I had a very strange dream during that dawn twilight time when I often dream.
I was walking around Paris. I actually did that… about 31 years ago. It is strange how dreams dredge up old material like that. It was quite vivid.
There was a strange building (Centre Pompidou?) and I felt compelled to go inside. Inside it was like some kind of bar or nightclub, but the people were all just standing around – not drinking or eating or dancing or anything. I had this thought that they were ghosts.
I tried to leave the place, but I was unable to do it. It was like a maze, trying to get out. It became a maze – an image borrowed from some movie seen on TV, perhaps – a hedgerow maze with little gold flowers attached the leaves of the hedges. The flowers were like stars strewn across the sky. The sky whirled, as if time was moving rapidly.
I lay down, and the floor was asphalt. This has some precedent in reality, at some point in my past. I felt lost.
When I awoke, it was later than my usual wake-up time. The weather is hot, already at 7:30 am, and the sun is shining in my southeast-facing windows. The fan is blowing, and the air seems a little less humid than yesterday, but still my apartment is uncomfortably warm.
I have no idea.
[daily log: walking, ]