Vivid Dream: Roman Polanski

Two nights ago I dreamt that I was on a Latin American vacation, and I’d discovered a little Guatamalan town called Yalta Baca, where everyone lived as they did 5,000 years ago or something. I wanted to explain to others what was interesting about their way of life, but I was reluctant to use the word “primitives,” which has uncomfortable connotations. Instead I talked about their purity.

As if that weren’t weird enough, last night I dreamt that I was editing an article for the newspaper. The writer, Roman Polanski, got a real scoop–a letter from a man named Maisonet that proved Alexander Putin was an immoral gangster. The scoop was in the form of a two-page letter, which kept changing hands. I obtained the letter, but was spied on by Russian gangsters, who broke into my house to try to find it. They said they’d kill me if I didn’t hand it over but I refused to do it because Roman really needed it to verify his story,

Ultimately, Roman thought I’d taken the Russian side, and hid outside my house in a ditch covered by grass. He popped out of the ditch with a shotgun also covered in grass to disguise it. I said, “Don’t shoot! I’ve been protecting the letter and waiting to give it to you! How could you think I’d be in league with them?” He got out of the ditch and I started crying. “I’m so glad it’s all over,” I wailed. We went to get the letter. He put his arm around me and we walked off into the sunset–very Casablanca.

liz | 12:56 PM | Uncategorized