dreams
dreams dreams
look i’m the
first to admit that most of the time other people’s dreams are boring.
hell most of
the time my dreams are boring.
i go through
phases of dreaming – there are times when i have a load that i can remember and
i promise myself that as they were so outrageously wonderful and weird that i
will write them down. i forget and the world is deprived of some wonderful
entertainment.
then there
are times when my sleep is deep and untroubled by the mess of dreams.
everyone now
and then i have a dream and wonder what the flimflam sparked that one off.
so the one
where i go into a warehouse sized sport equipment store where i am confronted
by a gaggle of clean cut american cuties dressed in tight white athletic gear
seems to be promising, but in the end i just leave the shop with a floppy old
school beret come baseball cap.
a depressing
dream because of the implied promise and the eventual outcome.
still a tad
dull and well within the bounds of understanding.
then there
is the dream where i am walking around the top floor of an industrial warehouse
that has been kitted out to be one f those lovely minimal but expensive
apartments.
a large
rumpled bed dominates the scene. it is awash with naked bodies all in the glow
of post coital pleasure. on closer inspection all the bodies are those of
members of the bbc’s ‘test match special’ cricket commentary team.
this is the
sort of dream that disturbs me, as even in the dream there is a sense of ‘what
on earth am i thinking with this dream?
all i know
is i’ll never be able to listen to the cricket commentary in quite the same way
now that i know what they all get up to in their hotel rooms.
images that
have the power to scar a mind for life.
it needed to
be shared – in talking about it i have lessened the impact on me.
i hope you
get to dream about (very) sticky wickets very soon.
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