Minor victory / Dreams

Ha! I finally managed to remove the 'comments' facility. I can now pretend that you all exist with delightfully inverted solipsism.

I continue to dream of published poesy, a second undergraduate degree, this time from the London School of Economics and a world where my work (and my person) is both loved and respected, instead of mercilessly lampooned and insulted...

Last night, in my old bed in my parents' little bungalow, I actually dreamt of a large, old building (divided into flats), I wanted to be rid of a bag of rubbish and also smoke a cigar so I went out onto the balcony. It turned out I couldn't escape this place; perhaps I did, across the mountains then to beaches, seafronts, inexplicable woods and forests, long roads surrounded by formidable hills; the landscape of my dreams...

Were there many dreams in a single night or was my memory of one a trigger for an interconnected cycle of others? Some repeated, perhaps? I'm sure the slightly menacing, hilly coastal town and the corner shop have appeared before, for example, as have the estates (or are they the estates of this town?). The mountains seem further away, perhaps these were my Irish dreams; still somewhere near the surface of my mind, as the heart longs to return there.

For my part, this free association of images has been both eerie and enlightening but, upon proofing, to the general reader, I imagine, rather mundane. Apart from the aforementioned mountains, I seem to picture things no more exotic than fifty miles away. Sometimes I dream rather more darkly but that is all rather terrfying and can be omitted for the moment. The above outlined English-'Under Milk Wood' style nights are eminently more preferable...