A night of vivid dreams. I was woken at 4:00 this morning in the throes of a panic attack, after dreaming of receiving a letter from the bank demanding money, and tearfully telling my wife we didn't have any to give them. Waking up in such circumstances would often mean the end of my night's sleep, but, on this occasion, I managed to doze off again, and the next part of the dreamscape was very different. I had a long, narrative dream about a journey, by road and then train from somewhere undefinable in the English Midlands to Paris, a journey that was punctuated by lots of sex. It involved two people from my past, both young adults in the dream rather than boys, neither of whom I have ever had any conscious attraction to in real life (although I did see a photo of one of them as a boy, and he was seriously cute at that age, while I knew the other at school - he wasn't my type, even then). The final phase of the dream, after arriving in Paris, involved my being 'picked up' by two boy prostitutes on bikes, looking like brothers, but not resembling any boys I can recall seeing in waking hours. There was no actual sexual activity with them, though, unlike the earlier part of the dream, just talking to them in a mixture of their broken English and my even more broken French. As usual with dreams, I don't suppose any of it actually means anything of any substance, although I guess that the fact that all the sex was gay rather than straight might be saying something.
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
No comments:
Post a Comment