I often trick myself into believing that I an expert songwriter who kindly and virtuously opts out of the songwriting industry for vague humanitarian reasons. So, whenever I happen to steer my thoughts down that path, I sit up and write songs. The melodies are too genius to bother reproducing and the lyrics can always be passed off as poems.
Well I had a dream one night. It was a strange sort. Apocalyptic and forbidding in the early stages, the dream greatly improved its attitude as it unfolded. As it ended, I was in some type of jungle paradise (visualize beautiful scenery, flowers, trees, an intervening river and absolutely no hungry otherworldly creature giving chase or even visible etc). In this pleasant setting, I began to hear a lady’s charming voice reciting the most beautiful, heart-warming, uplifting, amazing poem my ears ever heard. The voice was disembodied, sort of all over the scene, like a real life voice-over commentary. The poem was about myself and my virtues, romantic qualities and many admirable attractions. Ahem.
(I can not dwell upon how accurate the dream has been scientifically proven to be.)
At any rate I woke up suddenly, forgetting vast swathes of the dream immediately. Strangely enough, my initial reaction was to wish that those adoring words were being spoken by my Best Friend, or at the very least, were her secret inner thoughts. Suddenly I wanted her. Or “I thought that maybe I felt like I, like, wanted her, perhaps, or just something yucky like that.”
At the thought, a brief anxiety attack started but quickly resolved itself.
Strangely, before the dream, I’d never allowed myself to think of her in those terms. Here I was. She would be visiting soon, my Best Friend of ten years.