The Dream of a Ridiculous Woman

I wonder what your associations are to Russian at this time. The buildings seem to be a theme too- the cold academic atmosphere contrasting with the home you were given, perhaps.

Lacanian Scraps

Last night I slept only for a short time because of a recent crisis. I had a dream that woke me and forced me to flee. I got into my car and drove to Cork. This was the dream:

My partner and I were fighting. I knew this because she wasn’t anywhere. I couldn’t find her. I’ve had dreams like this many times. This one was in a large building with many doors and wide hallways. I suppose it to be a university. I went looking for her. A friend, a guy, told me, in a secret way, that she was behind a particular door. He pointed and then walked away. I walked in. I saw my partner dressed beautifully, with the most radiant smile and happiness. She was eating grapes that were being served to her by another woman. The other woman was the woman whose house was offered…

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By penwithlit

Freelance writer and radio presenter

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