not listening to
dreams is a tragedy for
seekers of meaning
I had been in a play in which I apparently had portrayed a Shakespearean character. Afterwards, I seemed to be watching myself as, still in my costume, I arrived at a house where I was supposed to meet a woman. I was probably in my 50s, and the woman probably in her 20s. When I arrived, I did not see the woman anywhere, and talking to myself out loud, I asked if this were not just some sort of Shakespearean tragedy in which I was involved. Suddenly, however, the woman appeared, and said something in response to what I had just said. I stood looking at her. She was dressed in white and looked quite regal. Obviously she had not abandoned me after all.
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