I had a dream last night.
For the record, my history of dreaming is usually sporadic: reserved for sick days and blue moons. So waking up to realise I’d had some nocturnal visions was peculiar, but the dream was all about me and my writing. Coincidence? Probably not, as it’s been on my mind a lot lately.
I don’t remember all of the details but I recall attending a strange academy or university, doing the same degree I’m currently doing in the waking world. I also remember being told by one of my instructors (who shall remain nameless) to drop out of a unit, regardless of the fact I’d written something good for it.
I’m glad I didn’t take their advice, even though they wore a kindly face and spoke warm words. The real person I know to be nothing but encouraging and kind in their instruction. This interloper doesn’t know what direction up is
I want to write and it’s going to take more than an off night’s sleep to make me put the pen down.
In other news, I’m stoked about going to see the new Star Wars movie tomorrow. Flashy laser swords, swooping starfighters and and cheesy one liners? Sign me up!