We were three in the middle of a workshop, but the place looked like a VIPS. Apparently the table was our work table. In front of us, the dishes with food symbolized arts & crafts. You were on my left. An unknown woman was on my right. She seemed beautiful and she irradiated a strong sexual vibe. Both of us were attracted to her. She was irresistible. We were trying to impress her.
Our teacher at the workshop was an old woman with glasses, gray hair and a kitchen apron, and she walked again and again close to the table. It seemed that we were terrible pupils and that she was annoyed of our attitude. I guess this piece of the dream symbolizes the way I feel about a few students who are super demanding and super self-indulging, without any kind of self-criticism. They complain about everything and they act like if they were perfect, but omit to say that they do not assist to classes, that they do not do homeworks and that they cheat on examinations. They expect immediate answers to their e-mails and demands, but they never answer e-mails. Only their needs are relevant. They have no empathy.
In the dream, basically, we were an example of laziness. We were chatting. I was starved and the food was a temptation I tried to resist. I also tried to ignore the sounds of my stomach. Once and again your face and my face were so close. It seemed you wanted me to kiss you. The unknown woman seemed to agree and to have fun. I was so sure that if we kissed, she would have an affair with us. This scene was so intense. I felt I was in the middle of a movie and that I was a movie star sham. Several times our faces were very close and we were about to kiss. Each time it happened, I thought that I'd always felt curious about kissing a man and that now that I had the opportunity, I was so afraid. At the same time, I felt nobody loved me and that I had to kiss you –like if it were the one last effort–, if I seriously wanted to not be ignored any more. It was like my most hard acting test.
Before I went to bed, I accidentally saw one of your Tik Tok videos –I was so impressed of your work and I felt envy about your popularity– at the very same moment Spotify reproduced “Sour times” on the computer. For almost a decade I hadn't heard Portishead and the music evoked some volatile memories on me.
I have a feeling that you'll have success as an artist –maybe, as a writer?– in the way I would love to. I have a feeling that my work will be ignored as usual. I don't want to be famous, but sometimes is so frustrating that nobody reads me. (Not even the ones I consider my friends). I'm not even sure that someone will if I die. As I know that this part of the dream symbolizes my thoughts about literary mob, I also know that I'm sort of paranoid. Nonetheless, I have the feeling that my colleagues and relatives think that I'm the copy of the copy of the copy of the copy, and that I always get more than I deserve. I smell their envy each second. I know I'm just a lucky guy and that I'm not the smartest guy on Earth, but I have made a lot of sacrifices to have what I have. No one has given me anything for free.
