One of the most fascinating things to me about my dreams is the people who appear in it, like characters populating a sprawling novel that doesn’t always hold together.
Some people in my dreams are regular fixtures in my daily life. Other nighttime visitors are people I haven’t spoken to in 20 years and probably wouldn’t think about at all, except they keep appearing to me. Still others are just faceless blobs, remembered the next morning only as "a woman" or "an old man." And then there are the people who are dearly important to me, yet who never seem to grace my sleep.
In any case, it’s weird for me to write about friends and long forgotten friends, sometimes in intimate or strange situations. I hope no one is troubled by seeing themselves in the darkest reaches of my psyche.
