What is the meaning in a dream of famish

Oh, the celebration could be heard as I enter the courtyard; people dancing in line, torch light blowing in a slight breeze. “Zsu!” Patrizia gathers me in her arms and draws me into the row of revelers. Joy! Dancing, laughing, and merriment! Excitement on the ground and ecstatic energy in the air! Various beautiful people feel the drink and gaiety. I stop exuberated by the tables of food, famished by the traveling. There is so much to eat ???adjusted to between the drumming, strings, long lines of people holding hands weaving in and out, and around! I can’t decide what not to choose to eat when a tall man stares down at me, smiling. “Hello.” I say. “Hello,” he says back. I grab some prsut, sausage, cheese, and reach for the honey when, “Not yet!” young Lydia grins and pulls me into the weave. Mr. Beautiful quietly reaches for my plate and when I return, I find him sitting licking his fingers. “I would like some more!” “Indeed, as would I!” Returning to the table, with candles, and plates of fruit, cheese, olives, he introduces himself, half shy half forward. “I am kin to Mirabella.” “Kristo, I know of you. You paint.” He puts prsut on her plate and reaches for a wine goblet, ignoring the wine. “Awkward silence,” he finally says. * The night sky lit up, vibrant and full of stars. The moon hung over a branch of her favorite tree when the first guests arrived. Carriages and horses began to align the drive. She left behind the idea that any hope in salvaging what remained of this “marriage” with Istven. Zsuzanna needed to return to her roots for inner guidance and the wisdom of (name of older woman mentor). Musicians played their pipes and strings, drumming set the pace of the dance. Zsuzanna stood gazing out over this Eden when someone grabbed her from behind to join in the line dance. Hoisting her skirts she forgot her woes, and partook in the merriment. Krsto was present. His family held a long loyal alliance with various noble lineage, and he her only kinship with the world he wished to forget.

I was living in a trailer, or mobile home as my Mom called them, and had spent the day sanding the finished drywall of a house, and came home. Mom said I needed to park my car between Honeoye and West Bloomfield and walk to Canada to sell Salsa. And, there I was, covered in caked drywall dust walking to Canada. I walked through the night and by 10:00am or so, the next day, I was in Canada, famished, and came upon a diner that had a Community bathroom/shower area. I was eager to rinse the drywall dust off. This gorgeous girl was standing in line behind me, waiting for the shower. She was talking about weed legalization in Canada and how the "weeders" and "puritans" were in conflict over the whole thing. I, however, couldn't concern myself with this, because I had Salsa to sell.

I had a dream about and their honourable men are famished,