In recent days, and every since the Internet decided to celebrate Ernest Hemingway’s birthday, I’ve seen several articles detailing how his suicide was the final outcome of a man dealing with a sexual identity crisis. A number of scholars are citing letter that he wrote over the years to his many wives.
It makes me wonder what these same scholars would have to say about me and the fact that this morning, I had a dream in which I was young woman, size A cup titties and under my lacy panties a vagina and clit that I was unable to arouse. I don’t see how any of this has to do with one’s sexual identity.
It was a dream, admittedly a very strange dream, but I don’t think it’ll affect Taylor Swift or myself one bit. I would like to know if she had a strange dream wherein she became a pudgy, old man with a tiny and broken wee-wee.
If she did, I’m sure she’ll write a song about it and it’ll be another hit for her.
Personally, I think all of these screwball dreams are being caused by my working too hard on ‘stream of consciousness’ writing and that this is the result. And why couldn’t I dream I was an intelligent brunette, Megan Fox perhaps?
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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