| and Freud would say... |
[Aug. 2nd, 2006|10:13 pm] |
“The mind is like an iceberg, it floats with one-seventh of its bulk above water.” - Sigmund Freud
On Sunday night, I had a pretty vivid dream. I was going to the SC graduation ball again, with the Clovers. It felt like it was year 13 again, but it wasn't because the lower years were there too, and somehow our entire class of 2005 had just found an excuse to hold a 'reunion' at their ball. We all wondered if the lower years would resent our crashing their party, but also were happy to all be together again as a year, seeing people you'd see around in school but never really talk to and whose presence you take for granted.
I have a bit of stress picking out a dress- at first I see an embarrassing 50s or 80s style, (think Chinese night club singer) sashy blue gown hanging on the back of my bedroom door, but it's a lovely shade of baby blue (just like the one Tina wore in 05) and I can't help but wonder if it would look good on me even though it looks ridiculous on the hanger. In the end, for my convenience, I end up wearing the red dress I wore to the 05 ball though, because I know it'll fit and I feel comfortable if slightly young-looking in it. I'm also happy because now my hair's shorter and more tapered, whereas in 2005 my hair was long because despite wanting a haircut I wasn't sure I would look good in a dress with short hair.
Realising that this year we didn't book a hotel room, Tina suggests on the phone that we sleepover at mine. I ask Dad, and he seems fine with it at first but then starts getting a bit doubtful, saying ‘we’ve given you so many allowances already, you’ve had tones of people over...'. In the end he kind of gives permission, giving me the usual ‘use your own judgment, manage your own business’ message he tends to give.
The next thing I know we're walking out of the graduation ball, to go home, only it’s turned into the Exco building in Hong Kong, where I'd gone for a candle light vigil back in year 11 before exams, protesting about China's misinterpretation of our law. It's after our graduation ball, and I see the faces of a few lower years (I remember Devereux's face, anyway), but it's also after a protest or a candlelight vigil that I've just been to, and tonnes of people walking home, Hong Kong style, after the protest.
There are tonnes of reporters trying to get interviews. I’m walking with Amata to the Central MTR station, with the others a distance behind us, and we're planning to go back to my house, but I see a reporter asking if I’m free for an interview and I’m tempted because I've never been interviewed on the streets before. I ask him how long it’ll take and he says ‘as long as you allow’ so I say ‘5 minutes?’. He asks me questions as I walk to the MTR station but halfway through I’ve lost Amata so I call her and it turns out she’s still walking further back, so on the phone I tell her I’ll wait for her at Central MTR station- and she’s surprised I’d wait there at first- probably in my dream she’s still quite a walk away and is surprised I don’t mind waiting that long.
The guy’s questions are general at first, but they get more and more stupid and disappointing and I’m thinking ‘who the hell is this guy? He’s a useless reporter!’ There start being long silences between my answers while he desperately thinks of the next question and I wonder why it is that these men always disappoint me.
There’s just one point when there’s a question I really want to answer properly and get quoted for, and I try very hard to say what I really think, although my Chinese isn't very good and it's hard to get the words out properly. I struggle to say it right, but what I basically said was: ‘I don’t think the youth in Hong Kong are that selfish and apolitical really, I think we do really care about current affairs and democracy- I mean, look at how many people still go to marches and candle light vigils, and follow it up with other action afterwards- for a small city like Hong Kong that’s still developing politically I think that’s very good’. Even as I said it, I felt afraid inside that it wasn't true, but I knew that even if it wasn't true I'd still say it in hoping the quote would last or be considered true.
The reporter didn't really care about what I'd just said and starting asking obviously useless questions, like ‘why do you think your friend’s taking so long? Is it because you do humanities and she does sciences, so she can't be bothered to meet you on time?’
The questions were irritating me and I was getting a bit appalled at his stupidity and a bit freaked out by him (like ‘is he even a real journalist?’) when my alarm rang and I woke up.
***
I felt quite 'satisfied' with my dream, when I woke up and realised that I could explain the symbolism of almost everything, even though I don't like believing in symbols. For starters, I've just started my newspaper internship and often make mistakes, although I know that I should accept them and keep trying to improve, since I really am just starting out, with no experience. I suppose the 'Activation-synthesis' model of dream theory makes more sense than the Freudian one, because Freud says you dream about your deep dark desires, disguised, whereas Activation-synthesis says your brain fires off random neurons that your mind links logically to make sense of, but that things you're preoccupied with, and recent experiences, are more likely to come up because you think about them before you sleep, making the neurons active.
Freudian analysis is very controversial and often up for misinterpretation, but with dreams like these sometimes I think the meanings are only too clear, if you decide to indulge in that sort of thing.
...I miss you two. =]
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