An Unaccomplished Day...

Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their direct exercise, incapable of his own help and own happiness, sensible of the blight on him, and resigning himself to let it eat him away.
Extract from 'A Tale of Two Cities' Charles Dickens.

I woke up this morning from a weird dream. Actually, I woke up this afternoon at about one thirty. The drinking from the previous night has done crazy things to my mind and body. For the first few times in my life, I felt weak, as if every ounce of strength was slipping from my body. It took me a few minutes before I could muster the energy to crawl out of bed. I think it was the dream that made me weak, but I’ll rather prefer to blame it on the boozing. Here is one of the fragments I recall:

It is one of those dreams which drone a hazy background. I couldn’t make anything of the distant horizon. Er…perhaps the primary focus was in the foreground. And there was a girl. From a first person’s perspective, she is in front of me, at a distance of less than 3 feet. However, her face remains a blurry fuzz, although it is tan and covered with wavy locks to her shoulders. Her figure is decent enough, complete with sizable tits and averagely curved hips. She was wearing a tight black halter top and low waist jeans. She bears no resemblance to anyone I know.

‘You are tempting me’ she says.
And then I draw closer to her, as if going to kiss her. Her face remains undistinguishable all this time. Then I push her away at the very last second before the kiss is delivered. Now I see her eyes…soft Asian eyes now wide open with shock and screaming of betrayal. I gave her a disgusting reply.

‘Yes, I am tempting you.’
With that, I burst out laughing and started kissing her fervently. That second of fear of being toyed with seemed to have heightened her passion. The only question I had for myself right then was: ‘Are you? Or are you not?’
And the dream moved on to another fragment which I cannot remember with as much detail. I find it noteworthy to mention, it wasn’t a liquid dream or even close to it.

I haven’t at this point of time quite thought of how to link the dream with the Dicken’s extract. In fact, I didn’t exactly plan to. I just thought it made quite a fitting description of someone like me. But dream or no dream, tale or no tale, the vacation goes on…even after this semester’s results come out tomorrow.