onceleenalivedhere

August 6th, 2025 Late morning, somewhere between sleep and memory I saw him again. It started in that strange, knowing way dreams sometimes do—where I already knew something terrible had happened, or was about to. Baba was sick. Really sick. The kind of sick where you brace yourself for a phone call or a final breath. But he didn’t die. Not in this dream. He survived. And it felt like the whole house had been holding its breath with him. It was around 11 a.m. when I finally woke up in the dream—late, lazy, almost guilty. The house was quiet in that odd way that makes you feel like you’ve missed something. I walked into Baba’s room, expecting to find him resting or weak—but he was there, standing, dressed in the brightest white suit I’ve ever seen. Like it had been stitched from light itself. He was getting ready for work, which was strange. He always used to leave by 9 a.m. sharp, never later. Routine was sacred to him. But there he was—late and glowing—and somehow, I didn’t que...

August 4th, 2025 Right before waking I don’t know if I dreamed this before… or if my dream told me I did. But it felt familiar—like I’d already lived it once, or maybe several times. I was at the hospital, even though I was perfectly fine. Nothing hurt, nothing felt wrong—until it suddenly did. I started shivering out of nowhere. The doctors noticed, and just like that, I was being booked for a test. Not an ordinary test. Something... strange. Clinical, but cold. Almost like I was being sorted. There were colors—red, blue, green. I don’t remember which one I got, but I know it wasn’t blue. Blue feels peaceful. Safe. Maybe blue meant “you’re okay.” And I wasn’t okay. They asked me to cut my nails before the test. Last time, I think I did. This time, I didn’t want to. I told them I didn’t have a nail cutter, even though I did. I just didn’t want to comply. I don’t even know why. Maybe because something in me needed to rebel, to stay untouched in a place that felt too invasive. T...