It’s All Relative

I never really knew that she could dance like this
She makes a man wants to speak Spanish
Como se llama, bonita, mi casa, su casa

Beat Up. Beat Up. Dance around like you have nothing more important to do. Move your body. Grooving on the dancefloor. Feel the rhythm. Keep on dancing. Shake your hips. Shift up your head. Get yourselves hypnotized.

When the music is played, nothing else matters. Life becomes good and miraculous. The balls are bubbling up everywhere. The room is full. Beautiful people are on the table. Hot chicks and cool guys. Sweats themselves. The atmosphere’s blue. But it’s bright.

I hear shouts and screamings, cries of contentment, yells of joy, shrieks of bliss. Life is good again. Everyone mingles. Laughter’s everywhere, spreading like a contagious virus which dissolves in the air.

I am sitting in the corner watching my friends and the party divulges itself. I can’t stop smiling and laughing. Peace has overwhelmed me. The woman I love is just a few inches from me. She is beautiful. Her hair dances snakelikely as she wags it, reflecting the red lights all over me. It feels like a wind blowing me harder and harder.

I blink. I just escaped a car crash. I stepped the brake pedal immediately, right on time as I threw my bike to the left, narrowly escaping the big bus. My adrenaline paces, I should not have dreaming too often when I am on my bike. Death is easily escaped, but it won’t be like that for the next-times.

The wind is still blowing against me. I am quite awake now. That was not the first time of my near-accident-experiences. Oh, I don’t want to frighten you, so I should better tell you another story instead.

Let me tell you about my nightmare last night. I was dreaming about me being publicly announced that I’m a soliloquist. It all went well and all. But the nightmare began when I entered a cubical in men’s rest room. Someone was trying to choke me. The hand was pretty strong that I can’t fight it back. Then he (whoever he is) tried to stab me with something. I kinda figured that it’s a knifelike thing. It hurt. And I couldn’t breathe. I could really feel the pain and all. The dream was so real. I thought I was really being stabbed. So I yell and yell. At the top of my lung, wishing that someone would hear me and open the bathroom door and save me. It was extremely hard to yell while my voice was held up and I was tragically suffocated. I could see why this man was trying to smother me alive, it’s because I had announced myself as a soliloquist before. That time, it really made sense, but after I had woke up, it was so not.

I woke up almost instantly. It was 3.16 in the morning. I remembered the time closely, coz after that dream, I dared not to sleep again. But I knew that I had to, however, so I fell asleep again.

Well.. you’re right. This story isn’t better. Hahaha… Let me tell you about my next dream after that. (Yeah, in one short night, I had two very different dreams.)

I was watching a murderer hitting (seducing) on a beautiful girl. This dream wasn’t very clear to me after I woke up, but it was real clear when I had it. I don’t remember much why, but that beautiful girl (a strange girl I don’t recognize in the real world) turned out to be my girlfriend. We were together and I don’t really remember anything else. It’s just a deep emotional dream I had. I never met a girl with that face in real life. Not really my type, but very pretty and gorgeous. She had no resemblance with anyone I know. She was uncanny. Yeah, that’s right. But somehow I knew that I like her. What a weird dream.

That’s all about weird stories that keep me up on my bike. I have passed the highway. It will not be long before I get to home.

My mind flows like a gas in a vacuum space. It’s everywhere. Anni is one of my good friends. I haven’t met her for a while now, but we have had contacts every now and then.

The deal with meeting an old friend after a year or so, it’s that it excites you. You will never bore it. A year ago, exactly a year ago, I texted her to say goodbye, for she was going overseas. It was a detailed finale wrapped well inside my head. Now, on this coincidental date, we meet again. Weird.

I take the finale turn to a dark narrower road which will lead straight to my home. The air is getting chiller.

Oh… what are you thinking of? What are you thinking of? What are you thinking of?
When we are waiting for something, sometimes we wonder. No, no, no. Most times, we wonder what will happen. Then, we get disappointed. Then we blame on life. About how unfair it is. About how cruel it leads. Then we improvise, we learn from our mistakes which in the future, we will repeat those mistakes again. But then we won’t admit them. We dwell in our favourite side of the track. We say that it’s irrelevant. The situation has been changed. Guess what? It has. But the concept is the same. Happy or not, we make mistakes after mistakes. Can we be man enough to overcome it?

Promises, secrets, mistakes, denials, betrayals, infatuations, happiness, dreams, and bed-time stories. It’s all relative.

I park my bike. I am home safely. One day has passed. One journey has passed. Yet it’s not over. It’s the beginning of the others. We may like, we may hate. Goodbye to you, welcome to you. Whatever shits and craps annoy you. Whatever dream you choose to live. I will be right here with you, Bambang Superwan.