i had a dream where i was on an old-fashioned bus, going to a foreboding destination that i did not know about. the year seemed around the time 1946.. as i sat looking down at my gloved hands i look to observe the back of the heads of men and women calmly sitting in their seats. dressed in dapper, elegant, vintage attire. in their laps and stored above their heads were suitcases and duffle bags filled with their personal belongings. i lower my head to help myself quietly attend to my own business; trying to calm my flaming exterior and soothe my mind for the moments that lay ahead. to my left, i suddenly detected a grown, black business man quietly sobbing. he is the only man that i am sharing the last seat with as i turn to look intensely in his direction under my lowered gaze. he is sitting, elegantly dressed in handsome classic attire. under quiet sobs .." you know how it makes a man feel when you spend your entire life savings on this coat just so she can see you in it? just so you can make her feel proud. and now, ..all of this doesn't matter. all of this is being taken as if she will never even notice me"...already filled with intense passion my eyes start to soften under my pounding chest. keeping my head lowered as not to be detected, i mumbled in a quickened frenzy, "hurry... just take it from your duffle bag. i wont tell anyone. just hurry quickly..they wont suspect it". i seemed to be the only one on this bus besides him who showed any signs of emotion. it was as if the passengers were in a daze quietly accepting their fate, even if they did not know what that was. in my dream i already carried the suspicion with me that the place i was going, i will never come back from. a voice comes on from the intercom as a pleasant, controlling drone. i began to stare down the barrel of the hallway of the bus and my eyes pass to each and every passenger. "make sure to leave your belongings with us, as you'll not need them anymore. do not carry your identification cards. violators with id cards will be arrested.." i quickly look over to him as he is the only one on the bus rummaging through his bags. in panicked urgency i quickly shot him a last stare and mumbled under my breath, ".. were about to come to the place. quickly..hide it!" . my eyes dart straight ahead, and my face creates a dead pan look as i instigate my mind to melt into a drone-like stare. i zip up my white knitted, trench jacket. pull over the hood and prepare to assimilate that i never have "spoken" with him before. I am the only one on the bus that seems to have a touch of compassion and subdued, yet intensified feelings. in my dream, i am urging myself not to make it obvious as they will surely detect my suspicions once i get off the bus.. i slowly felt through my waist under my coat, lay a small plastic license card. standing up as the bus came to a quickening halt, i hurried down the center hallway through the violently opened bus door way, as if i did not make myself obvious enough. i made it as the first one out. i feel the rain hit the top layer of my jacket and the inside where my body is encased, started to feel the heat of humidity. as i am rushing away my mind and heart are alert like piercing arrows, lingering in the air still open to any sign of their detection and arrest. my ears suddenly pipe up to hear a halting yell as i turn to see men and women slowly filing out and the husky, handsome, well-dressed, troubled man i once talked to stop for questioning. they found him out. my eyes start to soften and my heart starts to swell with compassion and pain. "the poor man.." my mind began to wander. but i quickly fight against it and turn away. they mustn't see me like this.. especially moved to tears. they would never stand for that, and surely find me out for certain. as i am walking up,.. people i used to know galavant up to me. with recognizable faces, my arms and body long to embrace them. but.. it stopped short, once staring straight into their face: their mannerisms and body language are all too deceiving. they already underwent the identification transference operation and all i was seeing was a woman of another soul straight in my friend's body. even the woman i was now talking to, was nothing like the close friend i used to know. i felt disgusted and immediately appalled by the deception. and the person already inhabiting my good friend's body, like that of robbing a temple, knew it. "she" quickly looked into my eyes and suspected it as well. "you're not lani..." i spoke to her in such a poisonous tone. too angry and upset, i could not look her in the eye and turned away. all that came out of this girlish exterior and fluffy demeanor was a nervous laugh and a tone that seemed to say ' yes, you're correct in saying i am not her but you'll see. all this will smooth over right away. and you'll start to believe me to be her in a couple of moments': "heh... silly girl, of course i'm lani. I've always been lani..there has never once been any other lani". i of course did not believe this to be true. "come,.. come with me" she urged, " to the dining hall. we shall eat together, you come too peter! you shall eat with us too." some other male counterpart on my right has inadvertently joined us in our walk and conversation. the way he started to talk and carouse with me, i suspected he was trying to make the 'impression' that were life-long friends and even subdued, understated lovers who have known this and each other for years. ... even though my mind most entirely knew: i've never met this man before in my entire life. but, in this strange, unspoken way: he and i both knew it. the seducing revelry in the atmosphere seemed to place your conscious, reasonable, composed mind under an invisible spell. as you entered the dining hall and were lavished with amusement, luxury, pleasure; there seemed to be an unsaid calculated chaos as you were set for the intention of distraction. trying to wean the horrible thought from your mind: that i will soon be replaced. the more i spend with this "lani" and "peter".. the more i started to miss the real girl i once knew. immediately between drinks, feathered fans, forced smiles, sweets, and fabricated laughs i continued to secretly think of her. the more i spent time with this lani, the more apparent it was that it was most certainly not and could never be: her. this woman who decided to steal the image and identity of my beloved friend's body was some frivolous, flirtatious, and even a bit degrading. you can see it plainly in her eyes that she was merely trying to be close to me because of her opportunistic nature. her smooth, velvet flirtatiousness only seemed to scream silently the hidden agenda of 'i want what you have and i dont care a thing about you. the reason i am hanging out with you in the first place is for the social status that you carry'. then.. i woke up. i actually ..shot up from my sleep as if i've been sleeping for 5 years.