Why is it that most of my shoe dreams are set in Montreal? Well, where better for a sexy scene, I ask. I am afraid that in this blog I am going to inadvertently expose some of my deepest secrets.
R--, my colleague at work, has already told me what Jung would make of my shoe dreams, wherein I luxuriate in choice and delight in absurd footwear. I was reluctant to admit that my shoe dreams could be as hackneyed as he suggested, but I am not too proud to admit that my life is full of yearning.
I used to live in Montreal and I do yearn to be there sometimes, and I suppose this could be explained metaphorically by wanting to find a perfect colourful shoe, that fits. Other times I think that in dreaming wild shoes I am dreaming of different people I could be in waking life. Or rather, personas I could have.
But rather than unravel these things and disinfect my dreams of charm, I will leave them be.
I love your comments about your dreams; please tell me about them (do you also dream of decrepid buildings and wastrel cities?). And R--, who rarely has dreams at all (or remembers them), I wish you a dazzling crop tonight and all other nights you sleep.
2 comments:
R-- in fact did have a fantastic and ricly colourful palette of dreams last night. I know this because I am his unconscious.
R-- claims he doesn't dream much, but this is absolutely not true. R-- as a dream subject is famous, among us unconsciouses in the collective, for not remembering his dreams upon re-entering the conscious realm. In Seinfeldian terms, he's a bad waker-upper. I'm contantly investigating this affliction in my realm, but my feeling is that he has some sort of dysfunction in the physical world: perhaps a retardation of the pituitary gland, or maybe just a shitty alarm clock.
As to your shoe dreaming, I and the rest of us in the parallel universe are not permitted to divulge the secrets of the unconscious, although this is getting harder to police ever since we got our first Internet Cafe here in Subconscioustan and can now communicate with all you plebes in the inferior conscious world. (I myself write a semi-regular column for the New York Times under the pseudonym Jimmy Monsterpants (damn Id came up with that moniker).)
So bon courage with your shoe dreams. Vive Montreal! I've got to get back to the kitchen to cook up something for R-- tonight.
everyone needs a pair of blue glitter slip on loafers
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