This is part of my blog, which I have long since stopped maintaining. The page has been preserved in case its content is of any interest. Please go back to the homepage to see the current contents of this site.
Didn’t wake up until midday today, in the cause of getting some more dreaming done.
I can’t remember exactly where the first dream started, but I remember it from the point where I and a few other adults were looking after a bunch of kids in the playground. I started to have a go on the slides and things myself. Then I got to a bit where there were hoops hanging from ropes from a bar overhead, and you had to cross from one platform to another while holding on to the hoops. Kind of like that game on Gladiators, only without a disturbingly lycra-clad opponent. Anyway, it was really difficult - I’m not sure if the kids could manage it, since the hoops were so far apart. I did okay, though, except for at one point the rope holding the hoop I was on stretched, and I ended up standing on the ground, holding the hoop in my hand and looking silly.
I went back to minding the kids for a while until a TV filming crew turned up, at which point I went inside. Inside the thatched-roof cottage next to the playground, there was a lecture about magic going on in a huge lecture theatre, which was boring so I left. I opened the door to the outside again, and nearly tripped over a guy spreading salt in front of the door. After letting him past, I decided that I didn’t want to step in the salt so I jumped over it.
There were two little hills ahead of me, one with the playground on it and the other empty. I walked up to the top of the empty one and looked around, and saw that the guy spreading salt had drawn a big infinity-symbol-like-thing around the two hills which felt really icky, and I knelt down and put my hands down… And, in a horribly disconcerting way, my hands and arms and body were pulled through the ground and everything blurred and I woke up.
If I recall correctly, the last part of the dream - from walking out of the cottage door to being sucked through the ground - repeated again, exactly the same as before.
My second dream is a slight variation on one I’ve seen before. As before, we all got a train to Bristol University, which looked almost exactly like Southampton Uni except that the train station was where Southampton’s main Union building is. And, like before, I found myself without any clothes - although some boxers appeared at some point.
We decided to go to the Union shop - which for some reason was up on the equivalent of where Burgess Road would have been at Southampton - and get me some clothes. On the way we noticed two Maelstrom characters, Twig and Wildwood, but we didn’t say hello.
Then, on the way up the side of the University-Road-equivalent we met Pete, who seemed to be some kind of security person at the Uni. We explained the problem to him, and… I woke up.
Dear me, I’ve been productive today. I got not just one but TWO things done! Oh yes! I have both shaved, and had a haircut! Yay, go me! Stay tuned for the science bit:
+2 pts My mother will no longer nag me to shave and cut my hair!
+2 pts I now look “more like a graduate”.
-1 pts …but that’s only according to my mother.
-2 pts I no longer look like a beardy Frodo.
+1 pts …but I still eat like a hobbit and flirt with male friends, so that’s okay.
+2 pts Now with extra shota potential!
-1 pts …but I’ll now get asked for ID in pubs.
-1 pts …but I’m not sure shota potential is a good thing anyway.
+2 pts Eric won’t complain anymore.
-1 pt I no longer look like Tsuki.
TOTAL: +3 pts! Banzai.
Just had one of the most disturbing of my recurring dreams again. Unfortunately I don’t feel comfortable saying what happened in it, because it’s about certain people I know, and it’s about a horrible future that I never want to happen.
Not, of course, that it’s likely to happen - it starts off with me being at University the year before I actually arrived, and one of my friends having a long-term illness that AFAIK she doesn’t have, so it doesn’t start plausibly. However, as with all stories, I think that just by being known by people they develop a little truth. So I’m keeping this one to myself. Painful as it is, the less people that know about it the better.
This angsty doom-post was brought to you by the weird middle bits of my brain, and the numbers 5 and 23.
No more World Cup for us!
No more mass hysteria, no more England flags on every house, and no more pubs packed with football fans.
So, here I am back in Bournemouth after all this time. No more living in Southampton for me, perhaps forever…
So, what’s going on? Answer: Lots, but not in any places I can get to.
Since most of my Bournemouth friends are going to Spain today and all my Southampton friends are spread out around the country, there’s nothing close by for me to do. Plenty going on in other places, of course, but I’m now so far over my overdraft limit that cash machines won’t let me take money out anymore.
So, I’m stuck here. Even my parents’ new-found ADSL isn’t helping much - they switch it off every night to stop the router getting too hot, and will only let me connect with some crummy USB WiFi adapter that I can’t make connect in Linux for love nor money. Grr. I also don’t have the router password, and the ISP “limits” P2P traffic - but doesn’t give any actual details =S
So, there was this Pagan convention thing in the middle of the lake district, then there was this treasure hunt thing where we had to run around collecting something-or-other except that I lost because I spent too much time eating cake, then prizes were given out to people and the prize-giving lady talked about faerie magic for a bit.
Then there was a guy who was staying in a house that was snow-bound so he couldn’t get back to it, so we invited him to stay in our chalet. We ran around trying to sort out who was sleeping where in the chalet which was laid out exactly like my parents’ house. Eric and I were there, as were Mark and Donna and this other guy who I think was called Chris and looked a lot like the guy called Chris that I did Kung Fu with years ago.
In the morning Chris couldn’t get the toaster to work because he hadn’t switched it to the other power supply, so I fixed it and then…
…Eric called in real life, and woke me up.
More and more, recently, I’ve been seeing dawn from the other side. 4am no longer seems a late time to go to bed; in fact it’s long since passed four and I’m not even tired.
Just the same as last year, it’s the sign that it’s summer at last, and for everyone there’s a feeling of relaxation in the air. Everyone seems to care about the toils of life just a tiny bit less at this time of year, and I feel the hard-work gloom lift from over the city.
The beat of my Heartsong quickens, its melody becomes more lively. Unto the summer we go.
There’s something oddly wonderful about tearing the flesh from the bones of Aeris and Tidus with a blunt knife to the background music of Manowar, before tossing the bits in boiling oil and then stewing them for two hours.
I should probably explain, Aeris and Tidus are rabbits.
There are pics, including one of Mark looking
veryEDIT: “moderately” gay with them, but to save myself from being lynched by every vegetarian on my friends list I’ll avoid posting them =p
Right, this afternoon has been a good one for getting some RPoL-related work done!
Sorry it took me so long. Now, let’s get posting, people! These games are very much Not Dead!