A Disintegration Loop

A final post for the year, sent early to avoid my forgetting; 'I am planning a holiday with old Uni chums, in much the same way as the TDEER weekend happened. I have to travel in advance of the group by train to scope out where it is we are going. Whilst on the train it becomes obvious to me that I have forgotten completely. Never mind, I'm in Norwich suddenly, except it is The City's version of Norwich, so part St.Ives, part LA. I've reached the centre on the Uni bus, which I was inexplicably not charged for. A teenage couple behind me serenade each other, in a way not dissimilar to Palomino Molero in Llosa's book of the same name. When I disembark, I walk around and look at the long bearded men that seem to populate the promenade. Following a kid through some back streets I emerge at UEA, but an odd hydroponic style version where everything is under three inches of water. My camera won't work. When I try to take pictures with the faulty camera, a man holds a p

The dream below, a very current one, combines a brief mention of the Mostyn Gallery, a recollection of seeing Peter Sallis, and my brief annoyance at a four star hotel for having no locks on their toilet doors, though a man didn't walk in. It is another Asda dream. Depressing. I think it is because I remembered that I left there over a year ago. It is also the second dream I have had involving an art show in a supermarket. Any way; 'I am shopping with a small old man, who may or may not be Peter Sallis. He roams aimlessly, pointing things out like the fact some of the crisps are called Jorges Borges – which I remark is pretty classy for a supermarket . Zoe is also there, looking for baking stuff which they don't have. Also, a faint hint of some mad woman at the old style deli. There is a closed art show in the space where George once was. In the toilets, a man walks in on me as I finish taking a shit. I grab him by the neck and throw him in to a mirror, breaking it. 'Ha

This one was very recent, with characters inspired, I suppose, by watching Never Say Never Again, the anomaly in the 007 canon which seemed to involve the input of no-one from the original series. It is also influenced, I think, by the programme about tigers that was on BBC One the other day, featuring an ensemble cast of largely superfluous naturalists who wandered up and down a river looking at shits. 'In a high mountain forest, most likely China, with an explorer friend who resembles Max von Sydow. We are searching for a Mamon, a rare sort of bear/wolf/lion hybrid. In reality, it is Mexican slang for 'absurd fuckhead'. Whilst climbing a slope, we spot one hiding in an abandoned border post, but by the time we reach it, it has gone. On the opposite slope border guards move about beneath oversized comedy hats. The border guards on the mountain we occupy are angry with us for following what they consider to be an evil creature. A man draws me an example which I vaguely reco

Having now lived in York for a year or more, my selection turns to a dream from the first week back, involving extreme cold and soldiers who on reflection are quite similar to the front cover art of PS3 failure 'Haze'. I think it is partially inspired by a trip to Edinburgh- 'In the Himalayas, staying in some sort of lodge with close friends. The night skies are purple and cold. I walk in the snow with Zoe, and wander up a short incline to what is 'Everest'. The temperature drop is considerable. We go back a few times over successive days (though the days themselves are not featured in any way aside from brief glimpses of wooden lodges and warm drinks that are more akin to Switzerland than Nepal; the layout of the area is the same as the opening to Goldeneye, with the start point being the aforementioned incline). We leave at an unspecified time, but Thos chooses to stay on at the lodge. I am convinced that with the rest of us leaving he will freeze to death. This t

Whilst rooting about in old notebooks to try and find a short story I am cannibalising, this old dream popped up. Normally they go in to the book to the right of the bed, but this one some how ended up in a Uni notebook from 2005, about ten pages before the aforementioned short (you can tell how much I enjoyed my 3rd year lectures). 'At a temple run by a friend. I am not religious, but I want to show his endeavour my support. Many faiths worship there. I am unsure what specific religions are involved. I am also apparently in some kind of homosexual relationship with the receptionist. The layout of the building is like that or the department of biology at the university of Northampton, but it sits on the site of The Barrels pub. The A505 has been replaced by allotments. One evening, there is an attack on the temple. A green eyed woman uses some sort of swirling blue fire to sweep away furniture etc. She sucks people in to a vacuum also. I escape via a half open window and take to t

I believe this dream happened during my third year in Norwich (I should really start dating the scribbles). The most vivid elements were the map I studied for some time, much longer than the descriptions of the rest of the dream put together, and the disturbing Ballardian landscape we wandered through. Suburbia is indeed disturbing (I was childishly tempted to write disturbia), and this is not helped by me being on my third Ballard novel in a row. Normally, I'll read one book and then avoid the author for an age, but this time has been very odd. Instead of dreaming about new Ballard-inspired things, I am instead reminded of things in their already past, imagined by my brain as fresh directions in a familiar city. Truly horrific. Anyway... 'We are living in a leafy suburb of London. Many of us, including Chris and Lauren Mather, go to collect Lee and Alison from a train that resembles those used by the Nazi's to transport Jews/homosexuals/gypsy's/general non-Aryan's

A zombie celebrity based dream, featuring the usual city but this time submerged beneath the sea. Retrospectively, I suppose the place was sort of a cross between Rapture in Bioshock, and Blade Runner's Los Angeles 2017. It also marks the first dream I've had involving the library. 'A city submerged underwater, with occasional tower blocks peeking out through the wet that are impossible to navigate from the surface. Zombies abound (I've seen Day of the Dead recently, so not the usual preoccupation), but none can swim. I travel through underwater tunnels to a spiral staircase where zombie Laura Tobin and Olly from The Thick of It don't realise I am edible. Eventually, through my own stupidity and incessant yelling, I give the game away and have to flee. I escape to a swanky new glass tower, where workmen attempt to build whilst fighting off zombies with plastic sheeting and tools. From a distance, one looks like Ben Affleck. I enter at the top of the tower, and decid

Not especially old this, very vivid. It followed an early morning of extreme sickness in which I managed to read 60 pages of Philip Hoare's excellent 'Leviathan', whilst in the toilet, but enough of that...this dream essentially involved multiple versions of me imagining my own waking, none of which actually took place. 'I awake from a restless sleep, convinced that a fire is present somewhere in the building. It is not like a regular fire, as it doesn't grow, but instead hides. It doesn't want to be found out. The room I get dressed in is the front bedroom of the York house, though this has become the main bedroom now even though, in reality, none of the furniture would fit. I spend a long time staring at the socks in the sock drawer, convinced the fire may be concealed in one. Zoe attempts to reassure me that the fire has probably tired of our home and has moved on elsewhere, where people are less intent on discovering it. Outside the sky is pleasingly blue,

Old one, which from the date happened during that thankfully hazy year where I worked nights in one of those modern day supermarkets. Summertime, I would sleep throughout the day in blistering heat, some sort of sheet over my head to block out the light, and a fan on its highest setting blowing semi cold air over me. Prior to this I thought sleeping in the relatively pleasant upper teen Celsius was oppressive. Dreams from this period seem largely confusing. 'In the tower of a castle, and also in a field on the edge of the city. I have a george cross on a shield I'm holding, and, inexplicably, a nazi sword. I am clearly prepared to defeat someone. Steve coogan tries to drive me to a battle but his car is caught in a flash flood. Water swirls about me, and I wade through to save him, despite the obvious danger to myself. The battle doesn't seem to take place. Later, I am wandering around a University department, though not one of the Universities I have ever been to or visite

'After taking a coastal path, I am obviously floating in a disembodied way, not the regular moving by vehicle or flying. Passing along strangely narrow A roads, like a coach, but again not, as previously mentioned. The side alleys and passages are Tudor in appearance, twisting out of view to an unknown end. It looks like a nice place to stop in and do some shopping. I make a mental note to tell my parents, as they enjoy this sort of old world place. My mental note is however readable as handwriting. I have written the word 'Winchester'.' 'In my house, after being out at sea holding someone's tits and saving a child from drowning. I have murdered a person, by stabbing them through the back of the neck. A countdown begins, presumably until the authorities arrive. I assess the possible options. None of them result in anything less than me being arrested for murder. The blood is crimson and the consistency of treacle.'

This comes from a collection of various night-thought that I made whilst at University (the first time), and as such I have no knowledge or memory of it, owing to its place in the past (alongside someone called Kate who liked Gordon Brown and thought we should all give him a chance, a pub called The Black Horse, and the consumption of a meal in several stages [which is not the same as eating several courses]). It must have happened because here it is, we can all see it. 'On a trip to Africa [non specific]. Running around the grassland/savannah trying to find our lodge. I'm quite fast; I don't understand why everyone is following the same path. The countryside looks amazing, but in retrospect not that different to here. Every now and again someone distant laughs at me, but I pay no attention [though apparently enough to note it down]. I remember, on reaching the lodge, that I'd given my bag to a black guy to take for me. Where is it? Zoe shows me where it is, basically w

New Year begins with last nights nocturnal wandering, I believe inspired by the opening of the Burj... 'A large glass office building in the city , empty owing to a potential attack by a separatist movement/elves. No-one explains which though. I have a gun, and am prepared to defend myself. I hide in the toilet, pointing the gun at the door. If anyone comes in, I will shoot them. A steady stream of people enter, I shoot none of them. 'If we're all in the same room, this will be a massacre', I say, and exit tentatively. The office is quiet, and I make my way slowly to the top floor. My partner is up there, gun holstered. There is a meeting going on in a open plan room, with a cafe in the background. I wait for the meeting to finish, and keep my gun out. As the meeting concludes, a woman comments that all the lifts in the building are coming up to the top floor simultaneously. I take this to be the terrorists/fairies opening salvo. An arrow flies past me from an unknown a