Saturday, April 24, 2010

a dream uninterpreted is like a letter unread

swing _MG_0599

today i have a stomach ache. i am drinking many pots of jasmine tea. i took a footbath in the sun. with four kids hanging around me asking why, what, when and where? i do my best finding answers to all their questions.

i dream plenty. my father and i are serving black pudding to two muslims, and i realize with horror in the middle of the meal that they don’t eat pork(blood). my boss screaming at me in a bar,(seem to be a repeating theme, the boss one…) and woke up with tears in my eyes.

a few days ago a bus driver told me to never stop smiling when i smiled at him. it was a sweet moment somehow. i will do my best also with that one.

 

3 comments:

  1. oj, det där med blodpuddingen lät intressant... ringde dig igår kväll apropå det brutna benet, vi kan väl höras. hoppas det magonda släpper. puss!

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  2. Vilken dröm,att servera blogpudding till muslimer:D
    Jag minns sällan mina drömmar nuförtiden.Hoppas din mage redan mår bättre.
    Trevlig veckoslut Sara!

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  3. fru a, puss!

    yaelian, konstig dröm va? dom säger att man sover djupare och bättre när man inte minns sina drömmar. men jag vet inte... tack och ha en bra vecka!

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