Spock Misses The Point

Two nights ago I dreamt that I went back to an old place I lived in.  For some reason I temporarily moved back to my old place.  Seemed like I was house sitting, for whom I don’t know.  Felt kinda weird, like I didn’t know why I was there, like I didn’t belong there, but yet strangely comforting.  I guess this isn’t unlike revisiting an old school, or just revisiting the past in general, when you’ve clearly moved on.  Anyway, I ended up walking around the old neighbourhood in search of something.  Old memories perhaps.  Then I realised that I hadn’t locked the front door.  So I raced back, only to find that people who are supposed to be old school friends (though I don’t recognise any of them) were inside.  I said to them, “So, what’s the verdict?”  They shook their heads.  I said, “No more Crowie?”  Crowie is the nick name of my old high school, Crows Nest Boys High.  “No more Erko.”, they said.  Erko is the nick name of the suburb of this old place.  It’s short for Erskineville.  “Oh yeah, that’s what I meant, no more Erko.”, I replied even more confused.  And we just sat there, feeling rather down, mourning the loss of old places, and reliving the old memories in our own spaces.  Nobody said anything after that.  Nobody wanted to leave.  So we just sat there, silent, soaking in whatever it was we were trying to soak in.  It was quite a moment.  And then I was woken up by a phone call from a charity asking for money.  I told him I’d rather go back to sleep.  He apologised and hung up.  By then it was too late.

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