The Return of the Goth King…
Okay, so here’s how this goes. Research says we spend one-third of our lives dreaming. They’re still very much a mystery, but for long they have been thought to reflect our latent desires, fears etc. Now, I don’t know why, Robert Smith of The Cure seems to be the manifestation of that in my dream world. To read about my previous meeting with him, in which we almost got married, and he turned into a werewolf, click here. Today, the dynamic was slightly different, but even then, his occupation in my psyche is starting to get curiouser and curiouser.
And I see no cure in sight, as Mr. Smith is happily married and completely unreachable to no-name me. The only cure I can think of, and that too after reading that 99% of medicines in the world only work about 30%, is that I have decided to procure The Cure’s discography, and drown myself in the curiness to be hopefully, uh, cured. They don’t know me, and I was born too far and too late, but their name was never more apt than in my case.
Here’s what hailed the return of the Goth King in my dreams:
Just a regulation school dream as most people dream from time to time. You know, bumping into an old friend, even though you are both somehow fifteen and still in uniform. Or writing a Maths test and failing, or being late and failing, or writing the exam without being able to comprehend parallelograms etc, only to wake up and find, that’s not your life anymore. Although, perhaps you’d still fail if you had to take it.
But, this school dream was different. Lately, I’ve been noticing children a lot. I’ve always adored kids, but I suppose my latent maternal desires are starting to be not so latent anymore. And it’s perfectly normal for a 27 year old woman to feel that way, no complicated psyche there. Yesterday, I was wondering what it would be like to be a teenager ten or fifteen years from now. I was one, ten years ago. I see teenagers nowadays and they are SCARY. They are four-times-amplified sophisticated than those of my generation. If I have a teenage child in fifteen or twenty years, I wouldn’t even know what to do! I might become totally redundant, and he or she will totally hippify that word and say, “Mom, you’re so redun’…” Aaaaaaaaah!
Of course, my psyche had to pick up that day-mare and present me an actually futuristic teenage experience, except I was the teenager. I was in this school with artificially constructed greenery around, in that futuristic way that sci-fi movies have them, where you can’t tell the concrete from the titanium from the trees. I had gone to get my report card, presumably for a biggish board exam I’d taken before (I doubt those would ever go away, wherever I land up).
Except, this report card was actually a glossy magazine type of thing. I remember Biology being on the first page, except all the numbers were split up to “30, 33” etc, so I couldn’t tell if I had passed or not. Apparently, that isn’t sophisticated enough for the future, and in the very next page, it showed my marks, along with a photograph, in the subject of – Jumping Into A Swimming Pool Wearing A Sari. The future seems to test all sorts of skills among teenagers. By this time, all my friends were laughing at me. I had been late, they had already read their reports, and were teasing me knowingly.
“And I ran, I ran so far away, I just ran…” Oops, wrong 80’s rock group. But, I did run, and in the concrete gardens, I encountered Robert Smith, this time looking like himself in “The Lovecats” video. Such a relief, seeing a familiar face! We hugged, we talked…about stuff I can’t tell you, but suddenly a futuristic school dream turned into a surreal Before Sunrise type of love story. The Goth King helped me back into The Shire, and I woke up a happy hobbit.
I am a casual The Cure fan. I’ve liked them for years, and know a few of their songs. I may have listened to their album Disintegration a few times, but I know nothing, and feel negligibly, in my waking days for Robert Smith for him to be, literally, the man in my dreams. I feel it is time to investigate by immersing myself in their music, and see if these dreams will ever make sense to me. Till then, can any The Cure fans here recommend where I should start?
Previous weird dream: Of Weird Dreams – Redux