There was this intensity in the dream that was disturbing. Intensity in the tension, fears, worries and longings strewn over random images, words, faces and places. One scene was me about to leave home, very, very early in the morning.
I remember vividly that that I had to get to the airport, and that the cities of Dubai and Abu Dhabi (where I've never even been before) were involved. I was on the train with my mum, who insisted on accompanying me all the way, even though she looked so exhausted and sickly... only later did I realise once the train came to a stop that we arrived at the wrong place. On the map were all these names which sounded so foreign...
My alarm woke me up moments later.
One of my favourite pieces of Mozart... can you not just feel the intensity of expressions in the m
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