May 11, 2012
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I won a Madame butterfly.
It was a castle of Middle Ages era. Tall stone-brick walls and wooden roofs. The kind that Hamlet would stay in. I was a knight. An amateur one. Participating in an invasion into a castle to steal a Madame butterfly, the prize of the battle. There were knights in tights and their sword fights. Raging in extreme enthusiasm to defeat the enemy.
I didn’t wear my tights. I used it as my weapon (don’t ask). I finally reached the attic of the castle where they safely kept the prize. Fought against a couple of female guards with my tights, with ease (don’t remember what their weapons were). As soon as I defeated them, I seized the prize that laid open on the altar at the corner of the attic. The Madame butterfly was in my hand. It was a white fluffy feathery thingy. Don’t know what it was, could be a dead bird for all I know, but it was a victory.
Suddenly, all of the female guards of the castle flipped their wings. All of them. Everywhere, female human butterflies hovering mid-air signaling that I had seized their most beloved and sacred treasure. A beautiful sight.
I had a sudden urge to get out. I rushed out from the castle towards the entrance gate. From a distance, I saw the gate opened and came in a black car and a sea of Italian villagers came rushing toward me. I paused. Trying to figure out which way best to escape. I realized I had no choice but to head straight to the crowd as it is the only way out.
They were not there to stop me. More like a slow traffic that prevented me from moving forward. Yet I pushed hard. Squeezing my way through the crowd. I swear I passed a well-known female Italian celebrity chef. Immediately, I thought of food. And woke up.
I had no flippin’ idea why I dreamt such dream and what the Madame butterfly thingy was supposed to mean. But I did think of Italian food before I went to sleep. Pasta lunch I’m hoping to have later this weekend with my mates. Handmade Fettuccini in truffle cream. Or perhaps Pappardelle in mushroom ragout. I’m craving Italians lately.
Comments (11)
OK! Bizarre! LOL But it made a funny read.
And don't get me started on the part of you not wearing tights and fighting. *haha*
I read the post with great interest. You have a very appealing writing style. Change the food and see if the dreams change. This could be the beginnings of a new book --Eat & Dream
You should watch Madama Butterfly.
The dream probably was because of the meal you had. But I do hope you can watch that opera.
I think this has to do with Japanese underwear.
@beowulf222 - i swear it was just the very obvious thing to do in the dream. it was in my hands and so i used it as a weapon. no brainer. case closed.
@Fatcat723 - a book, huh? hhmm.... interesting.
@ZSA_MD - yes, i'm familiar with the opera. but never seen it. maybe i should. it's available in italian, no? ;)
@ElusiveWords - now, now. not everything is about japanese underwear. i wasn't even wearing one when i had the dream.
@rudyhou - Does that mean you sleep commando or you were just commando in your dream.
@ZSA_MD - thank you for the recommendation, zakiah.
@beowulf222 - the later ;P
Re: Cinco de Mayo is a Mexican holiday. It's supposedly their independence day but after someone talked to some Mexicans at work, apparently their real independence day is September 15. Eh. Close enough. Well, not really. But it was a reason to throw a party. Hahahaha....
Cinco de Mayo just means May 5th. Also, there were no Mexicans at the party. Really random but loads of fun. A lot of tequila though. Massive burritos and homemade churros. Nachoes. It was obvious if we had to be authentic, we'd be HORRIBLE racists.
But, thankfully, it was about friends and making good memories.
=)
Less spicy food before dinner, I think... =D
@Vitamin_D - thanks for the explanation. funny how no mexicans at a mexican party. oh, you guys forgot two more things - quesadilla and tamale
@christao408 - have you forgotten? i don't take spicy food.