Dreaming

Last night I dreamt about the Beatles and the Bee Gees. They and I were standing in what looked like a recording studio. We were all separated by the sound proof glass but could still hear each other. Barry Gibb was holding someone's hand, I'm guessing one of his brothers', lifted it up, kissed it, and said "There are only seventeen of us left, maybe we should record an album before it's too late" to the Beatles.

John Lennon - he's alive in this dream, set twenty or so years after the bands' haydays - replied, "you'll do anything to..." something about using them for publicity or getting a new album out there. It was snarky, whatever he said. He was standing with two other members of the band and I get this feeling it wasn't Paul McCartney.

I have this feeling that this was an AU my brain cooked up for entertainment and speculative purposes, an AU where Paul McCartney was the one that was murdered and John wasn't. Which, for some reason, is actually a bigger tragedy.

I'm not a fan of either band. It's not that I don't like the music (especially the Beatles), more like I just never saw what others saw in them. But in the dream was this sense of sadness, of time passing and loved ones dying.

It was weird.

And now I think I want to write.

Happy Friday everyone! *waves from the couch*