Wednesday, February 22, 2006
My Book Of Dreams
Dream 15
In my dream a tram approaches.
Dream 16
In my dream I have a couple of loose teeth.
I can move them about with my tongue, and can feel the gap between tooth and gum, and the stringy bit that holds one to the other, like you do when you’re a kid and your teeth are supposed to fall out.
Dream 17
In my dream, it’s as if my entire field of vision has been taken over by a film producer with too much technology to hand. Everything I see is either in slow motion or speeded up, and whizzing about - panning from side to side, or zooming in and out. Scenes chop and change in rapid succession. It’s like living in an episode of Bleak House. Nothing actually happens.
Dream 18
In my dream I’m driving my Mum home.
It’s a rainy night and whenever we pull up at traffic lights she gets out of the car and starts to wander off like a crazy person, and I have to go and fetch her back again.
She’s not a crazy person - yet - but my goodness there are days when I think it can’t be long.
I contemplate what I’ll be like when I’m a crazy person - will I be amusing and affectionately-regarded crazy, or sad and alone crazy? Will I get to choose?
When we eventually get to her house I open the boot to take out her suitcase and some boxes of stuff, but the boot is a foot deep in water and everything is ruined.
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In my dream a tram approaches.
Dream 16
In my dream I have a couple of loose teeth.
I can move them about with my tongue, and can feel the gap between tooth and gum, and the stringy bit that holds one to the other, like you do when you’re a kid and your teeth are supposed to fall out.
Dream 17
In my dream, it’s as if my entire field of vision has been taken over by a film producer with too much technology to hand. Everything I see is either in slow motion or speeded up, and whizzing about - panning from side to side, or zooming in and out. Scenes chop and change in rapid succession. It’s like living in an episode of Bleak House. Nothing actually happens.
Dream 18
In my dream I’m driving my Mum home.
It’s a rainy night and whenever we pull up at traffic lights she gets out of the car and starts to wander off like a crazy person, and I have to go and fetch her back again.
She’s not a crazy person - yet - but my goodness there are days when I think it can’t be long.
I contemplate what I’ll be like when I’m a crazy person - will I be amusing and affectionately-regarded crazy, or sad and alone crazy? Will I get to choose?
When we eventually get to her house I open the boot to take out her suitcase and some boxes of stuff, but the boot is a foot deep in water and everything is ruined.
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