Everyone dreams even though most of us don’t remember exactly what was it really about. For the last couple of months it seems like my dream memory is improving because almost every morning I vividly remember all the details which I find very amusing, but silly me, I would say to myself: “Woah, this was cool, I’m sure I won’t forget it this time!” But not surprisingly, if I don’t write it down right away, poof! It’s gone.
A year ago I could’ve sworn that I was a no dreamer, which is kind of sad when you think about it, not that dreams are always that interesting, but when you do the math (I didn’t, of course, someone did), in an average lifetime six years is spent dreaming. Not to mention the big range of artists who get inspired by dreams, breaking the line between what’s real and rational (at least by society’s standards) and otherworldly elements of human psyche, our behaviour, relationships and atmosphere in general. That is where the genuine, uncensored fun is born, but I’m going to stop myself from turning this into another David Lynch appreciation post. What I wanted to stress, everything can be dreamy if you want it to be, a ray of sun falling on the kitchen table, a bike ride, the view through the window, a cat sleeping on your lap… Just add a bit of filter – mental or through an app, it all counts.
I woke up this morning with a very detailed memory of a dream I had and I wrote it down on my cell phone and didn’t look at the notes since then, but somehow I still remembered everything, even the anxious atmosphere and the familiar, but also weird and unknown surroundings. So, now I’m going to get back to it and draw as much details I can to keep them here written until the world ends or until internet is down forever, which is the same thing.
Winter time, or so I think judging by the clothes I was wearing. I got all dressed up to go to a very special projection in my favourite old cinema in the center of Zagreb called Kino Europa. This isn’t surprising because that place means a lot to me and in exactly a week it will be closed for renovation and no one really knows how long that’s going to take. There’s not even a guarantee it will be reopened as the same cinema again. But, that’s a story I’m not really eager to type into right now.
Before I entered the cinema I met a random high school friend, we awkwardly said hi to each other and that was it. He was standing next to some other guy and they were selling flowers.
I was wearing a huge, fluffy fur coat (real fur, but don’t judge, it’s my dream) and started feeling nervous as soon as I saw the line of people waiting in front of the cloakroom, my usual ‘fuck this shit’ instinct kicked in and I started walking towards the stairs, but someone stopped me, “You can’t go upstairs with the coat.” In real life there’s no need to go upstairs in this cinema and I realized later that my mind combined the interior from Kino Europa and Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb, which was a really cool mix.
It was finally my turn to hand in the coat, the woman working there mumbled under her breath: “It’s 10 lipa”. This is a ridiculously small amount of money, a 10 lipa coin is small, rusty and basically worthless. I gave her 20 lipa and said: “It’s ok, keep the change.”
The cloakroom situation doesn’t end here, instead of the usual routine of handing me the number that will connect me to my loving coat at the end of the night, the woman shows me a big piece of paper with everyone’s names on it. I had to sign it and somehow that will be enough. It didn’t make sense and I started asking questions making the woman rolling her eyes like I’m the biggest idiot ever. I’m still holding the coat and it’s very heavy, the woman takes it from my hands and marches to the back. I can’t find my full name on the paper, I’m getting very anxious at his point, I just want to sit down and enjoy the movie.
Another, younger woman comes back and shows me my first name on the list – Matea. “Yeah, but how do I know that’s me, there’s no last name. The woman nods her head, sighs, opens a laptop (I don’t know where it came from) and starts reading everything I ever put in my CV, but not the regular one, just the ones in Europass format. I have a couple of those in different languages written for different purposes so that’s a lot of information. Now I nod my head and pay 160 kunas (around 20 euros) for the movie ticket. I think to myself: “Well, this is quite expensive and yet so many people came.”
Finally, I go upstairs and enter the movie theater and sit down. I have no idea what movie I watched. I hope I got my coat back, though.