If I were to be reborn as someone else, in another time, in another world and in another reality, I would definitely be a kung fu master. I'd be a horrible student at first, I'd be lazy and I'd avoid all conflict, but in the end, I'd be doing some serious ass whooping. I wouldn't have a choice, since I'd have to defend my life, my family and, ultimately, my honour.
I just love dreaming kung fu stuff. I gotta say that I love dreaming isn't a sentence you'd often hear from me, probably because I've been having nightmares for years now and every time I lay my head I can only hope this one won't cause me a mild stroke in my sleep.
But dreaming kung fu style [which I obviously can't find another name for] is seriously enthralling. I have a feeling that I have a smile on my face, even if I'm in a deadly dangerous situation in my sleep.
It's interesting that I'm very keen in my dreams. Very poignant, agile and sly - none of which I am in my boring, real life. This time I'm a family guys and from as much as I can figure out (since there's usually more than one dream entwined in my head), I'm sort of a family guy, dealing with heritage stuff - armours on the wall and all. Or maybe it's just the time.
I'm in my house and there's a couple of people around me. Members of my family, but also some staff which obviously makes the house look the way it does. Cozy, but kind of dark, with green popping out of every corner, making my study look like a fostered little jungle.
There's someone at the door and I find myself in the hallway. I don't know why (since I have staff to do it), but I'm that nice and I just keep talking to the weird-looking guy standing in front of me. He's asking for something and I'm all super nice about it (just the way that I am...), but the others have this terrified look on their faces.
I seem not to be bothered by it and go for my study to pick up whatever this guy was looking for. As I'm turning my back towards the whole bunch in the hallway and leaving, there's a whole swap mission going on in there. As if it were a theatre and the whole stage had to be changed for the short period that the curtain is down. Or by the time I return.
The gut feeling that I posses in my real life is obviously left out in my dream because I'm quite nonchalant about the whole story and I'm not even bothered a bit that someone came to my home to assassin me and most probably everything I care for. Even the armours on the wall.
To my own surprise, I end up with some giant chop sticks (and a bunch of them) and squat behind a pretty bush palm tree. It's in the corner of my study, so I couldn't be seen from the outside, even though there's a whole glass wall opening up towards to (again, very green) garden.
Maybe it's the drama or maybe it's just me, but the uninvited guest didn't prefer the common way to enter my study (meaning the doors), but came in with a crash, breaking the whole glass construction which used to separate the inner from the outer jungle.
So there we are, two (obviously) übercool kung fu guys, starting a fight with giant chopsticks about something that no one really knows about. Probably something that we heard about from our grandparents' neighbours' herbalist or whatever, but it seems to be very important, because there's a bunch of chopsticks in my hands and I'm all up for a fight.
Having as much bad luck in my life as I do (I'm just an Oh, bollocks! kind of a guy), this is where I wake up. No Kill-Bill fights, no heads flying around, no revenge on a bad-ass yellow bike - nothing.
The last thing I remember is evicting the members of my household that were, surprisingly, still standing on the door and [more than obviously] enjoying the fight. Maybe it's the era, maybe it's the honour, maybe it's Japan. I don't know.
But it sure as hell would be cool to be a bad-ass kung fu master!
I just love dreaming kung fu stuff. I gotta say that I love dreaming isn't a sentence you'd often hear from me, probably because I've been having nightmares for years now and every time I lay my head I can only hope this one won't cause me a mild stroke in my sleep.
But dreaming kung fu style [which I obviously can't find another name for] is seriously enthralling. I have a feeling that I have a smile on my face, even if I'm in a deadly dangerous situation in my sleep.
It's interesting that I'm very keen in my dreams. Very poignant, agile and sly - none of which I am in my boring, real life. This time I'm a family guys and from as much as I can figure out (since there's usually more than one dream entwined in my head), I'm sort of a family guy, dealing with heritage stuff - armours on the wall and all. Or maybe it's just the time.
I'm in my house and there's a couple of people around me. Members of my family, but also some staff which obviously makes the house look the way it does. Cozy, but kind of dark, with green popping out of every corner, making my study look like a fostered little jungle.
There's someone at the door and I find myself in the hallway. I don't know why (since I have staff to do it), but I'm that nice and I just keep talking to the weird-looking guy standing in front of me. He's asking for something and I'm all super nice about it (just the way that I am...), but the others have this terrified look on their faces.
I seem not to be bothered by it and go for my study to pick up whatever this guy was looking for. As I'm turning my back towards the whole bunch in the hallway and leaving, there's a whole swap mission going on in there. As if it were a theatre and the whole stage had to be changed for the short period that the curtain is down. Or by the time I return.
The gut feeling that I posses in my real life is obviously left out in my dream because I'm quite nonchalant about the whole story and I'm not even bothered a bit that someone came to my home to assassin me and most probably everything I care for. Even the armours on the wall.
To my own surprise, I end up with some giant chop sticks (and a bunch of them) and squat behind a pretty bush palm tree. It's in the corner of my study, so I couldn't be seen from the outside, even though there's a whole glass wall opening up towards to (again, very green) garden.
Maybe it's the drama or maybe it's just me, but the uninvited guest didn't prefer the common way to enter my study (meaning the doors), but came in with a crash, breaking the whole glass construction which used to separate the inner from the outer jungle.
So there we are, two (obviously) übercool kung fu guys, starting a fight with giant chopsticks about something that no one really knows about. Probably something that we heard about from our grandparents' neighbours' herbalist or whatever, but it seems to be very important, because there's a bunch of chopsticks in my hands and I'm all up for a fight.
Having as much bad luck in my life as I do (I'm just an Oh, bollocks! kind of a guy), this is where I wake up. No Kill-Bill fights, no heads flying around, no revenge on a bad-ass yellow bike - nothing.
The last thing I remember is evicting the members of my household that were, surprisingly, still standing on the door and [more than obviously] enjoying the fight. Maybe it's the era, maybe it's the honour, maybe it's Japan. I don't know.
But it sure as hell would be cool to be a bad-ass kung fu master!
Here's a photo that has nothing to do with the story, but has chopsticks in it.
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