Dreamed in a exhausted stupor on my flight from Honolulu to Tokyo:
I am on a beach promenade in a golf cart driven by my 83-year-old mother-in-law. I am wondering if she knows how to drive it, as she keeps having near-misses with tourist paparazzi. I explain to them that she’s old.
We drive into what looks like a hotel corridor, and keep going until we arrive at some stairs going down. We get out, I fold up the golf cart – nearby people applaud the fact that it’s a foldable golf cart. We walk from there, and it’s not easy as the corridor and the stairs are filled with people taking photos of each other with grotesque smiles. It seems to be a contest of some kind. We go outside into the street, I see a bus plastered in luminous blue signs advertising the smiling-photo contest, apparently organized by a local TV or radio station.
I wake up briefly on the airplane, fall asleep without realizing it – I look out the window and see what looks like Shanghai, but we’re flying way too low, between buildings. I realize I’m not on the plane but on a high-speed elevated train – a monorail that winds through the city like a rollercoaster.
Scene shifts – I’m off the monorail and in the streets of Shanghai in the company of a local, a man with a round head and thick glasses. He is urging me along agitatedly as if we’re in a big hurry. I notice I’m carrying a bag of vomit. He says it’s mine – apparently I caused a scene earlier. I tell him I don't remember anything. I’m looking for someplace to throw away the bag, he says I have to hold on to it.
We stop somewhere to eat. I have to hang the vomit bag on a peg by the counter. We finish eating and walk under the monorail track to catch a bus waiting at a bus stop. I see a rubbish bin and throw the vomit bag away – to hell with it, I think. The bus fare is 150 yuan. There’s some confusion because the bus conductor appears to be waving us onboard to pay, then telling us we can’t board until we pay.
And then I woke up.
BONUS RANDOM IMAGES:
Ticket to ride,
This is dF
I am on a beach promenade in a golf cart driven by my 83-year-old mother-in-law. I am wondering if she knows how to drive it, as she keeps having near-misses with tourist paparazzi. I explain to them that she’s old.
We drive into what looks like a hotel corridor, and keep going until we arrive at some stairs going down. We get out, I fold up the golf cart – nearby people applaud the fact that it’s a foldable golf cart. We walk from there, and it’s not easy as the corridor and the stairs are filled with people taking photos of each other with grotesque smiles. It seems to be a contest of some kind. We go outside into the street, I see a bus plastered in luminous blue signs advertising the smiling-photo contest, apparently organized by a local TV or radio station.
I wake up briefly on the airplane, fall asleep without realizing it – I look out the window and see what looks like Shanghai, but we’re flying way too low, between buildings. I realize I’m not on the plane but on a high-speed elevated train – a monorail that winds through the city like a rollercoaster.
Scene shifts – I’m off the monorail and in the streets of Shanghai in the company of a local, a man with a round head and thick glasses. He is urging me along agitatedly as if we’re in a big hurry. I notice I’m carrying a bag of vomit. He says it’s mine – apparently I caused a scene earlier. I tell him I don't remember anything. I’m looking for someplace to throw away the bag, he says I have to hold on to it.
We stop somewhere to eat. I have to hang the vomit bag on a peg by the counter. We finish eating and walk under the monorail track to catch a bus waiting at a bus stop. I see a rubbish bin and throw the vomit bag away – to hell with it, I think. The bus fare is 150 yuan. There’s some confusion because the bus conductor appears to be waving us onboard to pay, then telling us we can’t board until we pay.
And then I woke up.
BONUS RANDOM IMAGES:
- A dog disguised as a ferret (or vice versa)
- An interactive UHT box of milk with buttons on it
- An inflatable face mask, but one I can’t wear because if I do the police will spot me when I land in Tokyo.
- A man dressed as a rogue priest (with a big floppy hat) massaging a loaf of Wonder Bread in my lap.
Ticket to ride,
This is dF