Last night I had a dream.
I dreamt that I parked my car in the compound of this large institution.
I cannot really remember what I did in the institution, but when everything ended and I went to look for my car, I could not find it anymore.
All I saw was endless rows of cars.
My car alarm failed to work despite my repeated attempts to press it.
One by one, the cars drove away, yet I could not find my car.
I felt helpless; as if I was stuck at that moment, in that scenario.
The journey ended.
Lately I have been having the strangest dreams.
Dreams of a thousand flowers sprouting from the ground.
They reminded me of a dream I had when I was seriously ill; I dreamt that I was walking in this maze etched onto the floor -- white lines on black marble.
Basically there was no way out.
And I kept walking and walking, trying my best to find the exit.
There was no end to it.
There was another occasion where I dreamt that I was dreaming.
When the dream ended, I was still dreaming.
The sense of helplessness prevails.
I've been vacilliating between the yins and the yangs.
It is never an easy task to draw the line between the black and white (and the shades of gray).
Or to stand untoppled on the balance.
But it must be done.
To me, only when one achieves the art of pivoting that one remains spinning;
spinning to gain stability yet mobile and remaining in fine balance.
Surely I cannot do this alone.
I look around.
How do I discern the grain from the chaff?