Two Dreams

Last night I dreamt of a white dog from Africa who caused a man to murder his young wife and their unborn child. When he woke to her body the next day, he could not remember having done it and was horrified. The dog ran away and was adopted by another family. I watched it all from a distance, but when I awoke, I felt that I was the man whose weakness had been exploited.

I dreamt that the restaurant where I work was destroyed. The restaurant collapsed under the weight of the five floors above, which is where all of the employees lived. No one was killed, but we were all instantly rendered homeless and unemployed. Strangely the bombing, which was done by someone I didn't recognize but who seemed familiar to me, was a liberation of sorts. The bomber had taken so much from us all, but in his act of betrayal had freed us all of our burdens and the things holding us there. It made me wonder just how much I hold myself back in the name of advancement - both in the life and career sense. Whether it be unfortunate or not, the life of the artist is, in a way, his career.