Well, I'd like to say I slept well but although it was asleep, I had the most horrendous dreams.
I bought an old speculum from the 50s that came in a green velvet lined box and instructions. I remember it being on a shelf and me finding it really fascinating.
An Eastern European man tried to rape me but didn't. He just undressed me and had me lying on the kitchen floor and I couldn't get away as he kept biting me really hard and it hurt my bum and my legs. There were loads of postcards around and I concentrated on ones of Ossett and Taunton to try and take my mind off it. Eventually I managed to kick him really hard and run away.
I was in a car on a holiday camp and kept trying to escape this traffic warden woman. Eventually I got tired and decided to give myself in but when I was walking towards the woman, a paramedic in a mask tried to accost me. We then realised I wasn't who I was looking for and he let me go and I walked over to this woman.
The last part just before I woke up was that mama died and I had her foot in a pan because I didn't have an urn or anything. I remember panicking because I didn't know what to do with her but I knew I had to do something. I eventually went to this funeral place where this lad stood on a concrete porch at the front and started to put the pan in a bath And fill it up with water. Then I woke up.
I wouldn't even like to start analysing what any of this means.
Monday, 7 October 2013
Tuesday, 9 July 2013
Yoga, bleached jeans, standards conference, Ireland, TSB and comments
So I am writing about the dream that I had last night.
For some reason, yoga was involved but I'm not sure how. I think maybe I was watching people doing yoga, I don't think I was actually doing it myself.
There was a pair of jeans that were straight leg and dark in colour and I think that they were quite cheap, not designer or anything. They were lying on the floor somewhere and they were being covered in bleach, front and back. Then I wore the jeans because I thought they looked much better that way. they probably didn't.
The main part of the dream was that I was at a standards conference somewhere and JW from work was there with me. Part of it was placed in Princes Exchange, near my desk that I used to sit at when I worked for JT and the fire curtain was down in front of the windows so it was a little dark. People were stood in the stairwell though chatting about things and they were wearing smart clothes. At some point there was a speaker up at the front who was talking about standards. and giving an experience about standards.
Ireland for some reason were not really participating. Their delegation was huddled in a corner, talking amongst themselves whenever I saw them. There were Chinese whispers and rumours that 'The Irish' were going to have to pull out from the conference for some reason. It'd turned out that 'The Irish' had lost all their money and were going to have to sell their shares in Lloyds TSB in order to stay afloat.
Someone (S.Gore) wrote lots of comments on the standard and there was another couple loitering around.
And there we go - didn't think any of it would make sense. I think it's quite funny that I dreamed about 'The Irish' losing all their money and selling their shares in Lloyds TSB.
More dreams to follow.
For some reason, yoga was involved but I'm not sure how. I think maybe I was watching people doing yoga, I don't think I was actually doing it myself.
There was a pair of jeans that were straight leg and dark in colour and I think that they were quite cheap, not designer or anything. They were lying on the floor somewhere and they were being covered in bleach, front and back. Then I wore the jeans because I thought they looked much better that way. they probably didn't.
The main part of the dream was that I was at a standards conference somewhere and JW from work was there with me. Part of it was placed in Princes Exchange, near my desk that I used to sit at when I worked for JT and the fire curtain was down in front of the windows so it was a little dark. People were stood in the stairwell though chatting about things and they were wearing smart clothes. At some point there was a speaker up at the front who was talking about standards. and giving an experience about standards.
Ireland for some reason were not really participating. Their delegation was huddled in a corner, talking amongst themselves whenever I saw them. There were Chinese whispers and rumours that 'The Irish' were going to have to pull out from the conference for some reason. It'd turned out that 'The Irish' had lost all their money and were going to have to sell their shares in Lloyds TSB in order to stay afloat.
Someone (S.Gore) wrote lots of comments on the standard and there was another couple loitering around.
And there we go - didn't think any of it would make sense. I think it's quite funny that I dreamed about 'The Irish' losing all their money and selling their shares in Lloyds TSB.
More dreams to follow.
Friday, 5 July 2013
Dreaming
I dream a lot. Even when I'm suffering from insomnia, I tend to have weird dreams in those few hours. It's never really bothered me aside from a couple of re-occuring nightmares although I'm still always surprised by how well I remember my dreams. They're often so vivid, complex, drawn out and I remember most details down to the colour of the backlight on the perspex futuristic gearstick plate in the weird Smart Car I was driving round Hyde Park once, or the smell and look of the pub that I was stood in a dark alley next to and I even drew the hill that it sat on.
I've told people about my dreams before and some have been surprised at how long / vivid / ludicrous they are. I started writing them down last year because I wanted to remember them, and I suppose look back through to see if there were any themes in them or points of interest. I stopped doing that as I didn't have time although I did try to write key words on post it notes as soon as I woke up which were enough to jog my memory to enable me to write a full account when I could.
My mum thinks that there's something to my dreams. I'm not so sure. I sometimes think that I should be worried by the things that I dream about; recently I dreamt about being on the top of a double decker open top bus and watching two brothers who were preparing to assassinate a President of an African country. Something went wrong and they instead ended up killing a black lady called Amy who was sitting on the top deck of the bus. I then remember being outside my old flat near Park Lane College but the little park over the road wasn't a park, it was flattened waste land and rubble and Amy's body was lying there and she was dead. Then I was reading on Twitter and heard on the news about a brave woman who'd died but she was pregnant and the baby had been delivered and had survived. The baby belonged to Amy. I suppose this all sounds quite weird, being around so much death but it doesn't really bother me so much - I don't think there's anything wrong with me or there's a problem. I hope I'm not supposed to worry about it all.
I've decided that it may be easier to electronically record my dreams instead of trying to write them down each time I've had one. I guess they're often not going to make sense and might not make even interesting reading but with my frightful memory, I'm more concerned that I just get them down.
I like that I have my dreams and I love that I remember them. Wouldn't night time be boring without dreams?
I've told people about my dreams before and some have been surprised at how long / vivid / ludicrous they are. I started writing them down last year because I wanted to remember them, and I suppose look back through to see if there were any themes in them or points of interest. I stopped doing that as I didn't have time although I did try to write key words on post it notes as soon as I woke up which were enough to jog my memory to enable me to write a full account when I could.
My mum thinks that there's something to my dreams. I'm not so sure. I sometimes think that I should be worried by the things that I dream about; recently I dreamt about being on the top of a double decker open top bus and watching two brothers who were preparing to assassinate a President of an African country. Something went wrong and they instead ended up killing a black lady called Amy who was sitting on the top deck of the bus. I then remember being outside my old flat near Park Lane College but the little park over the road wasn't a park, it was flattened waste land and rubble and Amy's body was lying there and she was dead. Then I was reading on Twitter and heard on the news about a brave woman who'd died but she was pregnant and the baby had been delivered and had survived. The baby belonged to Amy. I suppose this all sounds quite weird, being around so much death but it doesn't really bother me so much - I don't think there's anything wrong with me or there's a problem. I hope I'm not supposed to worry about it all.
I've decided that it may be easier to electronically record my dreams instead of trying to write them down each time I've had one. I guess they're often not going to make sense and might not make even interesting reading but with my frightful memory, I'm more concerned that I just get them down.
I like that I have my dreams and I love that I remember them. Wouldn't night time be boring without dreams?
Friday, 24 May 2013
My stereotypical Inner City Mixed Race Broken Family
I never really thought I made efforts to move away from the stereotype that was probably applied to me. I don't think I ever really thought about it as a child but as a grown up (...) I can see now that maybe I did. I played cello, liked poetry, liked metal and as an adult, I still like these things but I practise Buddhism now and try to be an all round good person. I was going to say good egg then but I'm scared of eggs. I've written that word twice now.
Then again, I have been arrested twice, taken a lot of drugs, slept with people who retrospectively, I shouldn't have done and never really did very well at school.
I guess now I think about it, I feel cross that my family is the stereotypical mixed race inner city broken family and that makes me very sad. I always thought I did the whole 'I'm better than this' and now I just think I'm a stereotype that is a product of another stereotype. I don't think I am better than this.
I'll list other members of my inner city mixed race broken family but for now, I'll write about two. (ICMRBF) consists of:
Father - black man who is an adulterous and spineless man who cannot persevere with anything whatsoever. He is verbally and physically abusive to his family but manages to convince others (including the women that he cheats on the mother with) that he is an okay guy. He runs off with one of his mistresses, leaving the rest of the ICMFBR to fend for themselves. He then has an epiphany, he is 'more' than this, he is 'better' than this and by buying Molton Brown skincare products and learning to play golf, he shows everyone that he really is better than this. Yes, he owns plus fours but he still somehow manages to slip back into patois whenever anywhere near LS7. Obviously the dirty little secret that he's black is forgotten by the time he gets back to LS18, he thinks nobody knows. Black man gone whack.
Daughter 1 - Eldest daughter. That is me so it's hard to write without sounding like an arsehole. Total Daddy's girl, dotes on her father, oblivious to what is really doing on. Has some non-sexual reverse Oedipus complex and dislikes the mother. Is probably the most gutted of all when father leaves but instead of breaking down, Daughter 1 gets all nasty and hostile. Gets kicked out of house after fisticuffs with mother and avoids getting involved for a long, long time. Even now, feels a little disconnected even though two young nieces are worth doting on and getting involved her. Daughter 1 goes all YOUNG, SINGLE, INDEPENDENT BLACK WOMAN WHO DON'T NEED NO MAN for a bit after a brief abusive relationship. Doesn't settle for anything that's not right but has some very deep seated need to be loved and needed, even though she thinks she doesn't. Has a 4 year relationship that fizzles out due to boredom, again goes YOUNG, SINGLE (you get the gist) woman before getting into another relationship. Decides never to settle for anyone that isn't right. Likelihood of dying alone is high. Daughter 1 doesn't mind so much, it's easier than opening up to someone again that doesn't 'get it' and going through the trauma all over again. BROWN WOMAN GONE ????
More ICMRBF later.
Then again, I have been arrested twice, taken a lot of drugs, slept with people who retrospectively, I shouldn't have done and never really did very well at school.
I guess now I think about it, I feel cross that my family is the stereotypical mixed race inner city broken family and that makes me very sad. I always thought I did the whole 'I'm better than this' and now I just think I'm a stereotype that is a product of another stereotype. I don't think I am better than this.
I'll list other members of my inner city mixed race broken family but for now, I'll write about two. (ICMRBF) consists of:
Father - black man who is an adulterous and spineless man who cannot persevere with anything whatsoever. He is verbally and physically abusive to his family but manages to convince others (including the women that he cheats on the mother with) that he is an okay guy. He runs off with one of his mistresses, leaving the rest of the ICMFBR to fend for themselves. He then has an epiphany, he is 'more' than this, he is 'better' than this and by buying Molton Brown skincare products and learning to play golf, he shows everyone that he really is better than this. Yes, he owns plus fours but he still somehow manages to slip back into patois whenever anywhere near LS7. Obviously the dirty little secret that he's black is forgotten by the time he gets back to LS18, he thinks nobody knows. Black man gone whack.
Daughter 1 - Eldest daughter. That is me so it's hard to write without sounding like an arsehole. Total Daddy's girl, dotes on her father, oblivious to what is really doing on. Has some non-sexual reverse Oedipus complex and dislikes the mother. Is probably the most gutted of all when father leaves but instead of breaking down, Daughter 1 gets all nasty and hostile. Gets kicked out of house after fisticuffs with mother and avoids getting involved for a long, long time. Even now, feels a little disconnected even though two young nieces are worth doting on and getting involved her. Daughter 1 goes all YOUNG, SINGLE, INDEPENDENT BLACK WOMAN WHO DON'T NEED NO MAN for a bit after a brief abusive relationship. Doesn't settle for anything that's not right but has some very deep seated need to be loved and needed, even though she thinks she doesn't. Has a 4 year relationship that fizzles out due to boredom, again goes YOUNG, SINGLE (you get the gist) woman before getting into another relationship. Decides never to settle for anyone that isn't right. Likelihood of dying alone is high. Daughter 1 doesn't mind so much, it's easier than opening up to someone again that doesn't 'get it' and going through the trauma all over again. BROWN WOMAN GONE ????
More ICMRBF later.
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