It has been a dream of mine to be able to visit Japan. It was realized four years ago, and yet it haunts me. That trip was probably too short as the time was not maximized with a strategic plan to experience as much as we could, so instead of keeping my desires intact, it has heightened so much more that my subconscious is torturing me because of it.
I haven’t had a lot of dreams about flying or going to another country or the airport, but most of them involves me always missing my chance to go to Japan by a hair strand. I can still remember two out of the three previous ones before this morning’s dream about it, but I’ll leave that to silence for now.
In this dream this morning, I was in such a hurry from work that I was changing my clothes inside the taxi hurrying to the airport. I even remember the taxi driver whistling at me because at some point I just threw modesty out the window and stripped to my underwear just to wear new jeans and a shirt. Later on, everything was set. I have my duffel bag full of clothes, the ticket, and my friends, so we were just waiting for the boarding time. Suddenly, I realized that I didn’t have my passport with me. Actually, in a previous dream of the same kind, I was also in the airport without a passport, so this should be telling me something. I had an hour to go back to my house and I was planning on calling my mom to get the passport for me, but she was there in airport phones section to receive my call! She was even lying when she said she was at home, but didn’t have my passport because I can see her through a one-way mirror! Apparently, my mom was in the airport to go on a vacation with her friends too.
That was a long, vivid dream that the disappointment I had in the dream when I realized I would not be able to go remained with me when I woke up. I kept muttering, “How cruel…how cruel…” while my face was still stuffed on a pillow.
Japan, I swear I’m gonna kiss your land once more. You just wait.