Here's three of my dreams lately... if you could tell me what they mean in all their bizarreness, that would be great.
Pandivergent, the Panda Games, the Panda Wave
We're walking through streets with houses much like the ones you see in Singapore; compact but weirdly big on the inside. The streets have an Asian village feel to them, with plants growing through cracks in the concrete and short unfinished cement walls outlining gardens. And suddenly there's pandas. At first you, me and everyone think, "Oh. Pandas. How Cute.", but then we remember that pandas are vicious when not behind glass at a zoo.
We're running. We run through houses, into the front, out through the back. The streets are a maze and there's pandas everywhere. We tiptoe through a house, trying to find a room to hide in, a room where they won't find us. The blood drains from our faces as we realise that there seems to be a panda in every room, and we've trapped ourselves. There's a panda in the bright, glass piano room, sleeping next to a pot plant. It's the last room before the back door.
Suddenly people are entering the house. It goes from absolutely silent to the shouts of human yelling in a heartbeat. They're wearing black, and masks and carrying huge black guns. We run out onto the street to find more black-suited reinforcements, but we're all surrounded. The pandas are coming at us from all directions. We may have guns and weapons, but the pandas are not backing down.
At some point we manage to communicate with the pandas and they tell us that they're holding this rebellion because they want their land back. By this point the humans have realised that we're on the weaker end of the fight, and unlike all the books we read, the humans give up. We pack our bags and leave the gates of the city, and we end up at an arch much like the ones you see when you enter ChinaTown. As we're standing there with our bags, it feels like a happy ending, because the pandas got what they wanted, and we're not so bad off either.
I guess in this case the pandas were the suppressed good guys, and we were President Snow and the Capitol.
Nate Archibald's Picnic
I'm playing the piano when a whole bunch of my school friends enter my house in a conga line. "What are you doing here?" I ask.
"We just thought we'd come and visit you."
"Oh. Where were you before?"
"Nate was having a picnic, and you weren't there, so we thought we'd come here after and see what you were up to."
"Oh. Okay." I guess we weren't invited then? My friends leave abruptly in a conga line again, and I resume practicing the piano.
A while later my mum enters the house and I ask her where she's been. "I was just helping the Archibalds out at their picnic. They asked me to come and bring a dish the other day."
"What!? Why didn't you tell me?" I'm gutted that I've missed the Archibald's picnic. I love going over there because their mansion is positively beautiful and I love spending time with Nate.
"I thought you needed to study." For the rest of the day I'm just wishing I were there. I would've probably been playing polo or a family game of rugby instead of practicing the piano.
Later that night my mum asks me if I want to come with her to drop a package off at the Archibalds. Of course I say yes. We arrive and walk up the massive shiny wooden staircase, and there the Archibald family is. For some reason Nate and I are the best of friends, and we decide to go for a night-time walk. Suddenly I'm like Serena van der Woodsen, walking through the streets of New York City. I'm telling him all of my boy problems because in my dream, I've friend zoned Nate Archibald.
The ATAR Nightmare
One day I'm a normal Year 11 girl, studying her butt off for that high ATAR, and the next we're captured and thrown into a Japanese Prisoner of War Camp for two years. To be honest, it didn't seem all that brutal. I mean, we were starving and neglected of basic human rights, but I made some lifelong friends along the way, and the friendships I currently have became so much closer. We sang in a choir, we laughed as we cooked our scraps of food. We had minimal routine. Every morning we would stand in rows and bow to the Japanese flag, and then who knows what job we would get assigned? We never knew what we would get up to between those gates.
And one day we were free, and suddenly I was back at school again, in my pristine preppy girls' private school uniform. It's been two years, so we're all 18 now. We should've graduated last year, so instead of doing Year 12, we get an estimated ATAR based on our semester's worth of Year 11 results.
One of my friends comes back with an 84, and everyone screams 'Well done!' The next person comes back with an unexpected 99, and everyone's celebrating. Then it's my turn, and here I am, sure that the scaling of my subjects will pull me up. The number pops up in big black letters on the screen. 74. It's not fair. Both my physics and chemistry marks have been put in as 0, and neither one of my maths results have scaled up. I'm screaming and crying at the teacher asking him why I have subjects missing, how this could be possible.
We find my chemistry teacher who mutters something sarcastic, and then enters my chemistry and physics scores, which look a lot lower than I remember them being. The screen lights up again and now I've got an 84. I feel like all my dreams have been crushed.
That last dream just shows you how much school is dominating my life right now. We're studying a play about women in Japanese war camps during World War 2 in English at the moment, so that's where that came from. Speaking of ATARs, I have a huge maths assignment to do and really shouldn't have spent any time writing this post today.