Going to Laos?

I have never been to New York City. I was there last night in a very strange dream:

I’m walking with a stranger to the subway. He explains that in order to use the (very complex) train system, you have to be able to picture the map in 3D. He demonstrates and I watch his thoughts. Whether in 2D or 3D it’s a hopeless mess to me. I tell him where I’m going and he checks the schedule. The train he’s taking to Brooklyn from platform one will continue on to my destination, namely Vientiane, which is the capital of Laos. Y’know, in Southeast Asia? Right.

He leads me down a flight of stairs to platform one. We walk the length of platform one to another set of stairs, which arc up and over the tracks to platform two. We walk back along the length of platform two to another set of steps, which lead to the other side of platform one. See? Simple!

We wait on platform one for the train to Brooklyn/Laos. A train heading to Laos arrives at the station, but it’s not routed via Brooklyn. So I let if pass in order to keep traveling with this helpful stranger. No trains come for a really long time; there’s been some sort of delay or accident down the line. Eventually an open-air train (it’s more like a cart) rolls into the station. It sells food, and offers about four stools on which patrons can sit while they dine their way home. It’s called the DNA train, which somehow stands for Delicious Nutritious Food. It’s going to Laos too, but I’m smart enough to realize that it will take forever and a day to get there. So I keep waiting.

Eventually a train shows up that’s going to Brooklyn but not Laos. My traveling companion boards and we bid a sad farewell. I thank him for traveling with me, but do not say, “Let’s keep in touch” because that would be a lie.

The train departs and I wait. I realize that there’s probably a train for Laos on another platform, but the system is so complicated that I can’t figure out how to read the schedule let alone how to find the appropriate platform. So I wait…

And that’s about how I feel: a little lost, a little confused. When mum visited in December, she brought with her a recording that I made when I was 10. In it, I proudly proclaim that when I grow up, I’m going to be an author and a poet and an actress. I think I’ve always known what I wanted to be when I grew up. Always, that is, until now. Suddenly, I have no clue. And I’m stuck in NYC trying to catch a train to Laos.