*or was it 1802? I think I dreamt that Coleridge was alive.
**When I got up I looked for 'set to rent' in reference books and on the web but found no such phrase.
At the start of the dream the falling person was flying, not falling, with some kind of wing (I'd picked up the wings and tail of a dead bird last evening), or an eighteenth century hang glider?.
Yes, dreams are as baffling now as ever (now that Sigmund Freud's interpretations have been somewhat discredited) - particularly in the way they give one the feeling of not being one's waking self but a different being altogether - more various, less predictable, and less 'good'... But perhaps with same fears, enthusiasms, emotions - and perhaps the same experience and memories?
I can sometimes return to a dream if, on waking, I do not change the posture of my legs and arms. I like the physicality of that.
digital diary archive© 2003 john chris jones
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