A Cheating Reality

Late last night, Diana and I stopped by the nearby Blockbuster to rent The Great Gatsby so that we could get some ideas for her paper and also since I needed a refresher, not having read the book in no less than 6 years.

The guy there said that he had a copy on VHS and I had to think about if I even had a VHS player. I don't. In the days of DivX and mp3, anything less than DVD was antiquated technology. Fortunately for us, they also had a copy on DVD.

This version of the film starring Robert Redford and Mia Farrow turned out to be pretty good. The screenplay was adapted by Francis Ford Coppola and the directing captured a roaring 1920's quite well. I got caught up in the tragic love story and it rehashed my fond memories of reading the book in high school.

This morning, I woke up from a dream that felt as if it lingered into reality. I don't quite remember what the dream was but my whole day seemed to have been caught up in this weird dreamy state. Even as I drove into work I felt the the artificialness of a bright, warm yellow sun and the ease of which I dodged around traffic to get to work slightly late but on time on FeiTime.

At work, I was sent out early to pick up food for the team. We decided on ordering from Chipotle instead of our normal routine of Mediterranean Cafe. Oddly, as I had left the restaurant with my orders, I came by the girl that works at the Mediterranean Cafe and we nodded in acknowledgement. I know her from all the times I had picked up orders in the past but on this night, I felt as if I had just cheated on her. She's one of those people that go about your normal life and traverses the line between what one might call an acquaintance and a complete stranger. Tonight, it felt much more like the later. By the time I made it back to work with our dinners, the dream effect had finally worn off and it was right back to the daily grind.

Fei-O-Meter
Activity: 1 | Energy: 2 | Friends: 1



the final lines of the novel, The Great Gatsby

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And then one fine morning--
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.