Odd dating guidance

Date: 2/23/2019

I been reading silly book again about how to use my dreams for “practical” guidance. So I went to bed asking my subconscious to give me answers to questions. Two of which were, “What can I do, or should I do to make life feel more rewarding/satisfying? And What sort of thing should I look for in dating partners and their profiles. Hee, Hee! The resulting dream was funny but I’ve still have very little clue. Itd, I find myself in a arty tutorial type room or studio, except it’s a bit too smart for the average learning establishment. It’s in an old and grand building, something like an grand Victoria commercial head quarters, probably on the second or third floor. The interior has had a modern stylish refurb. Over the top, decrepit or ugly original features have all been stripped away. What’s left is a room with urban strip brickwork, some discrete original ceiling mouldings and modern flat plaster work painted a subdued/dusted/muted aubergine. The once grand Georgian type window have been sympathetically reglazed with dark lead pained casing. The floors and tables tops are of proper polish chunky teakwood. The ceiling are high with smart pendant sculptured wood shades. The chairs and stools, table raw metal supports and wiring is all matt black and left elegantly exposed. This is an obviously refined, slightly nostalgic and high quality commercial scene with the modern tables and light set out in lines mimicking how old Victorian clark’s or engineer desks would have been arranged. The room is very tidy and masculine, seductively sober, comfortingly regular and urbane. (Well I guess that does give me some clue, now I’ve written all that down) So I walk down an aisle and set myself down at one of the desks. This is were dream perspective goes askew, because there are about six men about my own age sitting with in a group. I feel that they are sitting in a regular pattern around one or two desk but I also see them as sitting separately in a regular square pattern of about six desks. At one point I move from one desk to another, so maybe two desks with three men at each desk. Whatever, it feels and looks even. The men at first appearance seem all quite different, but well presented, well turned out and attractive. They’re all wearing style conscious and attractive high end, slightly edgy, office casuals; no ties or suits or anything scruffy,stuffy or old hat. I see a guy I recognised from infants and secondary school, all grown up and looking as friendly as he was as a kid. I’m so pleased to see him, I give him a greeting hug, that so nice it turns into a full on cuddle. The guy doesn’t seem to mind. In fact he makes the happy hug obligatory sound “arhhh! argh!” and smiles. I look him in the face and he’s all open, happy, handsome and fresh. I say “it’s good to see you” and he nods back. I move on to met the others but I’m thinking this isn’t quit right. I remember an old school friend telling me that the guy I’ve just met got depressed and permanently obese, once I moved away. This was sad news. He was computer nerdy and although he was fun, I used to suspect he often thought mean sexual thoughts about girls. I somehow didn’t count as a proper girl in his mind ever, just someone he liked to be silly with. Not someone he would have a “nasty” proper relationship with when he grew up. I know he looked at porn mags when he could find them and he wouldn’t want to do that “nasty” unkind stuff with me. I realise somehow that this dream old school friend is just a idealised projection of how I’d like him to be, so I move on to the next guy/desk of men. (That’s how dream are for me. I’m often lucid enough to recognise dream symbolism, even know there deep meanings but not lucid enough to recognise I’m am dreaming so I can control my actions. On some level I must know I’m dreaming to be able to work things out.) Coincidentally, I quit happy and comfortable in this dream, and also happy that this dream is happening while I’m dreaming it. Some how I know it’s a good one. So the next guys really odd. He is wearing all suave navy; dark denim jeans a very expensive new linen like shirt. The collar is open one button and faultlessly pressed. He has a very nice hard body. His face is funny odd, sort of like a black retriever dogs or a very dark sculptural native Indian’s face. I think he must be very old or an old soul. I don’t really speak to him directly, just trace my fingers over his face as if I’m smoothing the fur of a friendly quiet dog. When I do speak it’s like I’m talking to somebody else, one or all of the men in the room and they answer and talk back to me, as if they are a person or people I already know well. I say something like “I like you but I don’t think you’d really will like me. I think we think very differently.” They/he agrees. They/he says something like “You don’t think in sequence and your not careful accurate enough. You don’t learn quickly.” I laugh and say “but I think much more creatively and I do understand and think deeply once I have got there. You get to understanding much quicker and efficiently than my fumbling hesitancy, but you also sprint and spirt out stuff then fall on your back. You understand things quickly but disclose them too quickly. You realise later that there is more understanding and than you have to get yourself back up again in front of everybody. (Which is funny to others but you do not like to be seen as funny) I get to the finish line where I want to be, as painfully slow, as a turtle, without the daft embarrassment of getting things so openly abrupt. And once’s I got things down, I can play with them in a way you can’t or won’t permit yourself.” Then I say “see, how I can play the floor is lava game much better than you.” I then put on wooden and cloth ink blotters or board wiper onto the bottom of each feet. I skate across the floor to another set of empty tables and sit on one. I reach over and grab two of the posh metal chairs and kick them across the room back towards the desks where the men are sitting. I stand up on the table and jump from one chair to the other using the light fitting to swing from and steady myself. Once I realise the light fittings are useful I swing from them Tarzan like over the rest of the gap. I realise I can’t do this in real life. I’m to clumsy and lack agility and strength, so I guess I’m becoming lucid. I’m laughing and starting to show off. I do a awesome swirly flying pirouette over the men’s head using a light fixture as a circus rope, not caring if the men can see up my grey work culottes. Then I drop myself down on a seat next to one of my favourite guys. He says, “That was spectacular!” in a deadpan slightly humorous sarcastic way. I laugh and say, “I know!” and wake up