The Gay Agenda is once again accepting submissions. If you have a dream which you'd like to have interpreted with a very definite bias, send it to Telpher@gmail.com, with the words "THE GAY AGENDA" in the subject field. 

Born That Way

Paula S. of Houston, Texas writes:

There has been an ordeal that I can’t remember but for some reason it feels like I am escaping something. I don’t know or can’t remember what it is. I am driving a Jeep, Sigourney Weaver is in the passenger seat. The weather is awful, the Jeep has the top off, it has been raining but quit, it is dark but there is some light, the road is narrow on a mountain side, there is a steep drop off on the driver’s side, many feet down. The windshield of the Jeep is missing. The headlights don’t work. It is tense. We need to get off the mountain but it is difficult to see. Sigourney takes over the driving, I crawl out to the front bumper of the Jeep to see the road better and let Sigourney know if I see debris or potholes or limbs. The wind is picking up, it is getting really tense, then suddenly we are at the bottom of the mountain and we look out to the horizon. The view is an endless, still sea. The are hundreds of womens’ arms sticking up out of the sea, palms of the right hand only facing us. No bodies, no heads, just single right arms and hands. The sun is slowly coming up. I wake up.

The ordeal you're escaping from is heterosexuality, and it's no accident that Sigourney Weaver is in the car, and eventually takes the wheel. Do you have any idea how many baby dykes realized they were baby dykes on account of Ellen Ripley kicking ass, outliving every man around her, and generally looking great in tighty-whities and a tank top? 

That dim, narrow road you're making your way down? That's no road - it's a vaginal canal, which is not only pretty damned significant, in terms of lesbian sexuality, but it's the place where we all got our start. This dream is about rebirth - which can be scary and confusing but, ultimately opens us up to opportunities. You stepping out of the Jeep to make sure there are no potholes or debris, and the fact that you're in an open vehicle with no windshield is your subconscious telling that nothing will stand in your way, as you flee from the horrors of a heteronormative society to a vast and tranquil Sapphic sea. And that sea? It's full of women showing your their right palms. Did you know that, in palmistry, the left palm of a woman signifies what she's accumulated or constructed, while the right palm of a woman signifies what she was born with? Heed the siren call and jump in, Paula - the queer water's just fine and, really, you know you were born that way. 

As for the heterosexual nightmare this dream has you leaving behind? I say you nuke the entire thing from orbit. It's the only way to be sure. 

All The King's Horses

Julia A, of Brooklyn, NY writes:

I never remember my dreams but last night : when I woke up there was a full scale party already going on in my apt. I tried to quickly make my way to the shower in my pajamas with my hair standing on end .When I muscled my way into the bathroom ( my dream tub is clawfoot BTW and my dream bathroom is completely renovated and light and airy. ) there were several people congregating there. And I had to ask them to leave. Someone who looked distinctly like A cross between John Lithgow playing Winston Churchill and Humpty Dumpty was huddled pensively in my tub and I had to offer my hand to help him climb out , which he did very very cautiously trying not to fall ...

Go home, guys! The heterosexual soiree's over! Julia's ready for a spiritual - and sexual - cleanse, and that's not just regular, old bathwater. Calgon cannot always take you away. In Julia's dream, the most fragile part of herself is bathing in TRUTH, and emerging as if a brand, new baby, breaking free of the amniotic sack. 

Winston Churchill vaguely appears in this dream because, in life, Churchill said, "The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is." He was right. Ultimately, there is no escaping the truth, and Julia's truth is that she's gay. 

Coming out is a private, fragile business, but Julia is right there, being her own best friend and protector, and making sure the way out into the gay light of day doesn't cause any cracks or fractures. 

A Tangled Web

Wendi Freeman, of Chicago Ill., who made a generous donation to the relief effort in Puerto Rico, writes:

Every night I like to go to sleep to guided meditation videos on youtube. Last night I picked one that was called "erotic lucid dreaming".

I dreamt I had to go to this small town for a friend's funeral. Somehow I got stuck there and had to take this terrible factory job. On my way home from work one night, I see this giant tarantula attacking a baby Godzilla.I manage to chase the spider away but the baby monster was bleeding too much and died in my arms. It was very upsetting! Neither lucid nor erotic!

This dream is all about the contrast between the security of being constrained and the risk involved in branching out to seek out what you truly desire. You find yourself traveling to a small town for a funeral, Wendi - a little death. Are you familiar with the term "la petite mort"? It's a French euphemism for sexual climax. Translated into English, it's "the little death." Orgasms are supposed to be good - I think we can all agree on that. Instead of feeling good, though, your little death leaves you feeling "stuck" and having to work at a "terrible factory job." The worst thing about factory jobs is that they're all about doing the same thing, day in, day out. There's no variety. Nobody loves a factory job, and nobody loves mediocre sex. All of this points to your dissatisfaction with your current sexual situation, the feeling that you're trapped in it, and your desire to branch out and try new things. 

Tarantulas are spiders. Amazing creatures, spiders. In a dream rife with imagery about being stuck and dissatisfied, this spider represents possibilities.  Spiders are incredibly versatile, and can adjust to a wide range of habitats. They're creators - have you ever looked at how beautiful a spider web actually is? In a dream which takes place in a small, seemingly hopeless town, in which you find yourself stuck, here's Ms. Arachnid - she's strong, resilient, and industrious. She's also sadly misunderstood: tarantulas are feared by many, but they're actually harmless to humans. Let's see...strong, resilient, industrious, misunderstood...? Who does all of this remind me of? Oh, yeah: LESBIANS. 

This dream is about being trapped in a heterosexual life, where even your orgasms are disappointing, and the mixture of enticement and fear you have for that which you so obviously crave: life as a lesbian. 

Baby Godzilla represents your desire to have children. Your effort to save it from the clutches of the spider represents the inner struggle you're clearly living with: if you pull yourself out of the trap of heterosexuality, and take the lesbian plunge, you will be killing any hope that exists of becoming a mother. This fear, however, is unfounded. It's 2017, and we've come a long way, baby: lesbians are becoming mothers in droves. You really CAN have it all. 

Leave that bleak, tiny town called Heteroville, and welcome to Dyketown. It's family-friendly, these days, and they're hiring at the food co-op.

Taking the Dive

Meaddows Ryan, of New York, who made a generous donation to the Puerto Rican relief effort, writes:

God I love the Gay Agenda. I had a dream! That I remembered! Here it is:

After 13 years clean and sober, I was on a major bender involving drinking, cocaine, and Quaaludes. I was barhopping to all these different dive places on some shady-as-fuck waterfront, and trying to get more drugs. I was in the company of a real-life friend of mine who is in fact a lesbian, and enjoying the feeling of having her escort me around, especially since she was extremely well connected, so we got the celebrity treatment wherever we went.

At one point we stopped at a movie theater that was outdoors. They would strap you into something that was like an electric chair, but it was actually your movie theater seat, and then they would catapult you through the air and you would land in a square slot where you were locked down until the end of the movie. I don't remember what the film was but I know it was something really corny from the 80s.

Finally we got more drugs - for some reason it was imperative that I get two and only two more Quaaludes - and we ended up at this other waterfront bar that was run by women and they had about half the outdoor bar/restaurant space set up for homeless people. The homeless people each had a small table to define their space, and they kept their treasures on them and also their meals, cocktails, whatever. It was a beautiful idea and an act of kindness on the part of the restaurant owner. I remember thinking "I wish I had a table like that" and then I woke up.

First off, Meaddows, congratulations on your sobriety! I'm sure this achievement is no small feat. Addiction is a terrible thing - something which, as you well know, people have to work hard at controlling for their entire lives. Interesting, then, that your dream equates spending time bar-hopping in the company of a lesbian, with addiction. 

The "major bender" you describe is a metaphor for another type of indulgence, and it's no accident that this "bender" is all wrapped up around a lesbian friend whose company affords you a sort of VIP status. You're suddenly SOMEBODY. That bender? It's lesbian sex, and it's presented to you in this particular package - "involving drinking, cocaine, and Quaaludes" - not because it's a dangerous and destructive force in your life, but because you subconsciously find the idea of sex with women to be downright intoxicating.    

The imagery you describe in the movie theater is very telling. First off, the movie theater is outdoors. This detail is all about exposure: both your fear of being on display and vulnerable, and the potential joy of being exposed - being OUT. There's a duality there, and it's for you to ultimately decide which side will win out: the side that equates the experience of being "outside" with being exposed and "locked down," or the side that can actually kick back and enjoy the movie. Do you want a drive-in movie, or a dive-in movie? The choice is yours.

Your dream ends on what I consider a very positive note which hints at future self-acceptance. It involves "more drugs" - normally a terrible thing for an addict but, again, we're not talking about actual cocaine and booze, but about indulgence in good, old fashioned dyking out. The "homeless" people you describe are others who, like you, have spent a lifetime not really belonging anywhere. In the real world, self-loathing, closeted homosexuals truly ARE homeless: they don't belong in the world of straight people, and they rage against accepting that there might well be space at the queer table for them. They reject their true nature in an effort to belong and fit in (have a home, as it were) in the straight world and, ironically, end up having no place, at all where they belong/fit in. Homeless, indeed. 

But your dream is about the END of homelessness for these folks and, ultimately, for yourself. It ends up in a utopian setting, where the homeless actually get to "define their space," and where "each had a small table ..and they kept their treasures on them..." This is your subconscious telling you that there is, indeed, a space at the table for you, ALL of you, including the treasure of your true sexual identity. You don't need to throw that away or hide it in order to find a place where you fit in. In fact, you need to embrace it and carry it with you, always, because you're emotionally and sexually HOMELESS without it. And, deep down, you know this about yourself. It's why you say "I wish I had a table like that." You're ready for dinner, and there's a seat waiting for you at the Sapphic table - the table where all your treasures are more than welcome.

You're at a crossroads, Meaddows, and I have one piece of wisdom for you: the alternative to being 'strapped into something like an electric chair,' is being strapped ON to something that's a lot more fun, and nowhere near as dangerous as drugs and alcohol. Cheers, queers!

Move Over, She's Driving

Julie Nussbaum, who made a generous donation to the relief effort in Puerto Rico, sends The Gay Agenda a two-parter:

First dream, Dan was in a car. He put it in reverse and then the car started to speed up like he was flooring it, going faster and faster until he woke up.

Second Dream. I was running through the forest and it was beautiful and green, but so hot. I looked down and was shocked to see luxurious, Elmo-red hair covering my legs and arms too. 

Julie - I'm assuming Dan is your partner/husband. The first dream is pretty self-explanatory: it reveals that you know, deep down, that sex with men is backwards, the wrong direction for you, something which is all about speed and chaos, over which you feel you have no control, and which ends abruptly, leaving you without joy. Dan driving the car symbolizes your belief that sex with men is all about men being in control, while women just sit back and let whatever happens happen. The fact that he goes "faster and faster" until he wakes up is a direct reference to the wham-bam-thank-you-man nature of heterosexual intercourse, which is all too often nothing more than some straight guy banging away, faster and faster, until he's done. This may be satisfying to the driver, but it doesn't do a hell of a lot for the passenger. It seems clear to me that you're not interested in hailing an Uber that's driving in the wrong direction, but in being a fully-fledged co-pilot on a sexual journey that moves forward at a speed with which you're comfortable. It's also obvious that having a man at the wheel just isn't cutting it: in fact, it ends up going the wrong way, being all about speed, not precision, and coming to a jarring, joyless end. In this scenario, his ride is over, but you haven't gotten anywhere. Heterosexual men are notorious for their reluctance to ask directions when they're lost. Take your next road trip with a woman: we love maps, we have no fear of asking for directions, and we're open to letting someone else take the wheel, sometimes. We also understand that making pit stops along the way is one of life's necessities, and that we'll get there when we get there. Lesbians know that getting there is half the trip.

Your second dream is about the freedom and satisfaction you anticipate if you dare act on your lesbionic impulses. You describe running through a forest. This forest represents a wondrous place you're eager to visit: the lesbian world. The entire landscape of Sapphism is new ("green") to you, but also incredibly attractive ("beautiful") and, let's face it, arousing as all hell ("so hot.") Dreams offer us a safe space in which to explore and take chances in ways we might not do in our waking hours. In this dream, you're exploring not just your sexuality (obviously gay, btw) but also your desire to break loose of patriarchal norms, even ones as basic as shaving your body hair. Your dykey, forest-running dream self isn't just letting her hair grow, but finding it luxurious - freedom of this kind can be luxurious, but only if you dare seize it during your waking hours, as well as in your dreams. 

Woman, you just came out as both a lesbian and a feminist. 

BTW, Elmo, of the luxurious hair, appreciates your support of the Puerto Rican relief effort. 

Meat Is Murder

Amy Timlin, of PA, who made a generous donation to the relief effort in Puerto Rico, writes:

I had a dream an old friend and I got together at Ruth's Chris and caught up after a long time. It was really quite lovely. We promised to keep in touch. When I got home, there was a salt shaker, two forks, a full sized dinner plate, three napkins and a menu inside my small purse. WTF? How did she do that? Like fucking Houdini. What does it mean?

This is so gay.

You dreamt about going to a great steak house with a female friend, but there's no mention of meat. If anything, your subconscious mind left its virtual visit to Ruth's Chris not only disinterested in beef, but amazed that a female has managed to fill your purse in a way it's never been full, before. The purse, of course, represents your vagina, which has suddenly received attention from an unexpected source. The loot your female friend has placed in the purse is also meaningful: The menu represents your subconscious belief that sex with a woman would offer you choices, as opposed to the pre-packaged, predictable TV dinner that sex with men has been. Salt is a seasoning used to keep food from tasting bland and boring. The salt which has been symbolically planted in your "purse," is much the same - it represents the fact that you know, in your heart, that sex with men is flavorless and dull, while sex with women offers that flavorful, salty zing you crave. The dinner plate is not just ANY dinner plate, but a "full-sized" dinner plate, from which you may truly feast, as opposed to the miniature, portion-controlled servings you've been settling for when having sex with men. Each of the two forks has its own meaning. The first is just an ordinary fork - it's your desire to explore intimacy with women saying to you, "There's a setting at the Sapphic table for you:dig in."  The second fork is a visual metaphor - and a pretty crappy bit of dreamworld wordplay, if I'm going to be completely honest - for the sexual fork in the road at which you find yourself. 

You compare the agility with which your female friend has carried out the feat of somehow capturing your purse and having her way with it, with the skill of Houdini. Houdini, if you recall, was an escape artist. This dream is about escaping from a life that offers small portions of bland, tasteless meat, in favor of something more nourishing and delicious. Whether or not you veer left at the fork in the road is up to you, but life is supposed to be a banquet, not an exercise in self-denial.