MONDAY, 10 APRIL 2017
Last night I dreamt of going through “immigration control”, but I couldn’t find my “passport”. I gave the official a document, but it turned out to be merely a green South African “ID book”, and it wasn’t even my own. I got a little worked up, because I was sure I knew where my “passport” was. After repeatedly probing my “bag” I managed to find it.
For years I’ve been having recurring dreams about heading to the airport or train station, but I’d be struggling with too much luggage. Or, I would be wasting time with trivialities and then can’t finish packing. Time after time in every one of these dreams I miss the train or flight.
Clearly this latest dream is part of the travel theme, but at least I made it to the airport this time. I just couldn’t prove who I was – so to speak.
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