I am in bed. It is a luxurious large bed, but there is no canopy or anything.
The room itself seems white, but I don't sense many colors here. Like a glowing white.
Shining.
I am not ready to get out of bed yet.
I am ready for a woman's company, but no woman is here and no woman comes.
I seem to be handling this pretty well. My emotions and thoughts about this are there, but not overshadowing.
Someone like unto my Dad comes in. He says I have to get up now. I tell him I do not wish to I am not ready. I turn over away from him and pull the covers over my shoulder and close my eyes and let the negative emotions like frustration and anger dull out of me even when he is trying to exacerbate them. He storms off in a huff.
I settle back in bed semi-sleeping, wrapped in the luxury of the covers and the heavenly way the bed takes my body's weight. The sheets are so soft on my skin, the pillow the perfect balance between firmness and softness, and I have a dull almost non-existent smell that are so very calming and nice. I don't know what the smells are. There is light rose there for sure, but there are other smells too. Two others I feel.
Alone again, My readiness my randiness is out in the open, where is she? But no, I do not call for her or get too frustrated. She will come when she comes, I have waited this long I only need to wait a little longer. I take care of myself a little but, but only for the briefest of moments. Just adding to the luxury of the moment, just what feels good to add to this moment not in a sinful or hedonistic way but it just is.
Soon I drift back into a waking sleep, like a nap where you rest your eyes.
That is when someone comes in the door. A man-servent sent by my dad. Now he can't do it himself, he has to send a virtual slave of his. The man seems foreign, Latino-esque I guess? He is small, short, brown, has the briefest of a brushstroke of facial hair on his lip and a V shape of a soul patch. His hair is maybe 3-7 days growth from bald it's so short.
He is doing as he has been told. Coming to tell me I need to get up. It's policy. It's embarrassing and wrong for me to be still in bed. There are things that need to be done.
It is when he comes in that I almost have a feeling of place. I get the sense of "boat". But I feel no movement and so no other sense of this. It seems a large boat, so a cruise liner or a large yacht?
I tell him I do not have to do what my father says. He starts to protest. But I tell him he does not have to do what my father says either. He stops, goes quiet. Leaves teh room. He seems unsure. But I know he will not be back, he won't be browbeaten by my dad to come back and try again, so that is good.
The dream ends sometime after I go back to bed. Letting go of anxiety of not doing as my father wishes, accepting the sweet luxury of lying in bed as long as I wish not from defiance but because I feel like it, drifting off to a quiet restful sleep.
