freeing that I almost welcomed it. Imagine, starting fresh, new, on some strange sterile world. No more wondering what I might have done differently, no more worrying that my choices were disastrous mistakes from which I might never recover. It made me almost happy, to be honest. It lifted a heavy weight from my chest.
If the world were ending, what would you take with you?
I woke up this morning with no voice. I expect that this will slightly improve in the coming hours, but right now, I sound pretty ghastly. I hope today passes swiftly-- things at work have been beyond tense, and if there is not a change, I may well begin looking for a new job. I'm just not being fulfilled.
Here's what I took:
-- a bottle of Aleeve
-- headphones and a bunch of music cds
-- heavy boots for walking
-- a couple of BPAL bottles
-- bottled water and boxed snacks
-- a copy of Waking the Moon
-- a copy of my 1930's The Complete Works of Wilde
-- a copy of De Profundis, which was not included in the above volume
-- a copy of Dune
-- a few YA novels for light reading
-- a mostly-blank book and a pen
-- my favorite Urban Decay palette and a tube of Chapstik
-- a sweater, a pair of jeans, a change of underclothes, two teeshirts, and a skirt
-- the clothes on my back
-- a hairbrush and toothpaste
It was all very clear to me. It's funny how consciously, some of my most prized possessions are my journals, my pictures of those I love or have loved. Remembrances. However, I was completely aware that I was in a dream, and I was content to let all those things-- the dried rosepetals, the claddagh rings, the yellowed photographs-- turn to dust and fade away.
It was almost as though if they didn't exist, those memories would dissipate-- and to me, that was so freeing that I almost welcomed it. Imagine, starting fresh, new, on some strange sterile world. No more wondering what I might have done differently, no more worrying that my choices were disastrous mistakes from which I might never recover. It made me almost happy, to be honest. It lifted a heavy weight from my chest.
If the world were ending, what would you take with you?
I woke up this morning with no voice. I expect that this will slightly improve in the coming hours, but right now, I sound pretty ghastly. I hope today passes swiftly-- things at work have been beyond tense, and if there is not a change, I may well begin looking for a new job. I'm just not being fulfilled.