Pounce all you like, dear. And feel free to interpret as long as you let me in on what's going on in my head. I seem to be clueless.
The kiss was most definitely sexual... on the lips, complete with dip... the kind you give someone when the next step is ripping their clothes off. It was a hell of a turn on even though he was quite a muscular man, larger than me and almost blond which I don't like. (Past experience has led me to be leary of blonds.) The picture he was looking at was that one of Jesus at the door... I know you know it. Mostly, what I felt like in the dream was engaged... yeah, as in to be married... claimed, if you know what I mean.
What I felt like when I woke up has no bearing because after that I had a nightmare about being in a war (very detailed there too) and woke up scared out of my mind. Even lucid dreaming and knowing that a tapir's bite is not deadly didn't help much. The tapir's name was Lucy, by the way.
That's what gets me... I get names that I can remember, faces I'll recognise if I ever see them again.. clothes, music, memorable conversations, colour... even smell. I can lucid dream...but I have to know it's a dream first!
Oh, btw, the clothes were 1910-ish and he smelled really GOOD!
Here's my off-the-cuff interpretation: the Superego part of you is here as the woman employer/authority. She has decided (she made him sit down and not touch you) that you won't release the sacred sexually aggressive part of you (here as the sexually attractive and aggressive "brother"-not really your kin, but your animus/sexual self) until you've finished your "work" - learning to serve others. (I associate learning to serve tea with geishas, a reference to sexuality in service of another's will, but you may have entirely different associations with learning to serve tea. The serving and the domestic aspect are probably the important part.) The Superego also was asking him questions, indicating that that part of you doesn't trust the animus/sexuality part. You (in the dream) are going along with your Superego's decision to restrict yourself in this way, but your subconscious animus/sexuality is not on board with the program. The strong association of religion with the lover/Self in the dream - his looking at the religious icon, and your feeling of religious ecstacy after the kiss - seem to me to be indications that this is not a mere "wet dream" to be dismissed, but something "sacred" in your psyche that wants to be known. (His name is another religious association. Francis and John were saints, and Jeremy was an early martyr. I don't know much about those saints, though.) Also, in my dreams, and I believe a common association, is that houses mean the Self or one's own life. So it's meaningful that he came into your house.
Or, I could be full of shite. Biting tapirs named Lucy - I got nothing.
Biting tapirs named Lucy that are very sweet until you shoot them... and who's bite swells up a soldier in the most grotesque manner in a matter of seconds. Surely I could get another story out of that if I tortured it enough...
The kiss was most definitely sexual... on the lips, complete with dip... the kind you give someone when the next step is ripping their clothes off. It was a hell of a turn on even though he was quite a muscular man, larger than me and almost blond which I don't like. (Past experience has led me to be leary of blonds.) The picture he was looking at was that one of Jesus at the door... I know you know it. Mostly, what I felt like in the dream was engaged... yeah, as in to be married... claimed, if you know what I mean.
What I felt like when I woke up has no bearing because after that I had a nightmare about being in a war (very detailed there too) and woke up scared out of my mind. Even lucid dreaming and knowing that a tapir's bite is not deadly didn't help much. The tapir's name was Lucy, by the way.
That's what gets me... I get names that I can remember, faces I'll recognise if I ever see them again.. clothes, music, memorable conversations, colour... even smell. I can lucid dream...but I have to know it's a dream first!
Oh, btw, the clothes were 1910-ish and he smelled really GOOD!
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Or, I could be full of shite. Biting tapirs named Lucy - I got nothing.
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