London Dreams

I dreamt of London last night.

 

I dint know why but its still as clear as it can get.

 

There wasn’t anything eventful in the dream but I found myself roaming endlessly and aimlessly in the city.

 

I took pictures of the Big Ben and Instagrammed it (Yes, even in the subconscious)

 

I lived in a house with a bright red door.

 

I sat on the stone cold benches in front of Tate.

 

I even caught a splash of the bitterly cold rains.

 

Hot chocolate in hand, I was very contented.

 

I think I woke up smiling.

 

London dreams are good for me. I suspect that they arise from my deep obsession. Not necessarily a bad thing.

 

My mum mentions that there is this book that helps decipher dreams. Anyone know what it is?