  After the fabulous White Tit dream (see blog below), I had another dream about Gravy. Last time he infiltrated my dreams I emailed him the synopsis and of course he didn't reply, and most likely never read it, but strangely I will still email this one to him, for reasons I don't fully understand myself. I know I think in boxes and categories - everything has its place, and sometimes if my thoughts don't end up being shunted at the spot where it feels like they should go, they hang around like poltergeists and cause mischief until I dispose of them properly. I always tell people when I have dreams about them, so dreams about Gravy are emailed to Gravy and that is that. &nbsp; This time, he had returned from Japan and was living in Sydney again, and had been doing so for six months before I realised he was back. He was married to a gorgeous woman with cropped white-blonde hair, and she had a small child, I think a boy, who was half Indonesian, obviously from a previous partner of hers. Gravy was still working in the sound industry but had progressed from Sound Engineer to some kind of stand-around-with-arms-folded-and-observe Boss guy. His younger brother Steven was standing next to him, grown up into a man, looking like an exact replica of Gravy, except he also had white-blonde hair in contrast to Gravy's dirty blonde. Gravy had his dreadlocks again, and Steven had an identical mop snaking from his own head. &nbsp; I observed them standing there at whatever event they were managing, both with arms folded, serious faces, intently watching the stage and nodding along to the music. I kept trying to call out to Gravy but it wasn't coming out of my throat, but I knew he knew I was there, and he wouldn't look in my direction.
Steven turned to me and said something dismissive and angry, and Gravy walked away silently under the guise of doing something important closer to the stage. I screamed at Steven, "tell your brother he sucks! " Scene dissolves. &nbsp; Now I'm sitting on a manicured lawn with Gravy and his wife and we are looking at four small children's books that I have brought as presents for his step-child.
As at the gig, Gravy is quiet and withdrawn, and I sensed an overwhelming defeat in him, like he had taken on board something huge and dark that had killed whatever spark was in him, and he was quietly resigned to an unhappy but bearable life. His wife and he seemed to have a bored but comfortable air between them, as if they had simply been allocated to each other in some kind of destiny lotto.
Nothing about this bothered me, but I felt distinctly curious as to what had happened to him in Japan to have made him so different. &nbsp; End dream. &nbsp; Some of that is too telling and overtly symbolic for words. Do you Yahoo!? urlLink New and Improved Yahoo! Mail - 100MB free storage! 
