I made my way to the kitchen, but had to stop from the shock of what I found: a room full of all of my friends...dancing round and round.

I had the oddest dream last night.
I was sitting in an apartment -- and although I'm sure I've never actually seen this place in real life, I could sketch out every room. I used to think that I should become an architect because I'd dream up these beautiful houses in my dreams.
It felt like it was my home though. At least, that's the impression that I got in the dream. And there was some sort of party going on. Filled with people that I knew. Funny thing was, they were all jumbled together. My friend Chris from music school was talking about a concert that he was giving soon and playing his trumpet for us. I was talking about Glee with someone, talking classical music with Yooms from Seattle, and talking church with Vegas from Seattle. At one point, I remember getting up to greet and give a hug to my childhood friend from New York, Taeho. He had cut his hair since the last time that I had seen him him and he was wearing a sweater vest.
It must have been my party. Or a party that they put together for me...which is a really nice thought...but I think that the former is probably more likely. And it had a comfortableness that doesn't come with reality. Because it wasn't odd at all that my friend that I knew from when I was born was conversing with my seventh day adventist friend who was sitting next to a friend from Seattle.
But then something happened to change that comfortability. I felt trapped. I had to leave. I didn't want to be there anymore. I got up and just left.
I thought to myself...I can't dig through all the shoes that are in the entryway to find my sneakers. I'll attract too much attention. I left in my bare feet, went down the stairs of my apartment building, stole the sneakers of my neighbor downstairs. He/she had left them in the entryway of his own apartment, the door slightly ajar.
The sneakers were a little big, but it was okay if I pulled the laces tight. They were black and white reeboks.
After I had the sneakers on, I just started running.
It's still light out and it's a nice summer day-almost-night. I see a lot of things around me, but they're not really important to relate. Oh. Except that the things I see make me think that I might be in Korea right now. Or California. How else can you explain the incongruency of seeing a Disneyland banner that's written in Korean?
I'm not sure where I'm running. In my head, I have an idea of running to this lake that I know of. Secluded. Safe. Private. I'm flying down the sidewalk, leaping down stairs. I don't stop even when I have to change directions or when I suspect that I don't know where I'm going.
I'm not a good runner in real life. I know. I used to try and jog in the mornings...And I would get up at like 6 in the morning to do it, because I didn't want people to see me running around the streets.
But in my dream, I don't need to stop. I'm not going particularly fast, but I feel like I can run forever. It feels amazing to run like this.
Which is good, because in my dream I know. I am dead sure that if I stop for one moment, they'll catch me.
But it's okay. Because if I keep going, I'll be okay.
I don't know what happens after that in the dream. I'm kinda curious, but I just don't remember anything after that. I don't know what I thought I was running from, or where I thought I was running to.
I'm not big on the dream interpretations. I'm not like my mom, who calls me the minute she has a bad dream to make sure that I'm doing all right. I'm not Freud, so I'm not going to psychoanalyze this thing to shreds only to find that (surprise!) it has something to do with repressed sexual tensions or with my father. Or, knowing Freud, a combination of both. I'm not saying that dreams are nonsense. Some of them are a reflection of what you've been thinking...your insecurities...what your mind is preoccupied with at the moment, whether it be desires or fears. As for the whole dream fortune-telling thing...well I think that only applies as much as you believe in it. I don't, but maybe you do.
I don't usually end up writing a lot on blogs because I feel pretentious when I try to. I'm not trying to pass off what I say as pearls of wisdom...Nor do I believe I have any worldly wisdom at all. I don't. Far from it.
But I don't think it's a stretch to say that people often feel the need to "breakaway" from something. Run away from people. Themselves. circumstances. If I were to say that I was running away from something, it would probably have something to do with how tired I am of bullshit these days.
I'm tired of what's expected of us, what people think of me -- whether it's wrong or more right than even I can know, what's real or what's true or what I want to be faced with who I am. I'm tired of waffling, people who hide their motivations, or people who can't make what they say true by actually doing it. I'm also tired of people not seeing me for who I am...although that may have to do with how I'm afraid of giving too much away.
To be honest, I'm scared that I'm not living in a world full of sincerity...but at the same I'm not always comfortable with who I am...sincerely. And when I think about it...that's really the only reason I would feel trapped in a room full of people I know from all aspects of my life. So trapped that I feel the need to run from it.
But really, bottom line? I see no point in complaining about bullshit and the lack of sincerity around me. Who I am and who I relate with and who I spend time with...These are all decisions that I make. And if I'm not sincere with others, how can I expect people to be real with me? Why am I saying all these high and mighty "I'm tired of" things when I'm far from perfect myself?
Or maybe I find these things irritate me in other people because I know that they're the exact things that I struggle with.
People get this idea in their heads that they can run away from who they are. Which is ridiculous...because when you're the one doing the running, you're really just bringing the problem along. The last thing I want to be is a person that's complaining about the world or the way they think that the world works or of the pressures that they face or how other people are just so ignorant and hopeless. I don't believe in that. Not really. At least, not in the end.
And on the other hand, it's funny how people that become all cynical and jaded think that they know it all. But sometimes I think their so-called perspective blinds them to how amazing the world really is...and what we're all capable of.
The world is what we make of it. If you don't like it, do something about it. Simple. As. That.
But sometimes I have to admit...it really does feel good to run.
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