Culture is the Cultivation of Desire
The showing of Inception yesterday was packed, as I'd been warned beforehand by co-workers. Luckily, I'd bought tickets hours before so wink_martindale and I could enjoy our Sichuan meal nearby without rushing. There was a comedy show going on at the Rich Mix; all cinema goers had to take an elevator to the first floor and cut across a photography gallery while overlooking the show's stage.
After the film, the crowd was slow in leaving the cinema. Three people pushed the fire exit open and I followed them onto a deserted parking lot. A quick scan around made me realise it was completely locked up; I stepped back inside and the door slammed shut, locking those people outside.
Then I noticed my friend Natasha at the back of the crowd, praising the film to her boyfriend. "Ollie, what are you doing here?"
"You are dreaming about the film Natasha, and I'm visiting you in your dream."
She laughed. "What did you think of it?"
"I kept thinking about Slavoj Žižek and what he'd make of it,' I said before remembering that Natasha is slovenian.
Wink and I walked home, down Bethnal Green road. All the pubs were still open at midnight and quite a few people were engaged in arguments and fights on the street. I didn't have any dreams with Leonardo DiCaprio. But I have been dreaming lately of vampires.
