The nature of my dream is winding. Circles within circles like a spiral narrative that both begins and ends like a mystery novel. But I'm only sitting on an aeroplane. Drifting into mindful sub-consciousness, having not yet passed the border separating Europe and what is for me the new world. Musing over ideas of South Korea, allowing myself to doze, stop suddenly, and repeat again and again. The air pockets are fat and irregular. My stomach takes a leap and fall. Buckle your seat belt; bing bing says the light overhead. Wonderings are coloured now by a sickness in my bowels, bad taste in my mouth, and ears that won't pop.

 

Nothing is as it seems anymore. The airhostess sits beside me, strokes my thigh and undoes my zipper. I am lazy, lax, and limp. She only wanted to know if I wanted some more coffee. I decline. The first cup didn't work so another will only give me a headache. If I can't sleep I'll day dream.

The narrative continues to wind round and round and I feel my eyes roll. The cabin ceiling looks like a curved hospital theatre, as though I am lying flat, semi under, the anaesthetic oozing through my veins, my lungs are easy and the knife comes down. This is all too absurd. All I want is to sleep and to arrive in Busan, alive and well. I wish flying to be a silent medium, from A to B and nothing in between. No alluring hostess in my mind, no hospital theatre, no dreams other than the usual comfort of well-deserved coma like fantasy.

 

We try to approach things as often as we can with our best foot forward. We do try. I try. It seems like success is as arbitrary as any thing else. My visit to the other side of the world will prove a success if god is good. I think like that sometimes...."if god is good". It rolls off the tongue. But I just want this to be a hassle free time spent discovering things new. I dare not deem that I am looking for myself!  In truth I am running away. I am hoping to lose myself. I wish never to return, and yet someone is following me. Everyone is a red herring. I am the victim. I am still dozing. Asia will awaken me. Busan will awaken me. A new life, with new people, new challenges and new goals will awaken me. It must, for I am lost right here in my no-where ramblings of half sleep non-sense.

 

My musings come to a gradual halt, and I feel the slumbering thoughts fast approaching. This is all I wanted. This is the perfect dream.

ends.