Had a bunch of whacked dreams last night. First one; I’m in Baghdad, Iraq. Me and some other dude are walking to some capital building, and I’m feeling scared as hell someone is going to bomb us. I wasn’t in Israel, but I still get the same feeling probably because a cool co-worker is heading to Israel soon with his family, and I worry about him. I see this pretty girl and her friends, and we ask for directions. She, in slightly accented English, asks where I am from. I say America weakly. She suddenly moves about a centimeter back, and mouths “oh” like she is disappointed and saddened. Instead of wanting someone to like me, I feel like I want her to like my country. I get really frustrated. She starts to leave and I think she gives me something, like a postcard or somesuch. I say wait, and struggle to find something worthwhile in my backpack. I procure my hackysack, and explain it’s very American, and we “chill together” with it back home. I feel like I’m trying to prove we’re not all bad, but instead just end up sounding apologetic, and I hated that feeling.

2 Replies to “Insecurity”

Comments are closed.