– I dreamt of standing naked opposite a bunch of shocked people. I felt proud and happy.
– I dreamt of dying of haemorrhage in a white room, on a white bed. People around me trying to hide my blood ’cause it made them feel uneasy and embarassed.
– I dreamt of chatting with my mother in a cosy mountain lodge. She told me that the notebook I use to write down my dreams was improperly kept. It was full of drawings I’ve never actually drawn. It was full of secrets. So I went outside on the snowy slope and kept trying to climb it upwards, thwarted by all those around me who were skiing at the speed of light. Properly. Downwards.
– I dreamt of walking in a field in a full-blown spring afternoon. I kept picking all sorts of flowers; some of them actually exist, like daisies. Others don’t. But then my dog would shit, and I would pick up his shit as well. This was a really happy moment.
– Last night I dreamt of waking up and finding a ghost in my living room, in the dark. The ghost would touch me while I was sitting on the sofa, frozen with horror. Then I realised that I was the ghost. I had a ghost’s hands. My dogs saw inside of me and bit both my hands, snarling. Then I dreamt of running to the other room, desperate, to tell that I was a ghost and that I had a ghost’s hands.
So this is what I dream of. Apparently I feel happier when I get naked, so there you go. The Internet is a perfect place for sharing trash of all sorts and counting ourselves as kings of infinite space.