Dreams, fragments that I remember. Me and Billy at my Dad’s house waiting for Billy’s mum to arrive for lunch. She arrives with dog and explains that she has brought him down to drop off at Billy’s Dad’s house. It’s snowy and grey. The dog is off his lead and walking around freely but behaving well. There is another dog who has been brought along as a diversion. We all agree to get into the car and go but when we get into the car, must be missing a bit, we are getting into my aunt’s car which her family sold at least 10 years ago and I am upset because while all the stuff with the dog is happening I am standing behind Billy completely unacknowledged. My youngest cousin feels sorry for me and keeps asking me how I am and gives me a book on something relevant, can’t remember what, but it was kind and something to do with the fact that I was feeling upset.
Another fragmented memory of a dream. Shooting a film or maybe some kind of acting course based at a nice house in the country somewhere. Joan Collins, bizarre, is part of the production or course. Generally being difficult and unreasonably difficult to deal with. I am not having to deal with her really, I can’t remember who the authority figure was trying to deal with her. Oh God I need to sort out my tenses as I write this. Teacher J was in the front room of my Dad’s house being a bit insane? He and mad J joking around and having a good laugh, very playful, affectionate, like old friends. In my Dad’s living room?!! Bizarre! Something about a full day improvisation course for both groups taking place in the “Marlon” suite or something. Is there any other recollection? Not sure. The garden. Dark. Heated garden. Whatsapp messenger. A close friend and her boyfriend. My friends’ cousin annoyed with her for being friends with someone called Adam even though Adam was in bed with a load of weirdos. My friend hears on the radio that Adam has been diagnosed with cancer, I can’t believe it and am upset but my friend doesn’t seem surprised and is angry with her cousin for not being there when he is needed most. Everyone does crazy stupid things when they are younger. It’s what being young is for, really. Slabs and a nice garden table. Dark brown and wooden. Heater. I want to go outside. Not sure why I don’t, nothing stopping me. Can I remember anything else? No don’t think I can. Not sure of what this is really but I’m pleased I’m remembering fragments at least. My mind is trying to fill in the gaps of what I am recalling, what people were wearing etc but I don’t think I can remember any more of the raw detail. Perhaps it will come back to me later as I write. Opera on the radio. That tap running in the bathroom, water going down the plughole but my pen wants to keep writing. Feeling excited by idea of tea. Not cold this morning, yay! What to do today. Lunch. Nervous about lunch. Am I disliked? Probably not. My gut is coming ‘round to the possibility that maybe that is my paranoia talking. Starving hungry! Do I have energy to do stuff today? Of course!! Saturday morning tv? Why not. Legs feel nice and soft. Good feeling! Relax. Relax. Relax.