Wake up

My hands have long fingernails, too long for a man, too long for me. Clean and white I feel them wanting to grow. I see them growing, there's something weird about them.

I'm in a dream and can't get out. There's a girl on my couch, she sees me looking at her a little too carefully and asks me while raising one of her thin eyebrows, "What?". She's not real, she can't be real because I don't know her, only pieces of her seem familiar. A Frankenstein's beautiful monster I can not escape. She kisses me and now she looks at me with green eyes. I recognize them, they are the eyes of a girl that my former roommate when crazy over. Her lips taste of sour cherry's, that's from a girl I used to kiss in a cemetery when I was a kid.

-- You're not real, leave me alone.

She looks angry at me and gives me a slap.

I wake up.

I lay my hand on the place where my imagination gave me a slap, my face feels warm and stingy. What the hell, did I slap myself?

Next to me, a beautiful girl with dimples in her cheeks is giggling.

-- I can't believe you fell asleep on this music.

Wait this girl ... oh no it's fine I know her, I know her. I remember now, I'm at a wedding. My head is pulsing in the rhythm of the samba, my brain is sloshing around from left to right like a cup of water.

--I'm going to dance, she continued.

Opposite me, my brother's wife gives me a sign to go after the girl. I get up and go out, I need some air.

-- If you're sick you should go home.

My brother came after me.

-- Was it like this when you got married?

-- I'm not married.

I wake up.

Ohh God, if only this headache was only in my dreams. You drank last night and now you have to suffer idiot, suffer.

The digital clock next to the TV is broken I have to rely on the old dial clock in the kitchen. A couple of minutes past 7, I get dressed and start for work. I just walk out into the hallway and a neighbor sees me. I say "Morning", she just shakes her head. What? It's too late to go to work? this crazy old hag, damn her.

At the tram stop, a taxi driver waves me off so he can park his car in front of the tram. What's with all these madmen pushing me aside? I feel one of my fingers coming out of my shoe. 

I get to work and my boss puts yesterdays papers on my desk. "That's wrong," she says, tapping her finger here and there on the sheet in front of me. Ehh this old hen, doesn't she realize I didn't get much sleep last night, if she keeps going like this ... I have to. And then I see my nails, marine blue with waves drawn on them.

-- Hello, what are you doing? Day-dreaming?

-- My kitchen clock doesn't have batteries.

-- What?

-- It stopped working 2 years ago.

I wake up.

Oh brother, this is exactly what I hate about my dreams, how in the hell do you dream you go to work only to wake up and actually go to work. Next to me, my girlfriend has a sheet over her head, but her back is naked.

-- Get back to sleep, for once in your life sleep in on Sunday, she mumbles to me.

That's right, it's Sunday. I stretch back down on the bed. But I can't sleep anymore, I smack her ass and she jumps up like she got electrocuted.

--Let's do something, I say.

She drops the sheet down, kisses me lightly.

-- Okay, but first wash your teeth.

We come out on the balcony, my love lights up a cigarette, I also look for a pack. She shakes her head, she knows I don't have any cigarettes, I never do, she stretches out one of hers. I take in the first puff of smoke, is there anything smoother then that first morning smoke? A strange sense of shame embraces me, something is wrong. I look at her.

-- Didn't I quit smoking?

I wake up.

This time alone, of course alone, stupid ... ohh man, how dense can you be? Not to realize you are dreaming when you don't even have a girlfriend and there she was with her booty up in the air. And yet that cigarette woke me up, what a load of crap. 

Wet clothes are lying in the middle of the house, this infected air is giving me these dreams. I go to the bathroom and try to fill my hands with water, only the water flows through my fingers. I look at the mirror and the reflection in front of me gently shakes its head in disagreement.

Versiunea în română: Scoală