I had weird dreams two days in a row.
Japanese Department Store
Yesterday night I dreamt that my family and me went back to the old place where we lived when I was young. It was the house by the river in Samutsongkram. We all went on a boating trip. It was only a short route from our house to the market about 1 km away.
The view along the way was different, and we all seemed to act like we were visitors. My sister even mentioned that the view looked similar to the floating market at Damnoen Saduak, but better. We stop at the market, got off the boat and found huge building we found later it was a Japanese department store. I knew right then it was a dream. What the heck was a Japanese department store doing in my suburban hometown?
We went into the department store and did all kinds of weird things. My mom went into a room where she thought she would see her friends. There were many people there, but no one was her friends, so she was sad. And then we all saw a massage room, many masseurs sitting there, all were old Chinese men, dressed in robes like those in the old traditional Chinese movies.
We passed those masseurs to another section, where it was like a war zone game room. Then there were other things happened that I had forgotten already. I found it hard to remember stuff from my dreams, as they all messed up and made no sense. A lot of times I know that I was dreaming, but I just kept on dreaming. It was fun to find out how it would end (just like watching movies).
Young Writer
Last night I dreamt that I found my old school books and a magazine. They were all cover with dirty dusts. I took the magazine, and brushed the dust out to see the cover. It was "Satreesarn", a Thai magazine that is no longer in print. I think they stopped the circulation about 3-4 years ago. The cover was the King (or the Queen?) for his birthday. I thought I saw the date like December 2499 (Buddhist year, which equals to 1956). I looked inside and there was a story in English. I started to read.
The author told the story about how her mother insisted on her reading and writing. But she seemed to think that her life wasn't so useful, until she found the "torg organisation". I didn't know what "torg organisation" was, but the author wrote it as if everybody should know it. After reading on, I somehow happen to know that torg organisation was the organisation that helped the developing countries. And I used to work for it for a brief period of time after I graduated from university.
Then I started to realised that the author of the story was me. I felt the urge to turn back the page to see the name of the author, but I didn't, I just kept on reading. I thought I already forgot that I used to write to Satreesarn and they published my story. I thought I didn't realised I used to be able to write in English that well back then (I somehow knew that the story was written before I went to study in the UK -- however, this is a really messed up dream again, because I wasn't even born yet in 1956).
The story changed from the torg organisation to a story in the laboratory. I was not sure then that I was still the story I read, or actually in the room. There were some gas bottles on the shelf. I was explaining to two guys how I assembled the gas manifolds. There were two sets of gas bottles, hydrogen and carbon dioxide. Hydrogen set had 3 bottles and one big spare tank, but carbon dioxide set had only 3 bottles. I explained to those guys that hydrogen consumption was a lot higher than CO2 (200 scfm versus 50 scfm) so we need a spare tank for H2 only. Those guys were impressed by my knowledge! (Obviously this part is from my work. I am currently designing the gas systems for a power plant.)
Then I realised there was another guy in the room who was a driver and waiting to pick us to somewhere. He waited for us in front of the toilets. I thought I had to go to the toilet before we left that place. But the only vacant room had no door.
I finished reading the story. I felt kind of proud that I could write in English so well that the story got published. At the end of the story, on the bottom of the page, there was small print saying that there were some limited English stories published in Satreesarn (like some advert disclaimer kind of thing.) Before I woke up, I knew again that it was a dream. But I still felt proud that I could dreamt this bizarre story in English. :)
10:10 a.m. - Friday, Jul. 04, 2003
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