190110421 Star 李星熠
It was a quiet midnight; stars shone in the sky without any clouds. From the window came the occasional sound of a car crossing the road. After tuning off the lamps, I lay on my bed with thousands of troubled thoughts. Though it was 1PM, I still could not fall asleep. Getting up from the bed, I picked up a book—Dream-Seeker. It seemed quite old; even the pages had turned yellow. However, it was strange that I’d never bought it, at least I couldn’t remember anything about the book.
‘Welcome to the Dreamland. We’ll provide any dreams if you want,” read its title page in beautiful squiggles. Dreams? Everyone has dreams, and there is no need for you to provide it. With such curiosity, I began to read. Suddenly, the letters jumped out of the page, floated in the air, and then it made a sentence: What’s your dream? What do you always do every day?
I was surprised, not by the sentences, but its sharp questions. It seemed to take it for granted that I should have a dream, yet I couldn’t answer these questions. I had always had lots of dreams, such as to be a scientist or a writer. But now I didn’t know. I was lost in the society and had lost my dream. The more money, the better; the higher status, the better. As long as I could get these, no matter how much time and energy to cost, I didn’t care. However, perhaps I did once have a dream, I had wanted to be a photographer, a light and shadow artist. But in reality, I hadn’t even touched my camera for a long time because of my busy, boring life. What did I do every day? Have lessons? Do my homework? Watch cartoons? It seemed that it was these things that were taking up most of my time. Poor life!
When I thought of these questions, I felt a gentle push on my shoulder and then a voice came: Let me take you to my world. At the same time, I was pulled into the book; yes, it was true that I was in the book now.
Opening my eyes and looking around, what I saw was an old European square. Gentle light hit on the spray fountain, making the water glint and ripple. A rococo church stood behind the fountain while several people were walking through the gate. The whole square was of a harmonious atmosphere. What a romantic place! But why did the person next to me look like another me?
‘Who are you?’ I asked, staring at her.
‘I am you; another you who has already reached my dream, to be a photographer,’ she replied.
‘Well, how’s everything going? Are you wealthy? Are you happy?’ I knew it was not real, this world; the square was fake, but I still wanted to have a discussion with my “dear another me”.
She didn’t reply to me, but picked up my hand and took me into the church. Light coming through the rose windows left colorful shadows on the ground, dust floating in the air, the inscription on the tall ancient Roman column seemed to be quietly whispering secrets of history. The whole church was immersed in a solemn quiet and peaceful atmosphere. Then my friend gave me a camera; it was a film camera which all photos needed to be taken by feeling.
‘Have a try. Take your photos, record your emotion, do not use your eyes but your heart,” she suggested to me.
For the first time, I understood what it was to record the beauty of life. Photography, the art, was just itself, not for anything else. And for the first time, I felt that I was living for myself.
After taking photos, she took me to a small shop at the street corner. There, we got these photos developed. In the photos, I saw my dream glinting; it appeared and lived.
‘Why not have a try since that you are so curious about this world. Let’s exchange our bodies, I will take your burden, and you will take my place. This is your dreamland; you are the master of this space. There’s no stress, no unluckiness and indifference.’ Another me said.
Have a try? Then I could escape from the real life, away from the busy work and trivial cases. I had curbed my nature and eventually lost lots of wonderful things. ‘Maybe to live in the dream is better,’ I thought. I wanted to find my nature, my hobbies, my dream, my originality.
‘Give me your hand.’ Again, she picked up my hand, and I felt that at that time, I was flying through the clouds in the sky or swimming among the fish in the sea. Then I felt a bright light which made me open my eyes.
I was still on my bed while the day had dawned, and the lamp that lit my dark corner was out. The book was gone, and I held some pictures in my hand. What had happened was just a dream? Whatever, I had found my dream and would insist on it.
Since that night, I’ve never met “dear another me” even in my dreams. But I know she’s real for the photos are still on my desk, reminding me of my dream and originality.