I don’t like the way Blogger has taken to asking me my username and pw each time I want to post. It didn’t use to do that. I’ll be in the anger dome if you need me.
Be that as it may, I’m done my drawing for the night, and it’s only 12:41 am. I feel the sleep bees creeping up on me with their stingers of drowse, but not yet my pets…no, not yet. There’s nothing to do on the internet, so I thought I’d write some, even though practically nothing happened to me today. I had no interesting thoughts, I did no interesting activities. I made hummous. Boring. Oh, I know – I’ll tell you about my dream:
I came out of a building (a movie theater) and I looked to the sky. There was no sun. There were no clouds and no blue openness. All of that was blocked out by a vast dull grey metal ceiling, with various flat mechanical bits & bolts shewing that it was obviously constructed. There was a highway that led off into the distance (and possibly a car) so I left the person I was with to try to discern how far the dome went. Not long, I arrived (possibly by car) to the edge of the dome, and there was a door. I opened the door, and there was a room with two workmen going about their business. I asked what was going on with the dome. They told me that the sun had gotten too bright, and that if they hadn’t put the dome up, everyone would be blinded. They gave me these protective goggles, like welder’s goggles, and let me go out another door that led to the outside world. I put them on and went out. It was really bright. I explored what seemed to be a tenuously deserted world, climbing up to a wall of abandoned machines and vehicles, large tires perhaps.
Hearing about other people’s dreams is usually pretty boring, I find. I was telling Ang Hold about this dream (and another one) this morning, while they were fresh in my mind – she asked me if I thought they had any symbolic meaning to me. I don’t really put much stock in the symbolic meaning of dreams, apart from the fact that I am afraid of bears and my penis means a lot to me. I mean, your brain has nothing to think about while you’re sleeping, so it makes its own reality up to play around in. And sure, it has basis in your subconscious –absolutely — but spending time trying to figure out why my mind works the way it does when I’m asleep is like trying to figure out why my mind works the way it does when I’m awake, only harder. In theory it’s an intriguing notion, but have you ever tried to take apart a car while you’re driving it?