As real as tomorrow's headlines

[avevale_intelligencer]

Very conventional dream this morning (thus proving I slept, yay). There was a big concert of my music at a huge and very posh venue, all pre-recorded of course (I know, I know, why would anyone come to a concert hall to watch me push a button, just go with it), and I had spent all night tweaking and twiddling so that it would sound gorgeous. Someone adversarial was going to be there, either a rival composer or a critic or somebody, and he was played don't ask me why by Adrian Paul (maybe because I think he would look better playing me than I ever will, but there we go) and as the audience were filing in we discovered that I had neglected to put the music on to a CD. So there we were, me I believe actually (ghastly thought) in evening dress, pushing through narrow corridors past crowds of dressed-up concert-goers, trying to find an iPod jack while staying out of sight of the man who sat, smiling slightly, in the front row of the circle, waiting for me to frod up.

Quite standard and easily interpreted, I'd say.