Dream 296

'Pretending to be a Lesbian'

I was in a domestic-style room which was quite dimly lit and had lot of shelves mounted on a kitchen-style work surface. I am not sure what room or building we were in as it did not resemble a real-life space. The shelving unit had square pigeonholes - it looked like the kind of wooden structure used for mail in offices. I was with some others - two people - who I did not recognise, but whom I knew in the dream as either family or close friends. We were sitting on stools in front of the wooden shelving. I had written something or produced something creative. I think it was poetry, but I am not sure. I had been receiving some praise for my creative efforts. Another person entered the room - I think it was a female. The lights in the room were now more bright - yellow in colour. The female dream character was holding an envelope which she informed me had been left on the door step for me. She opened the envelope - which was a brown padded one. It was apparently from a husband and wife, who wanted to let me know how well I had done at the creative output [poetry?]. Inside the envelope was a letter congratulating me, and a blank cheque, which I was being allowed to fill in as a prize for impressing them so much. They informed me that I was the best poet alive and would 'win'.

There was some kind of journey - me leaving the house/building I had been in and going somewhere. I cannot recall this part of the dream. There may have been further conversation with a person/people.

I was then outside on the street in a typical British-looking suburban neighbourhood. It was dark and I was standing beside a low stone wall and some hedges, looking down the road at a radio show which was being broadcast in an open space, under a small white canopy. I realised that the radio broadcast was being organised by BBC 1Xtra and was starring a female who also wrote poetry. I wondered how she was getting this kind of recognition, bearing in mind my recent successes and the fact I had been sent a blank cheque. I thought that I deserved to be regarded as the best in this field, or at least be promoted in this way. I turned and saw DL sat on the small wall behind me. I asked him what he thought of my [poetry] and he said: 'Paloma Faith is better at it than you' which I accepted, but then he said: 'and so is Eve White'. This was the name of the female performing her poetry for the 1Xtra broadcast. I asked him if he honestly thought that she was better than me and he said: 'Of course, she's the best ever!' which made me feel jealous and under-appreciated. DL acted as if I should just accept this fact and move on, but hearing his words made me want to stop writing poetry forever. I did not want to continue if I wasn't regarded as the best or if another female was regarded more highly-skilled than I when I knew in reality that she was mediocre and basic. It seemed like DL was mocking me - he had a smug look on his face. The jealousy and envy that rose up in me was overwhelming. I took the blank cheque, which I appeared to still be holding (although I hadn't noticed it until this time), ripped it up and threw it into his face as hard as I could, hoping that it would make him feel bad for belittling me in this way and not praising my own talents. I also felt annoyed at this point, because I had wasted the opportunity of having unlimited money to spend and had surrendered my prize which had been awarded to me by my greatest fans and advocates (the husband and wife who sent the cheque).

I was then in a room which was brightly lit. There were two females in there - one whom I did not recognise and cannot recall much about, and another who is a composite between RT and a postgraduate student who attends some of the same classes and workshops as I do in real-life (both her and RT wear glasses, have brunette hair and dress in loose, floaty gothic-style clothing). It was Halloween night and RT was in a bath, which was positioned in the centre of the room. The other female (who was kneeling behind RT) was soaping her back and pouring water on her. She encouraged me to do the same to RT and to also stroke and caress her in a sensual/sexual way. I knelt in front of RT and started to do this, although I did not really want to do it. I felt awkward and obliged to do it to make RT feel good about herself and to act as expected of me by the other female who seemed to be enjoying herself. This continued for a while, but I was soon bored of touching RT and rubbing soap on her legs, splashing her with water, making small talk etc. I said that I wanted to stop. RT asked me why I had touched her in a sexual way while she was in the bath and I told her it was because the other female had instructed me to and I had wanted to make RT happy (RT had enjoyed the experience throughout). RT got angry and told me that she only wanted me to touch her in that way if I enjoyed it myself and she was upset that I had only been doing it to keep her happy. She wanted to be in some sort of relationship with me and was acting very hostile because she knew (without asking me) that I didn't feel the same way about her. I felt confused as I didn't know what I had done wrong. RT was now out of the bath and was clothed, although I did not see her get dressed. 

We walked across the room a short distance and found that it was a T-shaped room with white walls. Most of the room was empty, other than the bath being in the main area, and a central supporting column being positioned nearby. At one point I know that I looked out of the window and saw that it was very dark outside and the weather was bad - rainy and windy. Inside, the lights made the white room look yellow in the fluorescent glow. In the T-shaped section of the room was a (somewhat makeshift) coffee shop/cafe with a counter on which was a coffee machine and then some small, round yellow plastic tables and plastic chairs in front of it. RT started to make coffee for us both. I sat at one of the tables. RT said: 'My boyfriend is Italian and he invented coffee'. I told her that this wasn't true and said that someone from an Arabic country probably invented coffee long ago. We started disputing this, with RT standing over me, almost shouting. I invented an Arab man named 'Hassad' and said that 'Hassad was the first man to ever make coffee' just so I had a point of reference with which to argue with RT who was maintaining that her Italian boyfriend was the inventor, when I knew this was wrong, but didn't have precise facts to correct or counteract her untruths. I then realised that RT was in fact 'Eve White' and I felt angry towards her and tricked into engaging with her and touching her in a sexual way, when in fact she was my enemy and rival. I felt somewhat dirty for kneeling down and washing her feet when I considered myself to be superior to her (intellectually - because she seemed to be a liar and quite dull - and physically - because she was frumpy and plain-looking), but also felt inferiority as a result of her getting more recognition and praise for poetry, especially from DL and the radio show.

* There are other elements of this dream which I cannot recall, but I will add them underneath if they come back to me.