There was some kind of writing colony or academic conference thing; there were many of us in a room together. The participants were not people I knew from real life, but in the dream they were sharply differentiated, with distinctive features. Men and women in about equal numbers.
Gradually, I came to realize I was dreaming. At that point I knew I could do anything I wanted...
The wealth of detail in this dream was extraordinary.
You are getting really good at dreaming, the ones below as well, the 1847 manuscript.
I don't know that dreaming can be something to be good at. It just sort of happens to you.
I would say good is when you get that kind of clarity of detail. I also like some of the narratives, perhaps it is I who am good at dreaming.
I dreamed, when I had that contract on a book I did not agree with, that I wanted to take a shower but could not because César Vallejo's corpse was hanging in a body bag from the shower-head, and was so heavy I could not lift it off. I called a colleague to come over and help, and even with two of us, we could not.
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