These days (well, nights) I'm feeling lucky when I don't remember my dreams. It's mostly really bad stuff, related to all my issues of guilt and shame and every damned mistake I have ever made in my life. But last night I got really lucky. I got to spend time "in the hood" with one of my favorite film directors, Billy Wilder. Got to really talk to him about all kind of different stuff, and when that part of the dream was over I was so disappointed that I couldn't talk to him anymore, but another highlight was waiting for me around the corner. Dr. House (one of my all-time favorite - yeah, yeah, fictional - guys). And I got to talk to him for the longest time about so many things (and he loved that I had just finished talking to BW, lol). I wish that dream didn't have to end. I guess binge watching House is good for something. ;) I needed to take note here, I want to remember that there can be good dreams too.
