I was going through my email today and I found an old assignment I did last semester for Psychology. We had to record our dreams for about a week or two, and its so amazing to read them now:
1. Sunday, February 11th, 2007
I again dreamed that we’ve moved. I found myself in Ahtopol, the sun was so bright, the sky so blue…I was walking with Stunji on Ahtopol’s streets, and we were giggling from pleasure that we were there. We looked at each other, our eyes smiling, saying: “See, I told you it would happen, didn’t I tell you to Just hold on, and the nightmare would be over. It feels like we never event went through it.” And then….I felt the urge to go to a church, a small church, of ancient stones, on the edge of a cliff at the Black Sea. I became thirsty to simply go and light a candle, my soul was crying for it-I needed the light of that candle, to simply pray and say Thank You for everything…..
I am not a religious person, but I do believe that God exists. I have wished for very few things, but I’ve wished them so sincerely, with all my heart and soul, that they’ve come true. In other words, I believe that God knows your needs and He looks after you, if you love him.
I went to the church, and there I found a bunch of people who were fake. Lisa was there too, and they were playing games for Youth Group- the entire nightmare from the reality here rushed back and I felt trapped. I didn’t find the sacred comfort, the warmness, the harmony, the candle, the path…
2. Friday, February 16th, 2007
We were in our old apartment in Sofia, Bulgaria. Not the one in Mladost, but the one on the opposite end of the city- in Liulin. I was talking to George Bush on the phone. I wanted to tell him to evacuate all people from New Mexico, because I have found out ( I don’t know how) that they are sending rockets with biological disease from Arizona. Round me it was very noisy and chaotic. My father and grandmother were fighting, and so I could hardly talk or concentrate. I just remember the feeling of something that is about to happen, I was anxious, worried, very nervous.
3. Friday, February 16th
I was in Ahtopol (a small resort town at the Black Sea, in which I spent most of my childhood). My cousin, Lina, saw me for the fist time in 4 years. We were hugging, kissing, crying. My uncle Plamen and my dead aunt Nushka were there too. My uncle was unloading the car (a red Citroën, they always had it, even in my dreams!). Aunt Nushka looked like an Angel from the skies; she was wearing a bright white dress, and was more beautiful than ever ( in reality she died 2 years ago of cancer). I thought to myself, “She’s always so pretty”, and told her she looked better than ever and that I was glad she recovered from her illness. I told her, “See how pretty you are, your hump is gone!” (She never had one, but in my dream I thought she always did and was happy to see her normal). Her lips were so red, her face so white and perfect, her hair gold. Her eyes were warm, sparkly, smiling; she was incredibly captivating with her almost divine appearance. There was this invisible glow around her.
4. Friday, February 16th
I am flying through the time. Flying through memories, through emotions and little moments from the past. I am looking for something or someone. I am running away, form something and searching for something at the same time. I go through walls, trees, corners, cars….Then I find myself in a window of the Future. I can see my 7 year old son. He is sleeping in a small, cozy room with dim light. I catch a glimpse of his calm face and small hand and fly out the open window, to run, to search. Whom? Him? Her? I don’t know. I am ready to do anything to find what I am looking for. Then, random questions, random emotions, confusion, determination…
Next thing I know, I am at a “battle”. I am stuck in a cage, for animals. In it I fight I huge green dragon, or a lamia with many heads (don’t laugh). Victory. ( I have to mention that even though this looks like it, it isn’t from a video game, because I never play those)
Then I fly again. I am in a sea of tomatoes (stop laughing!) I start eating some, without touching them with my hands, just swallowing, and then throwing them- at a mop that is below me. Yes, a huge crowd of people can see me, and I am up there, in the sky, with no clothes, eating and throwing tomatoes at them. It feels vulnerable, cold, and amusing.
5. Friday, February 16th
I am walking out of a hotel that in my mind is engraved as my beautiful “jail,” in an emotional meaning. I was looking at it from the outside. I look at my hands – I am now holding a set of crystal glasses, for wine. I go inside, and the glasses turn plastic. Inside the hotel, everyone is crying. Everyone needs my help, but I just simply want to escape. I didn’t even want to go in, in the first place, but since I had those glasses, I thought someone gave me a task and I forgot to do it.
I walk outside and I go in a car, with some people, going somewhere. We drive through mountains, canyons. At some point the road starts getting smaller and smaller, like a cube when you extend its sides – they meet at a point in the horizon if you draw in perspective. The car “melts” under us, and now we start climbing on sharp, beautiful rocks, the sea is behind us. We carefully climb and jump and swing from one cliff to another, using hand-made ropes, and trying to stay dry and never touch the water.
We reach “the end”, and there a Monarch was waiting for us. I am not alone – there is someone else with me, some person. We bow to the Monarch. He is dressed in orange robes and is bald. He “accepts” us, and allows us to stay on his territory- weather we are on his land or in his imagination while he’s meditating. I don’t really know where I am, but I’ve reached a final destination and that makes me feel content and fresh.
On the side, next to a damp, I see a small library, of stone. I see a fallen book; it looks like it’s been translated from Japanese to Bulgarian. I pick it up and try to read it. It turns out to be Russian.
6. Friday, February 17th
I remember very little of this dream. I was at the other part of Sofia-Mladost. It was raining cat and dogs, and I was outside, in front of the cooperation, looking at the green grass. I found a snail, and decided to “rescue” it. I was determined to save the little creature from drowning (snails love rain!) and to keep it dry and save. It was almost like I was protecting a baby, or something that in any case was much more important to me then I myself. All I remember is looking at the snail at the sun (I held it high up to the sun), and it had a whole in its shell. I was smiling and trying to show it to everyone.
7. Thursday, Feb 22nd
I dreamed of a girl that moves objects with her eyes and when she touches someone he either dies or faints, or “changes”. She is dressed in pink (my least favorite color) and carries a pink teddy bear everywhere with her. I am again in Mladost, this time in the apartment. I repeatedly see the same dream for about 10 times – in front of the kindergarten that is across the street, I observe from the 7th floor from the window. The girl goes up to a person on a bench, laughs, touches him, he faints or dies, and then she walk away, And thus, 10 times.
Then I stop looking out the window and turn back. At this point I am not in the apartment in Mladost anymore, but in the one in Liulin (we moved there when I was 
All my family is together. Many of us start crying, I don’t know why. I look at my hands, and I am holding my dog Gabriela, a mini brown dachshund (in reality, we left her in Bulgaria 3 years ago. My parents always promised us to bring her along, knowing that it is impossible). I kiss and squeeze her, and tell myself that this time I will Never let her go. My dad turns a camera on (through the TV surprisingly) and at that moment my brother returns home, laughing, with a huge stack of beer: “It’s time to celebrate” he says. “It’s over, we’re finally moving.”
We are at 2 places at the same time – at the apartment in Liulin, and at some wild rocks in the wilderness, where I am very scared and holding on to Gabriela even more.
8. Saturday, Feb 24th
I am in Bulgaria, at the little resort town at the Black Sea, Ahtopol, where I spent most of my childhood. I know I am leaving and people are waiting for me. I feel light, happy, expecting for something to happen. I walk in a little book store, that is typical Bulgarian. I stare at the person behind the desk. She has short blond hair, is very skinny, and cheerful. It’s Mrs. Ovaska. I also confuse here with another lady I met at the Greyhound buses on my 36 hour trip back from LA to ABQ, when my flight got canceled. Somehow, they two were one person – it looked like Mrs. Ovaska, but maybe had the life of that other person. Mrs. Ovaska is very kind and greets me warmly. She asks me what I’m looking for and I say that I still don’t know. I start looking at the shelves. I ask her what is the product that people buy the MOST in her little store, and she points at the $2 markers. They have them in all colors, with glitter or without, silver, gold, black, green. I don’t like them. I want “fulmasteri” (Bulgarian), which are little kid sets of 15-20 markers, mainly used to color in color books. I can’t leave my country without my colors.
I get worried – I remember that I am in a hurry. I start sweating, my heart starts beating fast. Mrs. Ovaska looks at me and suggests I look around more. While I am looking, she starts talking to me about her life. I ask her about her baby girl and she tells me that she’s just fine (her name is Olivia ) and as adorable as always, and that she got a friend to help her raise the baby and get over the problem ( she didn’t specify, but it seemed like I knew what she was talking about). She tells me that every summer she and her husband and her daughter go to Greece for a month, and then around Europe. They gain life-lasting experience, and she tells me that this is like a therapy for her; traveling is in the core of her life, the best thing in her life. She looks so enthusiastic, her eyes glitter.
I look around the shop – all the merchandise looks familiar. Like a typical Bulgarian small book shop, there are toys (some of them I recognize, I’ve had them when I was little), kids books, markers, bright notebooks and notepads, etc. People rush in the store and Mrs. Ovaska starts talking to them. I go to the other corner of the small store which is about a medium sized room. There, I find Art materials. Each following tool I look at is prettier than the previous one. I remember that I am a painter, and get super inspired by the look of the brushes, pencils, painting knifes, charcoal sticks, easels, canvases, etc. Everything is so tempting! I wanted to buy kid’s markers and here I had the professional materials. I pick up each little tool, I find and explore it. I find a jar with painting knifes and I am completely fascinated by it. I remember something unusual in it, something I hadn’t seen before- painting forks! Silver, tiny and cute, I wanted one! They were $7 and I was getting one. I spent a long time choosing. I first picked a random one, and then switched for a carefully chosen one ( I always do that ). I remember I was in aw – its teeth were perfect. I could picture painting with it, with its perfect shape and size. I was about to turn around a pay for it, when my father walked in my bedroom and walk me up.
10. Sunday, Feb 25th
I am in the hallway at school. I am thinking of someone, someone I love. I want to see him, maybe even talk to him, but I know I won’t. I know he has to talk to me. I know I shouldn’t care, and yet my heart aches just by the thought I’ll see him around the corner.
I see him walking towards me. I smile and look into his eyes. He is wearing the usual clothes, and his proud posture. He didn’t look at me. Instead, he stormed by me, violently pushing me, or rather he crashed into me, looked me square in the eyes in a playful way. We both laughed, and walked away, in opposite directions without turning back. That was all.
Who is he? I don’t know. It’s just a dream.
11. Monday, Feb 26th
I am at school, talking to Marina (best friend). I’m anxious, angry, and nervous. I wave my hands and try to explain. I start screaming at her, and very soon I start crying.
“We should atleast TRY! I can’t, Marina, I can’t…I have to try…”
“Bani, you let everyone walk over you. She doesn’t give a **** about you.
She’ll slap you in the face. Why are you doing this?”
“Because…Here’s the thing, Marina, this is how you and I are very different. I care, you don’t. I want to be honest with her. I know that this is a mistake; I know I am going against my intuition. But I have to. This is how I’ve made most of my mistakes, and I’ve learned so much. Just because all the other times failed, doesn’t mean that I should stop doing the right thing and keep trying. I know that I’ll lose, I’ll get hurt, but I HAVE t do it, do you understand?! I have to know that I’ve done my best and tried everything. It’s not honest otherwise. I’ll hate myself for not trying. I know I’ll get run over, but I have to try, because I care, I love, a appreciate, I fight.
And you – you are being completely honest as well. You simply don’t care. Atleast I’ll know I tried everything to save us. Goodbye.”
I am now crying bitterly, screaming at her. I rush out of the classroom, and see myself walking down E-wing, turning right, and shivering in anger.
Where do I begin…
)))) and we watched it 50 times and made the most ridiculous sounds cause it was juuusut incredible ….then stunji saw it and deleted it…
