I can't remember what I came to blog about. It was going to be something good...

In any case, I finally found the nerve to speak up and talk to my favorite oboe guy. Leonid, to be exact. Actually, we never introduced each other, we just talked about whether or not we got our notices in the mail yet from the other orchestra. Neither one of us have. But, I finally got to say what I've been wanting to say to him for the longest time: I love your playing, it always sounds beautiful. It feels good to get that out. I just felt like he had to know. I think he appreciated it.

So I lost my rehearsal space at work. We have this great sound room at work that I've been practicing in, but it recently got rented out, so I'm out of a space. Today I was practicing in my office when suddenly I hear the main door open and shut. I figure, if they want to, they'll come poke their head in to say hello. So I keep practicing. And who of all people pokes their head through the door? None other than THE BIG BOSS. Boy, was I embarrased. Why, you ask? I'm not really sure, but I was just embarrassed. I'm sure the owner of the company wasn't expecting anyone at work, much less, anyone practicing in one of his offices. Oh well. C'est la vie.

Oh yes, I just remembered what I came to blog about: Dreams. Isn't it strange how you can have such strong feelings and emotions in dreams? I can still remember how I felt in a dream from 5 years ago. I was about to die from driving off a freeway on ramp.

It's just so odd to me that our bodies can be lying perfect still in one world, yet our brain can be experiencing all sorts of things in another world. Last night I shot someone in the head and I saw part of their bloody caved-in head. Even now, typing out that sentence, I can still feel this sense of horror and guilt at having shot this person, and knowing that she was going to die. However, last night I also met Save Ferris in person, and in that world, they were supposedly my favorite band of all time (which is weird because I haven't listened to a Save Ferris song in how long??). I was ecstatic to be meeting them.

These are just words: horror, guilt, ecstatic. But what I felt from last night's dream was way beyond what language is capable of describing. How is it possible for us to have these emotions in our dreams if we've never experienced these emotions in real life?

I don't know what it's like to shoot someone, but I sure did last night. How does my brain know how to feel if it's not really happening? Are dreams some sort of loophole in the matrix of things? How do I know that I'm not dreaming right now, and in fact, I really shot someone in real life last night? Or maybe dreams are when we unplug out of the matrix? I've gotta watch that movie again...