I revise my earlier statement
Feb. 1st, 2006 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
artyartieI rented 'Closer' from the library - the story of four very screwed up people in love and lust and sometimes precious little clothing and silly wigs. Not even an OT4 would help them, but my God, talking about building up the sexual attraction and tension between everyone - the cybersex scene between Clive Owen and Jude Law (pretending to be Julia Roberts) just made me giggle madly. But as in Episode II and III, Natalie Portman's acting in 'serious relationship scenes' just doesn't do anything for me at all. But there was some quality London porn (by which I mean scenery, people!) - I need to find that little wine bar overlooking Trafalgar Square and Nelson's Column next time.
I had the oddest dream last night, after taking nearly an hour to fall asleep due to some excellent Turkish coffee drunken at 9 p.m. and some uncomfortable aches. I've had dreams about death before, from a dream where I *was* Death in the form of a young man, to a truly terrifying dream where a friend died, quite literally, in my arms. But I've seldom dreamt of my own death, and never so vividly as last night, where felt myself slipping into whatever place it is you go to when you die in a dream. It was an overwhleming lethargy pulling at me, each beat of my heart farther and father apart. But I couldn't die, because I had to go to London again, and I did, but I can't remember anything about seeing the city itself. In my dreams, whenever I'm in a city I never have any time - there's this sense of rushing and urgency and something very important that must be done now. I wish I could remember that London of my dreams, but all I remember is that I came back and I didn't die.
I had the oddest dream last night, after taking nearly an hour to fall asleep due to some excellent Turkish coffee drunken at 9 p.m. and some uncomfortable aches. I've had dreams about death before, from a dream where I *was* Death in the form of a young man, to a truly terrifying dream where a friend died, quite literally, in my arms. But I've seldom dreamt of my own death, and never so vividly as last night, where felt myself slipping into whatever place it is you go to when you die in a dream. It was an overwhleming lethargy pulling at me, each beat of my heart farther and father apart. But I couldn't die, because I had to go to London again, and I did, but I can't remember anything about seeing the city itself. In my dreams, whenever I'm in a city I never have any time - there's this sense of rushing and urgency and something very important that must be done now. I wish I could remember that London of my dreams, but all I remember is that I came back and I didn't die.
