I dreamt about DBJ last night, the first time that's happened for months. I dreamt I met him by chance on a street corner somewhere, said hello to him and then told him the reason he didn't see me any more was that I'd moved to a new job. He just shrugged his shoulders and walked away. If that dream scenario ever chanced to be played out exactly the same way in real life, there's absolutely no reason why I should be surprised. Just because I spent the best part of four years mooning over the boy, there's no expectation on my part that he should even know I exist, apart from as a slight irritant by way of me taking every opportunity to gaze longingly at him every time I saw him walk past my old workplace. It looks like my subconscious mind has a better grasp on reality than the conscious version!
Another sidelight into my psyche, or at least the current iteration of it, has come to light over the weekend. I've been trying to progress a couple of stories that are sitting amongst the seemingly myriad drafts in the 'Cuckoos' list of posts. One is my take on the sort of explicitly sexual story that might be found on Nifty, which is going reasonably well, while the other is a much deeper, possibly more sophisticated tale with a proper plot and no sex, which I'm struggling with. No prizes for guessing what's in my head rather a lot at the moment. At least if it stays in my head and isn't acted out, no-one will be hurt, but it all adds to my recent frustrations.
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
No comments:
Post a Comment