Silver dream
OK. An odd dream that might be better not shared. But ever the blabbermouth, I will.
It seemed to last all night, this dream, and was about a 1960s Silver Cross pram in a charity shop. Actually it wasn’t Silver Cross, but that type, coachbuilt, chrome… On first inspection it was rubbish - dusty, shabby and really expensive. I knew they were unpractical, dated, and that I certainly didn’t want one. Just couldn’t leave it alone - I knew it was no good, but was willing it to be. The more I fussed over it, the cleaner it got; the chrome became shiny, I kept finding unused accessories to it in original packaging. It got cheaper until it was £95, but I didn’t want one! Just couldn’t get the thought out of my head that Caroline had said they were good for babies’ daytime naps under the trees outside (sort of nanny in the park, Peter Robin style; she dreamily reminisced, how we all used to be cute…).
The decision to have it or not was an immense struggle over a whole weekend (big waste of time, strangely familiar, that inability to make decisions) that no one seemed to be aware of. I was around lots of people who were oblivious to my crippling difficulties. Next I seemed to have bought it (just couldn’t let it go), and was wondering why on earth I had, it seemed such a burden, more stuff, making me sluggish.
Ok, two analyses:
- Liking something unsuitable, and willing it to be right knowing it never would be; being attracted to things that make life difficult, are testing…
- Perhaps just liking something is difficult - needing to justify that desire through practical, tangible reasons, a desire for the sake of desire not enough perhaps?
Answers on a postcard please…
Oh and then I was at a nudist lakeside holiday resort.