Dreams, Writing, Things of Such Frustration
To my utter and complete joy, I had the best of dreams two nights ago. Very vivid in my mind, as if I could physically touch it.
The Dream:
I was Harry Potter (strange really because I seem to dream quite a bit about HP characters in a sexual context, though I am not sure if two dreams constitute as a lot) sitting in this closet with selves lining the wall. On these selves and giving an icy blue glow were there bowls of that silvery blue stuff that prophecies were held in, I do not remember what they were called. Like that one scene in Order of the Phoenix when they went into the Ministry of Magic, that room filled with those blue globes. Anyway, Hermoine was sitting next to me, busy hair flying everywhere. Who in the world knows where Ron is. For some reason Draco Malfoy was there. I, as Harry Potter, started kissing Draco and it turned into a full fledged make-out session. We started rubbing on eachother. Frotting, **drools** and heavy petting. Hermoine continued to sit there calmly as if this whole thing in front of her was not happening.
I woke up humping the bed... I think. It was that intense. The kissing alone... gahhh...
Anyway,
beyond that, I'm getting frustrated with my writing. I'm not getting anywhere with it. I'm looking at my old fictions and I hate that there is nothing coming to mind.
Oh well.
The Dream:
I was Harry Potter (strange really because I seem to dream quite a bit about HP characters in a sexual context, though I am not sure if two dreams constitute as a lot) sitting in this closet with selves lining the wall. On these selves and giving an icy blue glow were there bowls of that silvery blue stuff that prophecies were held in, I do not remember what they were called. Like that one scene in Order of the Phoenix when they went into the Ministry of Magic, that room filled with those blue globes. Anyway, Hermoine was sitting next to me, busy hair flying everywhere. Who in the world knows where Ron is. For some reason Draco Malfoy was there. I, as Harry Potter, started kissing Draco and it turned into a full fledged make-out session. We started rubbing on eachother. Frotting, **drools** and heavy petting. Hermoine continued to sit there calmly as if this whole thing in front of her was not happening.
I woke up humping the bed... I think. It was that intense. The kissing alone... gahhh...
Anyway,
beyond that, I'm getting frustrated with my writing. I'm not getting anywhere with it. I'm looking at my old fictions and I hate that there is nothing coming to mind.
Oh well.