Dreams

Thunder only happens when it’s raining. Players only love you when they’re playing. So sang Stevie Niks in her (epic) ballad, ‘Dreams’.

As a person who dreams every night – and remembers at least one dream 9 out of 10 mornings - I’d like to know if there’s any truth to Niks’ assertion that one thing points to another, deeper thing.

Some of my dreams are immediately interpretable, and about as subtle as a meat axe. Dreaming, for instance, about having to finish my PhD, in three days, on a vintage typewriter with no paper, pretty clearly points to a subconscious that is wigging out about the impending submission of my thesis (could also indicate a warning about hipsters, hence the vintage typewriter). Other things I dream about are completely mundane: going grocery shopping, working out at the gym, catching buses, cleaning my apartment. Yawn.

But then sometimes - actually, more than sometimes, about once every couple of weeks - my subconscious throws me a curve ball, and I can’t make top nor tail of my dream.

The dreams which feature celebrities, in particular, often leave me particularly befuddled upon waking.

And so, unlike Niks, who, according to the song, keeps her visions to herself, I’m sharing my most memorable, and befuddling, celebrity dreams. For your interpretational pleasure.

Dream #1. St Kim Kardashian

Kim Kardashian started a grassroots program teaching underprivileged and differently abled children to read using Kindles. She was assassinated for her efforts by being sliced in half. Her body was displayed in a glass cabinet and toured around the world. A campaign was started to have Kim Kardashian canonised. Kim Kardashian was made a saint, and high schools were named in her honour. St Kim Academy, Kardashian High, etc.

Dream #2. Leonardo Di Caprio’s BFF

Leonardo Di Caprio and I were BFFs. We did everything together. It was the 50s, I was rocking an impossibly chic wardrobe. Leonardo Di Caprio wanted to experiment with a quiff. I advised against.

Dream #3. The Wilson Brothers

Owen Wilson. Luke Wilson. Tom Wilson. Yes.

Dream #4. Turning down Alexander Skarsgard

Alexander Skarsgard and I were totally into each other. I get naked. Alexander Skarsgard gets naked. I regretfully inform him that we can no longer go ahead as planned because he has no chest hair. Alexander Sharsgard is disappointed. We hug and become BFFs.

Dream #5. Julia Gillard and the ALP do The Hunger Games

Julia Gillard requested my presence on an elite tiger team to workshop youth policy. Julia Gillard and senior ALP faceless men are super nice. Julia Gillard and I have a chat about hair colour (natural vs artificial – I’m natural, she’s artificial) in the kitchenette. The tiger team take a field trip to Italy, to offices located in the base of the Coliseum. I take a wrong turn trying to get back to our meeting rooms after a loo break (NB: this element of the dream is entirely realistic and happens to me all the time in waking life). Stumble upon a secret room with profiles of youth leaders that the ALP has forced to fight to the death, hunger games style. Realise the tiger team is a front to obscure the true nature of the ALP’s youth policy (fight to the death). Return to the meeting room to confront Julia Gillard and the faceless men. Open the door to realise they know my secret.

Wake up before a satisfactory resolution is achieved.