I’m constantly traveling in my dreams. And it’s not the good kind of traveling, where you get to visit someplace new and/or interesting, 99% of the time it’s the ordinary everdayness of a public transportation commute. I’m riding the bus, riding the train, wandering through a train station trying to figure out where I’m supposed to be, etc. If I’m in a car, I’m always a passenger. I’m never behind the wheel, never in control. If one wanted to interpret this, one could say I am riding through life passively, without actively choosing a direction of travel. I’m either reluctant to take the wheel, or if I did, where would I go? I’m riding back and forth all night long, never arriving at my destination, not even knowing where my destination is. That interpretation feels like a big ol’ “DUH” because it fits in so nicely with my constant state of wondering what my purpose in life is. I’m wandering around in my life worrying about what I should be doing instead of what I AM doing, which feels like nothing.
But then sometimes I also dream about waiting in line at Dunkin’ Donuts with John Taylor and I don’t worry so much about that.