Thursday, April 28, 2011

Chapter 6

Soon enough, everyone showed up.  I really had time to contemplate over what Mr. Simmons said- 'sometimes you're blind to what's right under you're nose'-or it was something like that.  We did have some small chatter after that till everyone came, but none of it is worth repeating.

This is what came in my mind when he said that to me: I am blind to what's right under my nose.  Hmm...What could he mean?  I am blind to something in my life that could give me happiness, to what I've always been longing for?  Hmm, let's see-is there something like that in my life?  Not much occurs.  I live with my friends who have girls when I don't, and I have an...interesting job.  What else is there?  Well, grandpa the other day in my dream basically agreed that I needed something in my life, though he went to the girl angle.  Oh wait!  That's it!  Dreams.  That could be something I could do!  My dreams always seem so strange, and they're always pointing things out to me that my consious mind will not tell me.  I shall pursue dreams!

Throughout much of the meeting I was contemplating this. After work, I am off to the library to research dreams!  What else am I ignorant of that they will give me?

Anywy, the girl sitting next to me is Corrie Jacobson.  She is one of the ad designers.  She's just your typical woman, there isn't much to say about her.  The woman in the bun is Meghan Ramunda.  She is another ad desisigner.  She is really into fashion, and has been divorced twice.  The blonde girl next to her is her daughter, Jade.  She is only sixteen.  She works as our cashier.  There is another cashier that works full time when she's not there, but he usually doesn't show up to the meetings.  And finally, the brown haired man is Jack Euclid.  He is a door to door salesman like me.  I really don't like him one bit.  He is a smart ass, a big mouth.  That sort of thing.

As usual, Mr. Simmons desk was full of stuff.  Neatness isn't one of his qualities.
"Welcome, welcome everyone.  Thank you for coming, even though I'm sure you have a very busy schedule!  Oh wait-I'm the reason you have a busy schedule!  You have no choice but to come!"
Mr. Simmons, always joking, even during a 'formal' event.  The other cashier was invited, but Mr. Simmons doesn't really make him come.  None of us especially like him.  He is a only an okay cashier.  Mr. Simmons wouldn't dare fire him though, because he has connections with some of our merchandisers, and we get discounts and advantages thanks to him.  At least he's not in an upper position.

"So, how have your jobs been going lately?  Any concerns, or news you would like to bring up?"

As always, Jack just had to dominate the conversation.  And first.
"Well, our customers have been responding very well with me recently.  I had one guy buy a piano, a drum set, and a guitar!  I make 25,000 simoleons from that guy!  And there was also this lady who bought ten antique records, and from her I made a whopping 50,000 simoleons."
Mr. Simmons is such a suck up for what Jack wants him to be.  Curse you Jack.
"Very good, Jack!  I am quite impressed.  Nice work!"
"I've also computed an average.  70% of the customers I approach buy something!  I'm telling you, it's my mad persuasion skills!  You couldn't do any better, I'm sure, Alex."
I just ignored him.

"How about you, Alex?  How have the customers been responding to you?"
The customers never respond as well to me, but I had to stretch the truth.  How could I top what Jack just said?
"Oh, it's been going...quite well, very well in fact...I have sold ten CD's and one piano to one person....And, well, a lot of small things to many people."
Wow, that sounded so lame.  Yup.  I am such a bad salesman as long as Jack is in the same company as me!
"That's wonderful, Alex."  He smiled whole heartedly, but not for the same reason he smiled at Jack.  He likes him as a salesman, but he likes me as a person.  At least more so than he likes Jack.  If it was all about personalities here, he'd so be fired.  At least that's what I think.

"How about you, Jade?  How have the customers been going for you?"
"Oh, very well, sir.  But-um-I don't know what else there is to mention...I am just a cashier, nothing else.  I don't have statistics like-um-Jack does."
She is really a very pretty girl, but she is quite shy.  I don't blame her, she's in a room full of adults.
"And how about you, Meghan, how have your ad been coming along?"
"Oh, it's going quite well, thank you.  It is for both Corrie and I.  I have a photo session planned tomorrow.  A lady will be playing the piano, and another will be lounging on it."
Mr. Simmons just loves to put girls in his ads.  He wants them all young and pretty, just looking delicate.  I don't even know what to think of it.  At least he's not married, he got divorced a long time ago.  Though it's none of my business, I think it's because she thought he was too childish.
"Oh yes-and um...I want someone to do an errannd for me in Neverglade.  I ordered some records there, and they won't bring it here unless we want to pay extra-a big amount.  Aaron said he couldn't get them to make it free for us this time."
Aaron often is able to get us reduced prices, free shipping, but aparently not this time.  Mr. Simmons is too cheap to pay for shipping.  So instead we get to drive there.  It's three hours away, a long, painful ride.  Luckily we can use the company car and he pays for gas.  It doesn't save us that much, but it still is somewhat cheaper.  Which makes sense to Mr. Simmons.
Well, my grandparents live in a nursing home in Neverglade.  It's not that they're super old and full of disease and imobile, or even that they have Alzheimers.  It's a long story...It will all become aparent sooner or later.  It was about time I paid them a visit, "I'd be willing to go, Mr. Simmons."
"Great!  You'll be leaving tomorrow, bright and early!  You just go there to get the records, and lollygag as long as you want once you're done!  Just make sure I get them tomorrow at 9:00.  I will text you the deets when you get there."
Mr. Simmons is mostly a modern old man, besides shaving, at least.  He is a strange man, and yet he doesn't understand me.  I know, it doesn't make sense, but often he doesn't make sense.
"Sounds good Mr. Simmons, thank you."
"You can take the company car whenever you're ready.  I'll pay back the gas money when you get back.  Okay, guys, this meething is ajourned.  The main thing I wished to accomplish was figuring out who would get the records, and now that is all figured out.  You may all get back to work with your regular jobs!"
As everyone left, Mr. Simmons told me, "Thank you so much for willing to take the journey to Neverglade!  It's really quite a long trip, and in thanks, I will give you the rest of the day off."

Yes!  Now I can leave, and go to the library!

I got to the library and immediatly started to look at the books to see any titles that had to do with dreams.  I picked up a book called "Dreams History in Ancient Cultures".

Intrigued, I immediatly started to skim the book. 

...Early information about the analysis of dreams comes from Mesopotamia (the land between the Tigris and Euphrates – part of what is now Iraq). The civilization that existed there around 5,000 BC left behind what is believed to be the world’s first book of dreams — a compilation of dream symbols and their meanings. Sumerians viewed their dreams as signs sent from gods. People had their dreams translated by “dream priests” who foretold the dreamer’s future...

...The Egyptians took many ideas from the Sumerians; they also viewed dreams as messages from gods and created their own Dream Book (currently part of the archives at the British Museum in London). In temples dedicated to Serapis (a Hellenistic-Egyptian god), where special dream interpreters lived, Egyptians celebrated rituals, gave sacrifices and recited prayers in hopes that their dreams would reveal fragments of the future...

The Native Americans have relied on dreams for thousands of years to give them visions to the spirit world.  Many Native Americans claim to aquire visions-a sort of dreamlike state, and in these they gain insight to their lives and what should be done.  The Ghost Dance religion started through such a visiton...

This book really fascinated me.  I spent a long time leafing through it.  I certainly am not the first to find a lot of meaning from my dreams!  That's amazing how such early civilizations could interpret them, and even more so how a sort of dream started a whole religion!  That's insane.

Then I got another book, Dreams, All You Need to Know.  I looked through this book, but I really just scanned certain sections of it.  One thing was especially interesting to me.

What is sleep paralysis?  Sleep paraysis is a period in which you are unable to voluntarily control the movements of your body. This occurs either at sleep onset or upon waking.

I continued to scan the book for a long time, though it didn't feel so while I was reading.  I looked at the clock, and it was getting really late!

After I had a late dinner by myself (yup, Marshall and Jeff were off somewhere with their ladies), I went to bed.  It was astonishly 11:00!  I went to bed with a renewed vigor to dream.

I was in a room all white, everywhere, by my feet, the walls the ceiling-I was surrounded by white.  I was the only color in the room-even the lights were extremly bright!

I was walking over to one wall.  The only thing on the wall was a single, high up small window.

And then I was walking in a hallway.  I just was continuing to walk aimlessly in front of me.  I was lacking thought.  I was walking without thinking or feeling any emotion.

I passed through the window in front of me, unfazed.  Then I walked to another small window, and appeared in another hallway.

This time I paused for a minute.  In front of me were two windows instead of one.  I passed through those windows as well.

Once I passed that window, I arrived in a room instead of a hallway.  This room had a staircase-the single piece of furniture in the room, and it had color.  I walked up the stairs as if I was breathing-being the natural thing to do.

I walked and walked aimlessly, for what felt like hours.  I continued to go through hallways and in rooms, up many staircases.  I lost track of where I was.  Whenever I neared a window, instantly I appeared on the other side of it.

And then, I neared an ending point.  The maze had ended, and I reached a dead end.  But I wasn't staring at a bright white wall.  Instead, there was a painting, the only color I've seen this whole time, besides the staircases.  I started to stare intently at it, moving my eyes up and down the lines. 

I became so transfixed with it that I sat down to continue to stare at it.  It was just so beautiful in such a strange way.  In a dream-like way, the painting seemed to speak to me.  It was the reason I was in this building in the first place.

Well, I woke up quite astonished-and kind of excited.  This dream was hazy as all my dreams are, but instead of being dark, it was just overwhelimingly bright.  It felt good to be so devoid of emotion, strangely enough.  I felt renewed.  But once I saw that painting, my mood imediatly changed, and I felt awe and I was inspired-more so than you can ever feel in waking life.  This dream must be telling me something.

This time I looked up 'white'

White represents purity, perfection, peace, innocence, dignity, cleanliness, awareness, and new beginnings. You may be experiencing a reawakening or have a fresh outlook on life.�Alternatively, white refers to a clean, blank slate. Or it may refer to a cover-up. In Eastern cultures, white is associated with death and mourning.

The only thing I can say to this is so true.  I have experienced a rebirth in my life, finally.  I have something to live for.  It may not seem like much, but they are really interesting and they will help me get through the day.
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Ok guys, that info on dreams is all true, just so you know.  I would also like to say that I didn't come up with the text from those books, except for the part about Native Americans, as I'm reading a book about them for English!

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