A dream.

I woke up filled with regret this morning. The reason is that I had an incredible dream, which was full of symbolism about my self-identity and sense of security or insecurity.  The dream represented these things in a sort of journey through a city (more of a sprawl) -- some of the symbols I remember:  My philosophical perspective was represented as a red-shift view of reality, for which I was mocked at a rest stop on a highway that I think represented a 4-year college.

The whole dream, I think, was narrated by a conversation between me and an anonymous psychoanalyst, who was asking me questions about the symbolism in my dream.  By this point, I knew it was a dream.  So, we returned to the beginning, where I was standing alone outside a garage in a dead-end parking lot at the end of an alleyway.  I was green, and I was androgynous.

There was a song playing, and I told the psychoanalyst that I didn't know the words.  It was beautiful, kind of operatic.  And I looked to my right, and the song, in my handwriting, was projected onto a wall.

I grabbed a notebook, because I wanted to know the song when I woke up.  I was clued to the fact that it wasn't a real notebook, because the song was already written down at the bottom of the page I started writing on, going over to the next page.  I think that the notebook I grabbed was the one from the projection.

But I didn't fully realize that it wasn't the right notebook, and I started copying down the first verse.  I remember being profoundly moved by it.

I got to the chorus, and only managed to write down part of the first line before I woke up (my alarm went off) -- that's the part that was stuck in my head when I was awake, so I remember that the line was "The garden of your golden touch" -- I don't know what it means, at all.

I regret not just standing still and trying to memorize it, because if I had, I'm confident I would have known the verse when I woke up.  Maybe it would have been awful, having been manifested by a dream and all.  But still.