Everyone wants a best friend like me
Another night, another dream.
I feel so connected now that I can dream again, it’s unreal.
I thought I had reported a dream with Varys in before, but looking over my archive it appears not. I am not always myself in my dreams I want to make this 100% clear, even as female entities they’re usually just some other being that I portray. The latest dream about Rambo, I know the person I was, is an extension of myself but not the true me.
Just with this dream last night, I was partially myself, but mostly someone else.
I know that’s a difficult thing to understand, but it’s just as difficult to explain.
This particular dream took part along the street Fulbridge road where I used to live in Peterborough – a fairly long street and if you know of it this was mostly near the shops closest to St Pauls road.
I – I still use I as it is easier – happened to be walking along with my best friend beside me, Varys. I seem to have developed a strange feeling for Varys, love, passion, admiration but nothing so close to sexual. We were merely talking as we walked along, passed a shop on the corner and hastily made our way towards another little street. (As an aside this street is where my own childhood friend lives – we no longer speak) and before anyone could see us and in our privacy we had a ‘moment.’ Which is where the passion comes into it. We are in love he and I, deeply, but we know that nothing can come of it due to his position in court and my low-birth. Not to mention, love brings weakness. We both know this, but cannot resist.
Thus before we’re discovered the moment passes and we turn back to the shop we passed, still talking about gossip. I turn into the shop stating that I would like to by His Grace; King Joffrey a gift – to thank him for his patronage (Whatever this is) only to discover that a young Joffrey is stood in the same store looking over some things he desires, I buy him one and he is thankful – honestly, I think it is mostly out of fear that I do something nice for Joffrey, he scares me.
We leave the shop again and head up Fulbridge road, back towards home. We turn the conversation to Baelish, who apparently lives down this road somewhere. And I see him in the front garden of one of the houses. (I know the house, but cannot remember the number)
I turn to Varys and state; “Speak thrice of the Devil,”
The dream then ends.