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Few months ago I had 2 dreams in a row that involved me rather brutally killing famous actors.
One night Robert DiNiro was blaming me for something so I cut his throat. Next night I dreamed Dennis Hopper turned up in a convoy of white cars outside my house. I was scared as fuck (suspect some Blue Velvet influence). Anyhow, I pretended to be very freindly and civil for a bit and then pounded him to a bloody pulp with a kitchen chair. Eh???
Been reading a bit of Freudian stuff for an essay I'm writing, dreams divided into manifest content & latent content, wish fulfilment, displacement & all that. He has some very interesting, if not entirely convincing, ideas but he always seems to get a bit carried away (ie. why does it always have to come down to castration? Ey?).
I wish I was high...
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