Those of you who really know me,
You know how much I’m infatuated with Marilyn Monroe.
I adore the legendary, fragile woman.
I really think she was way smarter and more intelligent
than what she projected to people.

Anyway, I dreamt of her last night.
I am writing it here because it was very cool, like a movie.
Well, not really a movie, but maybe a quick TV story.

You are not obliged to read to the end of this post,
but if you are still reading this, then read on.
I’ll tell you how it went.

The setting in my dream was at a party.
Like a dinner event, and she was a guest.
I don’t even know why I was there.
I just happened to be there.
You know how dreams are.

I saw her right in the middle of the room.
Out on the dance floor, wearing her famous white dress.
The dress she wore on that famous skirt scene on “The Seven Year Itch.”
Looking as radiant as ever.
Well, not exactly that dress, but something similar to that.
That’s how I saw her.
You know how dreams are.

But she was supposed to perform.
She was supposed to dance with someone,
but her partner wasn’t there.
He was nowhere to be found
and Marilyn went around the room looking for this guy.
Pacing back and forth, looking all worried.

She walked and passed in front of me, still looking for her partner,
But on her way back, she grabbed my hand and wanted me to dance with her.
I’m not kidding you. Of course I was the star of this story.
You know how dreams are.

So she dragged me all the way to the dance floor
I was both terrified and elated at the same time
being held by the most beautiful woman ever to grace the big screen.
She told me, “You’ll be my partner, just follow my lead.”
Or something like that, I’m not so sure
I was in shock, but I understood what she meant.

I remember thinking that I haven’t danced in ages,
but I seemed to know what I was doing.
I believe it was a bit of Ballroom with a hint of Cha Cha.
I was doing alright, I guess.
You know how dreams are.

But while we were dancing,
she kept reaching for my hand and beating it to her chest.
I pulled back my hand of course, but she kept on hitting her chest with my arm.
I looked at her face and stared. It was the first time I stared at it.

And from all of the pictures I have seen of her that could show up in this dream,
I saw the most sad face painted all over her.
As she lets go of my arm and collapsed right in front of me.
I was holding her as I try to figure out what was wrong.
Marilyn died in my arms, as the people around us were in hysterics.
I do remember shouting for help, as I stare at her sad face.

I know you would say, this is the most ridiculous thing you’ve read,
and I may be just making this up.
I am not.
Just bear with me, there’s more.
I told you, I am the star of this dream.

The next scene was me kneeling by her grave.
Not really a grave, but I know it’s where her body was in.
It’s more of a wooden crate, like how they ship cargo in the old days.
I don’t know why that is, it just was.
You know how dreams are.

I kneeled in front of Marilyn’s crate and leaned my head against it.
In my mind this is just what I do, day after day.
I also saw that I have a friend who stays there with me.
He doesn’t go there for Marilyn.
He stays there for me, standing behind, making sure I was okay.

In my mind, everybody knew how traumatized I was
and how much I admired her.
So this friend stays with me every time I visit Marilyn’s grave.
I just see him every time I look up. Day after day.
I don’t even know his name but I knew he cared for me too.

Then, what seemed like any other day,
I was kneeling and leaning my head on her grave, like I always do,
I looked up, but this time, I see my friend kneeling beside me.
He surprised me a bit, wondering what he was doing by the grave.

He was obviously crying and there were people behind him consoling him too.
Then I got confused as to why was he so upset all of a sudden.
And as I look at Marilyn’s grave,
it wasn’t hers.

It was mine.

The next scene was just me,
walking backwards and seeing the whole area.
Then I woke up.

Ha! See?
I told you, I was the star of this dream.
Get it? I died there.
I died with a broken heart.
At Marilyn’s grave.
That was a good twist.

This could be a TV Movie.
I could get M. Shyamalan to direct it.
I don’t know who will play as Marilyn though
but I’ll tell you who I want to play as me.
Tyrion Lannister.

I kid. I kid.
Here’s a little fact about my infatuation with Marilyn.
I remember when I was younger, I have vowed that when I die,
I will look for her and introduce myself.
Well, that’s assuming I will go to the same place as her.

Also, it’s funny how I can never watch a whole Marilyn movie.
I have seen thousands of her pictures but I can’t sit down to watch her movie.
I’ve tried. But my heart can’t take the sadness.
I just can’t.
Isn’t that weird?

A lot of people make fun of me for adoring her.
And tells me how fake she is and tells me her faults.
That she’s just another dumb actress.

Well. It has been decades since she passed away
and we’re still talking about her.
She conquered the world. Even through time.
I don’t think that is dumb at all.