A Dedication to Insecurity

The other day i was watching "the diving bell and the butterfly". really good movie by the way, though not for everyone. literature lovers will enjoy this french movie. anyway, so i was watching and close to the end, our beloved protagonist exclaims, something like, "only bores tell of their dreams". ouch. not a direct quote but you get the gist. immediately i thought of my "dreams" post. i felt a little insulted but i reluctantly agreed. here's the fucked up part, after finishing this brilliant movie i got ready for bed, which usually means a quick read, especially if my mojo's running, which a movie like this will no doubt accelerate. so i grab my current buddy, "the food of the gods" by h.g. wells and by the end of the second paragraph of where i left off the previous night, i read: "Or I should not have mentioned it, because as a general rule I do not think it is at all interesting for people to tell each other about their dreams". two ouches within an hour!

so i put the book down for a moment to think. i agree. who am i to disagree with literary greats, right? if dreams are your source of entertaining or enlightening others, maybe you don't have much to offer realistically. shit! i don't have much to offer. back to not being insightful again.

in my defense, my post wasn't necessarily about my actual dreams but about their appearances or lack there of. i hope, for your sake, i'm not a bore or even worse, uninteresting.

i dedicate this post to insecurity.