Sunday morning. Dreams. Orange towel. I’m going somewhere, Minsk, for a shoot, and I am being given presents to help me on my journey. A girl who was in my form at school, who I wasn’t friends with really, at all, but who was a civil human being from what I remember, is apparently a good friend of mine in this dream. The only female manager at the firm I used to work out gives me the towel as a gift and attributes half of the credit to the girl I barely remember from school, who appears from the escalator and we hug and I say thanks and she explains that Billy’s present will be sent via post. In a shopping centre. It looks like a shopping centre we did this fire drill thing in one time, in Essex somewhere, there is a shop called “Chitty’s” which is one of those budget clothing stores where everything is under £15 but actually the stuff is okay. Schoolkids around. One teenage boy nods and says hi as thought we know each other – in the dream, I seemed to know who he was (in real life I’m actually scared of teenage boys ha). A bar I used to go to with the team I worked with at my former company – my ex – manager. A group of ex – colleagues are outside this bar, only a few people are allowed in. One female colleague who used to annoy the hell out of me because she seemed to lack any skill other than an incredible ability to know who to flash her flesh at was in this dream, wearing jeans, and she indicates that she is in the bar because of her jeans. I walk in and am surprised at how completely different this bar looks. On 2 levels, downstairs to a seating area which looks like a restaurant, all light wood, stripped wooden floors, bright. Entry level floor feels like an old hotel, darkened carpet, loos are visible against the back wall. I am chatting to my ex – manager, he asks how I’m doing, I say fine. Then we discuss how ridiculously different the bar looks – he explains that they built some kind of living space at the back of the bar so that someone could live there because apparently she had nowhere to go. I nod, actually, in the dream, I think I went into the apartment but have no further memory of it, and I realise in the dream that the person they have built the apartment for is a girl who I met through a friend of mine who lives in her building. Anything else. Not really. Any other details.. I’m drawing a blank. Woke up to some feature on gender identity in India at 3am. Very interesting. At 6am they were discussing wolves, fascinating! I’m really hungry. Terminator Salvation was on last night – I think it’s a really good movie. Decided to switch it off after a bit as psychologically I kept thinking it was a waste watching it on TV because it deserves the Blu Ray treatment. Trippy story. Terrifying, the concept of a war against machines of our creation. Perhaps my underlying concerns about the development of highly sophisticated AI is somehow rooted in the fact that I saw those films when I was quite young. I find it so scary, the whole concept of humans creating intelligence when we don’t have any real understanding of why we do the crazy things we do sometimes. Not sure we’re quite at a place where we can hope to play God yet, but who knows what that even means and I’m babbling about something that isn’t even an issue. Questioning my behaviour. Was I off? I don’t think so, but was I acting on some subconscious impulse that wasn’t in my control? How do I look? Awful, no doubt. Am I cut out for this? I don’t know that I am. There is a drive. There is. Sometimes it chides me and I just want to curl up and forget about everything but everyone feels that way sometimes, right? Endless. Endless. This morning, I’m quite awake but feeling very lazy. I suppose I can just go with it, it’s Sunday, no big deal. Alia keeps pace with the storm. Lots of ideas – mustn’t let details of execution get in the way of just DOING stuff. It’s an exciting prospect. Today’s plan is to do lots of stuff, start a new play, finished Twelfth Night, read Ovid, study, exercise, write. Plenty to do which is all very exciting. Tales of regression are scary. Terrifying. How can that happen? Why self – sabotage blazing a trail of frustration so close to hatred in your wake? Therapy is a wonderful thing, if you can swallow your pride and accept that you are not perfect and perhaps some kind of help that is rooted in ideas about process rather than purely relying on your own faculties to motivate and implement. Sometimes I think we put ourselves under so much pressure – to expect to motivate yourself, and then find the energy to implement everything you need to whilst LEARNING the approach you’ve chosen to base your implementation on is a pretty intense ask – very rewarding if you can do it though, I suppose. To err is to be human, it’s okay to make mistakes along the way, just pick yourself up and don’t let that stop you from focusing on your ultimate goals. Defeatism. An awful attitude. Very real, very human, very easy to adopt, almost feels natural sometimes, but it’s rubbish basically and is some bizarre kind of suicide of the spirit. Mental breakdown. Scary. I don’t know. I’m confused this morning! Didn’t feel that way initially but I do now. Is that just because my brain has started whirring or is it just because I’m generally a bit confused and that’s just the way it’s going to be today which is fine? How much control do I actually have over my own state of mind? How much do I really want? Am I so lazy that I don’t want to expend the energy controlling my state of mind, preferring to just let it be what it is no matter what because that’s the “truth” of where I am? Nah. That’d be bad, imagine if everyone adopted that attitude. It would all go horribly wrong. I need some breakfast I think, then onwards with the day! Breakfast in bed! Love breakfast. Definitely my favourite meal of the day.