Sunday, August 8, 2010


Last night, I had a dream within a dream. No lie, it was like inception. I dreamed there was a flood and everything was destroyed. We were living in these falling apart buildings and i was watching alot of children. They all fell asleep and dreamed of their bedrooms before the flood. I was in their dream, slowly creeping around. In Their dream they had pretty normal, American kids bedrooms. Actually the girl bedroom was something like my bedroom when i was 5. The kids were in shock at how beautiful it was. They had forgotten how amazing. They played with their old toys, and just walked around the rooms, unable to believe that all the beauty was just for them. And i was worried that when the kids woke up from their dream, in the broken down house with no toys, they would cry. But then i woke up.

And I woke up thinking of the orphans in Kaluga, in Moscow. It infinitely and incredibly bothers me, that they do not have what we have. As a culture, as a society. I feel this great, THEY SHOULD feeling, that i've never felt before. I didn't feel it in Russia the first time, or in Peru. Peru, for some reason, upset me at the absolute extravagance of Americans.
This time i feel quite the opposite. I understand our extravagance. We are the product of our very rich culture. We can afford to do it. But i feel that there is something incredibly wrong... and evil with the situation in Russia. The people have a right to be free. They have a right to a free market. They have a right to work hard and expect good pay. And the image in my dream, of the beautiful bedrooms, is so haunting. And i woke up in my bedroom, more beautiful than most of my friends in Russia could even realize. and i feel frustrated. I feel completely bothered, that there is no reason i have this, and my good friends cannot. Even though they be doctors or professional financiers, and I might just teach music lessons.
This is difficult.
But there are words painted as a border around the top of my bedroom walls. They read:

Do you hear the people sing
lost in the valley of the night
it is the music of a people
who are climbing to the light
for the wretched of the earth
there is a flame that never dies
even the darkest night will end
and the sun will rise
they will live again in freedom
in the garden of the Lord
they will walk behind the ploughshare
they will put away the sword
the chain will be broken and
all men will have their reward

Les Miserables

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