live, from the basement

so, my eyes are crossed from exhaustion, my feet hurt and i desperately need to go to sleep,
but
i just wanted to write out my dream from last night because dreams about thom yorke always seem to be so much more than simply a dream about one of my favorite artists.

he was in my basement and he had a space for listening to music and recording down there.
i went downstairs to see him and we spoke of record players and my urgent need to purchase one. in the dream he was saying the good ones i should be looking for start at around $1,000. then he pulled out a record of one of his newer songs {in real life i currently have a 12 inch vinyl en route to me of two of radiohead's new singles} and we were considering listening to it on his sound system down stairs. it was a casual interaction. he was in my basement, he made music there and was generous with his time. no big deal.

something called me upstairs and my middle sister was there and in that sudden way of dreams we were in a fight. about what, who knows, but i remember the feeling of the door to the basement being open and the shame i felt that perhaps he heard us and knew i was....{here words fail my drooping mind}....petty? immature? unworthy? something lacking somehow.

and that's where the dream ended.

again, i note that he keeps on progressively getting closer to me each time i dream of him.
and again, i note that his presence has less to do with the platonic crush i have on him and is rather connected to my desire to make work as pure and beautiful as what he has achieved.



currently listening to: reruns of ode to joy in it's full symphonic glory replaying itself in my head. more on the symphony and my evening with my dad later.