Ra Day Two Again!
Tuesday 10:05 p.m.
I went to visit Adolf last night in my dreams. He stayed in a kind of commune. There was a party going on and all the wee rooms in this subterranean kind of place were full of very good looking, intelligent, young women who all seemed to want to have sex with me. The dream was very vivid (not lucid!) and seemed to go on for ages. Normally, if I ever remember erotic encounters in dreams it's because something a bit weird started going on, or whatever. Not this time. It was a very pleasant dream. If I ever am able to control my dreams, I might go back there!
I sent off some emails today, trying to hustle up a literary agent for the sensei and reverend. They went to David O'Leary, Jenny Brown and Allan Guthrie. The later said he was into crime noir. David O'Leary phoned me up once. It's much better trying to get someone else an agent than trying to get one for yourself.
This morning on the bus, I had just settled in as it took off from the stop on Princes Street. This means my knees were up on the seat in front; my bag was clutched to my chest and encircled by my arms, the hands tucked into the sleeves. Just started meditating when this kid interupted me and said she'd a book to return. Jacqueline Wilson's Tracy Beaker. Some kids don't seem to realise you wouldn't go if the buggers didn't pay you. You can't say I'm not working yet. I said thanks very much and took the book.
Half an hour or so later, the bus turns at PC World in Costorphine and you open your eyes. The Pentlands were dusted with snow. The sun was just about to come up down to the left around about Portobello, I suppose. I did look rather nice.
I went to visit Adolf last night in my dreams. He stayed in a kind of commune. There was a party going on and all the wee rooms in this subterranean kind of place were full of very good looking, intelligent, young women who all seemed to want to have sex with me. The dream was very vivid (not lucid!) and seemed to go on for ages. Normally, if I ever remember erotic encounters in dreams it's because something a bit weird started going on, or whatever. Not this time. It was a very pleasant dream. If I ever am able to control my dreams, I might go back there!
I sent off some emails today, trying to hustle up a literary agent for the sensei and reverend. They went to David O'Leary, Jenny Brown and Allan Guthrie. The later said he was into crime noir. David O'Leary phoned me up once. It's much better trying to get someone else an agent than trying to get one for yourself.
This morning on the bus, I had just settled in as it took off from the stop on Princes Street. This means my knees were up on the seat in front; my bag was clutched to my chest and encircled by my arms, the hands tucked into the sleeves. Just started meditating when this kid interupted me and said she'd a book to return. Jacqueline Wilson's Tracy Beaker. Some kids don't seem to realise you wouldn't go if the buggers didn't pay you. You can't say I'm not working yet. I said thanks very much and took the book.
Half an hour or so later, the bus turns at PC World in Costorphine and you open your eyes. The Pentlands were dusted with snow. The sun was just about to come up down to the left around about Portobello, I suppose. I did look rather nice.
posted by Hotboy at 10:06 PM
2 Comments:
Amazing dream. I used to occasionally have success controlling my dreams, though never during a sexual dream.
I had a dream last night in which I woke up and found the bedroom light was on. Then I really did wake up, and realised that the light was really off. Then I spent the rest of the night dreaming I was telling people about waking up and finding the bedroom light was on and then really waking up, and realising that the light was really off.
I was exhausted this morning.
Your dream is a foretaste of your future life as a guru. I'll help out if there are too many wee rooms for you to handle alone.
PS - feel free to quote keda's review in the Alma Mater publicity.
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