Here woke up today, sweating and delirium.
Well, Yes, gondolas in the dream, floated on the Dead, for some reason, the sea. I clearly remember the bitter, painful water. But like, he was not in a gondola, not in the water.
Immediately after waking up I remembered the foundations of psychoanalysis (see Dreams and dreaming of Herr Freud). Well remembered - scratched his head, slowly poprobovav to understand that the first thing I associate with that damned pot-vessel. Immediately stopped it up, blushing...
While washing, I thought: where is the last gondola in my boring life, happened? And were whether at all? Alive, so to say, not in the movie.
And, imagine, I remembered: summer under Peter).
Even a picture of an dug:
Decided again not to hire psychoanalysis, will return to the underworld. Well as the other - the dream decided to read.
Opened, then, a site like dream interpretation.ru and depressed:
"The man who fell into the water from the overturned gondola will finally forget his hopeless love. "
On the other hand, " Seeing yourself as a gondolier means success in love."
That's not navernulis I gondola in a dream, and not a gondolier, God forgive me, was (just remember).
Now what?
Maybe Pavlov was right, and dreams- " unprecedented combination of experienced impressions?"
And sometimes dreams are just dreams? No reason for psychoanalysis?
PS After anecdote/dream inspired, do not judge strictly:
