I am very wet today, and not in the good way. I woke up this morning in a lovely warm bedroom with lovely warm dreams in my head all snuggly and comfortable. I put on my cold functional work clothes, well my jacket’s ok, and left the house, stepping into rain that I believe would be described as torrential. So I started walking to the train station, annoyed at myself for not having the forethought to have an umbrella with me and for having only a light ‘summer’ jacket when I realised I’d forgotten my wallet.
So I walked all the way back to the lovely warm bedroom, retrieved my wallet and went back to the station where I missed my train. There of course is no rain shelter at the station so I stood in the toxic deluge and waited. So eventually I get on my train, travel to the station where I get my tram and, hey cool looks like the tram stop's closed, refurbishing the line? Great! I’m sorry what’s that you say? it’s hard to hear you over the rain, the next stop is closed too? Cool!
So anyway blah blah I’m wet and miserable. Although I did get to spend 15 minutes awkwardly positioning myself under a hand dryer, so the days not been all bad!
Speaking of dreams, I never remember mine. You know how people remember their dreams and then for some reason think you’d be interested in hearing them (so it wasn’t your mother? And then you were in Paris? And your face melted? And the ground was purple? And you were looking for your keys? No, please continue. I am completely and utterly entranced by this thrilling narrative)? Well I never remember mine, except for maybe in those seconds betwixt sleep and wake. A time when it is said the gods themselves have a pure conduit to a mans soul! Never mind that last sentence, I’ll calm down now.
Anyway, so whatever my dreams were, I don’t know but I had a vague memory that they were vaguely interesting stories. I read a while back about how some writers write down their dreams to get ideas so that thought was in my mind. I thought to myself “Lucius (I kind of like that name), Lucius, perhaps if you slip back into your slumber YOU WILL RECAPTURE YOUR DREAMS WHICH I’VE A FEELING WERE GREAT STORIES!”
“Ok” I replied to myself “ I have about 3 minutes before I have to get up. This better work”
So I slip back to sleep a little and, believe it or not, I was looking at some sort of book or dvd back cover. “Oh great I’ll just read the blurb” I thought “Cool”
So, just before I start reading, this person pops up, obscuring the video cover, and starts talking some nonsense. I don’t know what she was saying but that’s not important. What’s important is that I realised, my subconscious is fucking with me. I mean seriously, it knows what it’s doing. What this is, is my subconscious intentionally and maliciously trolling me.
(Hey now that I think about it wasn’t this plan doomed from the start? Because your right hemisphere is dominant when you’re dreaming so you can’t make out words? Stupid right hemisphere…Yeah I’m pretty sure that’s true it was in an episode of Batman the animated series one time.)
Anyway, Subconscious: I’ll get you, I don’t know how but I’ll get you you slag. You think you’re safe? Secretly dictating my actions from your lair? In my own mind? No, you are going down my friend. And I mean friend in that sarcastic threatening way gangsters say it.
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