Dreams: Addiction

Excerpt from mail sent 1998

In my dream, I'm walking down a wide, echoing, empty, white, shiny tile hallway in a convention center. I am mentally preparing myself to give a speech about the music of David Bowie. The man who has arranged for me to give this speech is walking alongside. He's been talking at me for a while, but I haven't been paying attention. I'm just listening with half an ear as he continues:

...and the people in the audience aren't really familiar with the "language of addiction," so you'll want to explain those terms as you go along...

It occurs to me that he might be expecting me to speak about an aspect of Bowie's music that I'm not really prepared to discuss. I awake with a feeling of irritation.

Patties

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