Sunday, December 22, 2013

Mister Sandman, please bring me my dreams.

I never thought that I would have sleepless nights outside of Japan. For some reason, my study abroad was plagued by bouts of insomnia. Starting out as a new-hire flight attendant, I was one of the lucky few that found closing my eyes and resting quite easy. The bouncing back and forth between international borders, airports, and lack of a place to really call my own (aside from my suitcase, of course, all seemed to benefit me in getting some good ol' shuteye. Yet, I can't seem to bring myself to let go and travel to dreamland tonight in Dusseldorf, Germany. 

The more I think about it, I feel that the Christmas Holidays have always brought with them some sort of emotional strife. Perhaps it came around the age I stopped believing in Santa, or it could have been around the time I entered high school. Either way, it isn't pleasant.

I remember the chats I had with friends at Ritsumeikan, sitting by a cold river and drinking fruity cocktails. The Captain, Laura, and I all talked about where we came from, our hopes, and our dreams. I lie awake and wonder where my dreams have gone, what they are now, and if they're changing. Maybe the Sandman took them for awhile to give them a good tweaking. I open my eyes, sigh, and tell myself that this is just another phase where I need to relax, go with the flow of life, and that one day, I'll be rewarded in the end. As the sleep starts to come, I ask myself, "How did I get here?" 

It's all a part of growing up. 

I scramble through profiles on facebook and tumblr and realize that my friends and I have changed so drastically over the course of the four years we've been out of high school. I no longer have fun sleepless nights where I write with my friends. Tennis and music haven't been a part of my life in ages, and I rarely draw or write anything of my own. Are these things in the same place as my dreams? When and where did I lose myself?

Apart from the philosophical soul searching, I can't help but observe the lack of drive brewing in my former hero and circle of friends. I want to scream and fight the ebb and flow that is dragging us in the tide of whatever this mess may be, but am tired of fighting for my life in this never-ending sea of rip-currents. One more semester to graduate, and the paperwork was screwed up again by the higher-ups in the office. No accountability, and the students are left to drown. 

Perhaps all of this is a mass of pent-up frustration and loathing for the world around me. But when I look at pictures of Japan, my study abroad, and the wonderful people I met there, the world seems more peaceful. It hurts, but I'm so relieved when the tears fall from my eyes.

Mister Sandman, please don't change that feeling. I'll get back there someday.