Personal Blogs

Just had the dream of my life. 

The characters are Adam, my Dad, Lee and David Ramsey. 

I come to, I am in my bedroom and I somehow have the option to gain video access to Adam's bedroom. But do I use that access? The access is there but I never get round to using it. 

In any case, Adam is coming over. He comes over. But somehow I have wind of the fact that Adam is not so much "for" me, but against me, in many ways. 

He has been working on Balance Inc, his work that involves writing songs, writing films and writing a book. 

And yet Adam is against me, pretending to be my friend. But somehow I have wind of that, and it eventually transpires that I can see he is using me, and I am the subject of a prank film he is making. 

"What shall I say to him," says Adam to a female accomplice, a neighbour of mine who tells him his motivation. I forget the motivating line. 

I get Dad involved. Dad is clearly on my side. He gives me support and advice, and backs me all the way. The three of us are in the garage when Dad and I confront Adam. "Adam, this is all fake!" we say. 

Adam draws a gun. 

"Fine," I say. "Shoot me!" 

Adam shoots me in the heart, but I am still alive and I rough-talk Adam to the point that he shoots himself in the head, through guilt. 

But Adam is still alive. 

A great battle ensues. Adam is strong, and in real life stronger than me and would wallop me. But in this dream I match him, and we fight, I guess, and then... all of a sudden... when the fight is over... 

We sit down. 

We watch the television. 

Lee has finally made a film. It's a stop motion plasticine and Lego movie. It's brilliant, so far. I mean it's incredible. 

And in fact, the film is about the altercation that just now took place. 

We see myself represented. I am sitting at a desk, ready to masturbate, but I pause and wait, and don't masturbate, and the scene is a deep and in depth representation of my life. 

The we see a similar shot of Adam, and he masturbates, and has a great, straight time, and our bodies are plasticine, and the film is astounding! 

But the contrast is about a rivalry between us, me and Adam, and the rivalry is exemplified by Lee's film, and there are all types of details, common to dreams, that are awesome but you cannot for the life of you remember what they are. 

But the positive side of this movie that Lee is creating is that Adam and I are, in the end, besties - best friends - and it turns out that - in the film - from the film's success, Adam's and my band have been signed. The feeling is immense! Finally! 

And Lee has animated to a recent live show of mine, and he gets everything right, and it's awesome. 

The scenery is plasticine and Lego stop-motion animation, and buildings shift and change and are beautiful. 

Meanwhile, David is here, and Adam has a girlfriend, but I have forgotten David's name. I finally work it out, and also, I need to get jacked for the film, and I do get jacked. 

And I remember David's name, finally, and I hug him, and he is hot for me, and we become an item. 

But I woke up. 

And my whole was fake. 

And you were fake. 

And the Israel-Gaza war was fake. 

And I had to kill myself. 

So I came online, and I bought a Nintendo online pass. And I played a little Nintendo. 

And now I'm writing here. 

And now I've got to get on with my life. 

Therein lies the tale. 

Daniel 

It has recently occurred to me, that most people are not in any appreciable amount of pain at any one time. 

Most people, it seems, are able to go about their daily lives all the while feeling fine, feeling good, confident, attractive, and mentally well. 

I thank these people for their fine contributions to society, and our socialist system of benefits, for keeping me alive. 

Actually, I know I need to die, to take away the burden of me. But that is a future endeavour. 

For now, I will concentrate on finishing my degree, on making music and art, and looking after my cats and friends, Tommy and Charlie, and friends Charlie, Roberto, Massimo, Lee, Eugene, Sara, Aaron, and Tamsin, and any others I have failed to mention, and my family, Ryan, Corina, Julie, Fred, Rio, Rocco, Sia, Fiona and Dayne, Phoenix and Montel, and cousins and all the rest. 

I don't really know what else to say this morning. 

I just want to relate last night's dream. 

The main part began, and it was a movie starring Adam Sandler and Heather Graham. 

Adam Sandler had been a worker for some company, such as a boxing company in a warehouse, and he worked alongside some other group of characters, typical as you'd find in the type of warehouses you see in movies. 

And Adam Sandler had managed to impress and consequently pull Heather Graham, the latter whom had been in a meet position in which she hadn't been before, and the same for Adam, the latter whom had been in a position the circumstance which he was not really meant to be, and yet magically or circumstantially found himself, and pulled Heather. 

But despite the magic that was put on Adam, that during the date he was not able to utter the words "today" at any point, it turned out that Adam's circumstantial pairing with Heather had been somewhat unfair on another character, a worker in the warehouse, who was really supposed to be in the place in which Adam was, when Adam pulled Heather - thus, the worker should have pulled Heather. This worker was a lumbering goon type man, perhaps like the neighbour from Seinfeld, whatever he is called. And all the other workers knew of this unfair situation, and were gunning for the goon's fair treatment. 

Nevertheless, a strange thing happened. There being yet another worker, perhaps a son of the boss or other, this worker got jealous of Adam, and intervened in a peculiar way, that is, he left Heather some presents, that were intended to seem as though they'd come from Adam, and were basically cheap gifts such as a sausage roll and sandwiches, wrapped in cheap tissue. Whether Heather was impressed or not by the receipt of these gifts is another thing - in fact she wasn't, yet she gave Adam the benefit of the doubt. This part of the dream came to nothing. 

The warehouse turned out to be a candy factory, and the dream was themed around making and eating these sweets. And at one point Adam had to save a worker from falling into a sewer. 

Consequently, the dream was uneventful. 

But there it is, and there you have it! 

Peace

Daniel

x

Kiki and the seven items of Mill Hill. 

There is a group of friends in Mill Hill whom each have go through a test in time to earn their own personal item - an avatar - that gives them special powers. 

Paul is playing silly buggers with his friends in Mill Hill park. He is hiding his rather large penis in the foliage nearby where several girls have been sitting, and telling them there is a surprise in the undergrowth. When they find the surprise, it is Paul's penis, and it is most amusing. 

But Paul has a guitar, a twelve-string acoustic, which, when the police are summoned to arrest him, Paul has hidden in time. 

The park is huge, like a reserve, and has many trees and valleys, and Paul goes missing one day. 

Daniel also has a guitar, and he was supposed to play it to the group one special night. But Daniel has gone in search of Paul. 

Daniel finds Paul, in the midst of an ancient age, and Paul has special powers, and reveals to Daniel that he had to go through a series of trials before he could master his guitar and achieve these special powers. 

Dean is also there, and he has to master his nunchuks, which were hidden in the forest of Mill Hill during the Chinese age. 

In any case, Paul has returned to Mill Hill park in the present time, and he is training Daniel so that he may master his item, an acoustic six string guitar, when the time comes. But Paul and Daniel have to overcome their own difficulties before they are able to progress to master level. For instance, when Paul was playing silly buggers with his willy, Paul claims that the police only intervened because Daniel hit him on the willy a little bit, which in addition, caused Paul to cum a little bit! This has been on Paul's mind for all eternity, and Daniel says, "Sorry Paul, it was just a little smack!" The issue is resolved, a little. 

But there is a crack of thunder, and an item comes flying out of the sky, It is a taikwondo stick - it is spinning through the air. Sarah, a friend of the group, is able, with deft skill and amazing talent, to catch the stick in the midst of a martial arts spinning jump, and she catches it right in the middle of the pole. The skies light up with her reward: GORGEOUS!! says the huge message across the sky, and fireworks and stars go off, and this is Sarah's avatar, her item, and a hole opens up in the ground. The hole reveals a burning pool of lava, and the ground burns away gradually, as the hole gets larger, and friends are sitting about the pool of lava, whilst the legacy of how to beat the lava ball at the centre is revealed, by a ghostly voice. The hole is increasing in size, and everybody manages to escape the lava ball in the centre, which burns the ground all around. 

Daniel, in particular, escapes, and jumps on a crocodile, his companion in the quest to find his own item, an acoustic six-string guitar, and the crocodile/alligator speeds off towards the forest of Mill Hill, and sees, in the daze of travelling a great momentum, the return of the same alligator come back from the forest, in the future. 

Beyond the forest is a vast plain, whereupon all manner of safari animals are grazing, and they are unfortunately in danger. Daniel has to climb a tree, reminiscent of a tree that once existed in the Mill Hill park days, and to avoid the danger, has to reach the very top, which is constituted of very thin branches, and he ascends. 

Will Daniel reach the top of the tree? 

To be continued...

The night that was last night, and its consequent situation about sleep, consisted of a very mentally dry experience in which it seemed I had been asleep for all eternity. That is, it felt like I was dead, and had ended up resting for the rest of time. 

Then I woke up; it was five thirty in the morning, and I did a few things, had a mince about on the internet, at a cheese sandwich (this was American cheese on 50/50 Kingsmill bread), you know, the usual things. Then at eight thirty am I went back to lie on my bed to read a book (that book? Block 2 of MST326, of course), and I drifted into sleep and consequent dreaming, and the following dream. 

There I was, in my little room, with my sister there, and a painting on the wall. There was a painting on the wall, of which I was particularly proud that I had painted, and then Lee shows up. And my sister is the sister of my childhood, writhing and squishing about in a pre-adolescent condition, and Lee has taken pains to be the judge of my painting, which, now I think of it, was of a man in three colours, brown, green and blue or yellow. And it is a tall painting and takes up the space on the wall of the room. I don't react too kindly when Lee's judgement culminates in his slight and careless retouching of the face of the man in the painting, with his own brush, and I find myself becoming very, very upset by this. I admonish Lee. Meanwhile, my sister, squirming in the glory of her childlike youth, takes a goddess-like phantasmagorical presence, and the dream progresses. 

Lee's retouching of my work, culminating in a mere brushstroke of black paint over the man's face, has caused me such pain, such sorrow, that somehow my painting has improved some-fold. Before I admonish Lee, I can see a version of some of his own work, and the colours are a psychedelic display of vibrant beauty, although the shape of the image is merely a psychedelic pattern, and I'm stunned. I ask Lee, "How did you get those colours?" And he explains, 

"I just mixed these three colours together," and the colours were green, blue and yellow. It is good. He achieves a neon sparkle with hints at a techno festival light display theme. 

Soon we see that the room has opened magnificently into a part of a large two storey house, and one that sits detached from other houses, like an American house from a horror television show. It is not strange that this house, belonging to me myself, contains rooms in which the interior decoration takes the form of pictures and paintings that I have painted - that is, on the walls - and they are all my work. The dream is very much one of those "painting-as-you-go" dreams, but that is not the theme. 

People are arriving for a party, and many faces bring me to this state of feeling very popular. They are the faces of my youth; some are people I haven't seen for years, some are people I have as friends on Facebook, some are Eugene and Lee and Ashley. 

They come to me, these people of my past, and they wonder what is wrong with me. They don't know that I am butthurt about Lee's judgement of my art, and his consequent desecration of said art, but I am - very butthurt, and I spend most of the party in tears, and weeping, and crying. They are all very concerned. 

Meanwhile, the walls of my house are covered in my own art, and Lee also paints several pieces, and I never quite grasp how he gets his brilliant colours. There are messages all over the walls - Lee has left many messages in his art, and this helps me to communicate with my party guests... however, I refrain from employing the use of his every message, being that I feel as if it is disingenuous to do so. I am trying everything in my power to make this a fun party. But I am so butthurt. 

Martin is there, and so is Scott. These are teenage friends. They don't know why I am so upset, crying all the time, weeping, and getting angry. 

Then, suddenly, I figure it out. 

I'm upset because I met God, and went walking with God, and then God forsook me. 

"I met God!" I say to the people, including Tariz and Sharon, and it cheers me up some since I now know why I was so upset. "I miss God," I tell them. 

"Oh, he misses God!" they say. 

Something in the dream is alleviated. The messages in Lee's art are pertinent, and prominent. There is graffiti all over. The art is painting itself. 

We move from the second storey to the balcony, which overlooks the main hall. And then we are in said main hall, and it is dark outside, and the dream slowly comes to an end. The party is over. 

***

Usually, by having these dreams about colours and painting, I wake up wanting to paint. This time, however, I woke up feeling that I was a failed messiah. 

And it's true - in the end, I do miss God. The sentiment served to set me up for confidence in the following day. 

There we have it. 

Daniel

x

Last night I dreamed a strange dream...

I was in the shower and I... there was an obligation... an obligation that I procreate with my brother's wife, in order to reproduce a child, that was a "brother/cousin" to my brother's child, Sia, whom we would call Mia. 

Before that, however, I was reading a book to my sister. The book was like the bible, yet it was a Charles Dickens book, and we accessed parts of it via Alexa, the electrical assistant. I drew in that book, and improved a drawing by fine lines on a the previous picture. It was a very touching moment. 

So, Fiona and I were to reproduce, and whether we did or not is undisclosed, but certainly, there was Kate Burton, with whom I ended up actually having a child with... in the shower. We had a beautiful child, and were married, and on the wedding day, our family had to help my brother, Ryan, to come of age, and all we had to do in this endeavour was, at the penultimate moment, to bring him aware of his own scent, and then Ryan had come of age. 

And then I had my child, and we had a happy life, me and Kate. And things went from strength to strength. The boy grew up, and there were ups and there were downs - with Mia's head coming off at one stage. 

But Mia was to be a success, it being that we were a successful family. We took him, at the right age, into a music studio to make music. And Mia was successful. Yet, he was so lazy - so terribly and unfortunately lazy - that he could never impress his father. It was with stupidity and carelessness that Mia came into all sorts of money, for the most part guaranteed by his father. 

Mia had so much money, by dint of his father's success, that he had accumulated all manner of collections, including a sports card collection so vast that he'd even collected numerous rare combinations of these without even knowing it. 

It was then with regret and humility that father had to break the news to Mia... Mia, he began. You've won the lottery! 

For in his past, Mia was heir to the McFlys, a family who'd travelled in time and accumulated my wealth. 

There were many coincidences in these scenes, many coincidences indeed. But after all these coincidences, there was finally that one solitary coincidence, that one stupid and hapless coincidence, that saved us all. 

In the mire of coincidences, within which nothing could be done to save the laziness and carelessness of Mia McFly, finally there was an electrical rod that was able to pair with another electrical rod of somewhat slightly longer length. 

And the McFlys were saved. 

The end. 

There are ghosts. 

*Disclaimer*: I'm a paranoid schizophrenic.

You expect ghosts to appear as white sheets, floating at the end of the bed. But they're everywhere - in objects, in another dimension, in your heart. 

People keep dying. My auntie died last week. That night, in the throes of midnight mourning, I said goodbye. I wasn't amazingly close to auntie Ann, but I had a better relationship with her spouse, my uncle Mick, who died a few years ago. My heart goes out to my cousins, Gareth, Kirsten and Cathryn. 

What do I do to deserve these dreams? What it must've been, was that I must've spent the day taking notes from the wrong mathematics book. I'm so tired. But I need to give myself a few minutes to readjust. I've just had a terrible nightmare. Let me explain. Let the breath of God fall lightly across my lips. 

I wake up, in dream, and I'm dreaming, and there are several scenarios. The first is that I'm in my flat, and I'm playing my Epiphone SG, and I'm writing a new song, and it's got the flavour of a Led Zeppelin ballad. (In fact, I feel like I should be writing that song now, but I had to come here). And my flat is my flat. I notice someone has thrown something through my kitchen window; that is, there is a ball-bearing shaped hole in the pane - the pane seems quite thick, and I can trace the trajectory of the ball-bearing, and at once I do so, and it appears to have come from the nearby mental hospital, across the town. But the hole ceases up, and the hole appears to now have been made from this side of the window. And it is capped with a piece of solder. I know. Very boring. I know. 

Yet there I am, in this dark dream on this dark night, and I have a huge house that is haunted. And in dream I am working on this song - I have the chords in my head right now, and I wonder if they really work in real life. But there I am in dream, writing this song, this ballad, like Led Zeppelin. 

And halfway through the night, from the moment when I was going to sleep, to the moment I woke up, I was subjected, subdued, subordinated to the crying of my cats, and they kept waking me up, and I was in Catland, where cats themselves have a real life, a real existence, a real internal experience, and theirs is a huge reality, and I myself was drawn into it, and saw, when I woke up several times, that there was a cat in my room other than my own cats, and it was a human-sized cat, like a pirate size, and most frightening. But there you have it. 

There you are, and there I was, in dream, playing guitar and writing a song on my Epiphone SG, and old Rob shows up, and there he is, sitting there, Roberto, enjoying the guitar, and my flat is huge and there are steps leading everywhere, like Labyrinth. I want him to get a picture of me hanging on the balcony, and I ask him to take it - because, before, I was hanging on the bannisters, and I had thought, "This would make a good picture!" So I asked him to take it, and I've searched all around the house, for the correct bannister to hang off, and Rob has gone off, looking for it, and he's walking all around the house, and he's then divided into two... and there are now two Robs walking around the house, up and down stairs, and now there's a third... walking up and down the Labyrinth that is my flat, and in any case, I found where I wanted him to take my picture, and I waited, to see if the Three Robs would come together and meet over the other side of the hallway, yet when they came together, they turned into other people, and there was now Rob, and Judy (my dead ex), and another woman - a young girl. 

The picture was taken, and now I'm feeling tired. Have you ever felt tired in your sleep? That's dangerous. You might die! But there's a knock at the door, and in comes Eugene, my old best mate, and I'm very thankful, and he's here to skin up and watch the football, and I'm very thankful that he's here, and now Eugene, Rob and Judy are here. 

But they're not here for long. The next thing you know, I've gone back to bed, and I'm trying to fall asleep in dream, and that's dangerous - you could end up in hell. But now I'm alone, and it's me, and my guitar, my Epiphone SG, is with me the whole time, and I'm constantly trying to write this song. But there's a weird feeling; an ominous feeling, so I look out the window. And I don't want to be seen looking out the window, because people always look up at me. Yet I look out the window - I peer out the panes - and it is a dark and late night, and there is a man walking down below, among the Autumn trees, and under the dim lights of the streetlamp, and he's walking away to the right, down the road, and he turns back, and takes a look at me - a deliberate look at me, and it is most perturbing, and I'm nonplussed and scared. The man has disappeared (because he walked away). But then I approach the window a second time, still playing this Epiphone SG and writing my song, and I look leftwards down the road, from my high place up here in the window, and there is a woman. "Don't look up! Don't look up!" I think, but as she's walking, she looks up. She stares for a minute. I skulk back inside the room. Don't strange things happen in dreams? Whenever two things happen similarly in a dream, that's something of which to be wary, because that doesn't happen in dreams; that only happens in real life. 

Then, there is a woman in my room. I'm playing guitar... well, I'm trying to play... and she is a ghost, and she grabs me and takes me. She hugs me and embraces me. She is a black woman. She kisses me and grabs my balls, and I think, "She's going to rip my balls off!" but it feels good. And I'm still trying to play guitar. The woman disappears. 

I walk into the hallway, and there are people there. At a glance, I have seen Jimmy Saville, but I walk past thinking nothing of it. But then, as I go into my bathroom, he is there again in a different guise, and he says, "Why didn't you beat me up?!" So I think, 'Yeah, I should have!' and I push him back, down the hall, and now to the left, in another bedroom, there is another Jimmy Saville, lying on the bed, and a third, and they all look different. It is fucking petrifying. 

I try to wake up, and I'm so tired, but I shock myself out of it, and wake up, and there's Chris Cornell standing at the foot of my bed, in pirate gear, looking kind of short, kind of 'Pirates of the Caribbean', and it is fucking petrifying. I get out of bed and I come here. 

That's it, that's the experience. But it leaves me wanting to have a black girlfriend, and to write this song on my Epiphone SG. 

Daniel

Hello... wonderful!

The universe, that is, the night sky, that is, the world outside of human experience, when you finally realise your alien capacities, is in fact a large celestial body. That is, space as seen from Earth in the night-time (or daytime for that matter) is in fact an enormous moon that encapsulates the entirety of our vision. The light that dances as like unto stars, and the dolphin-like actions of the early morning Sun (when you actually look at it), they are craters in this moon. And our own Earth is a mere meagre piece of dust, that is set afloat in the DNA of greater beings, who would treat us like germs if they were made aware of our presence. 

That is what you learn when you can realise your extra-terrestrial status. ...Which is what I did! First, Eugene had made an appearance at my flat which was my current flat yet it was a somewhat nicer flat that I have. And Eugene and I had pizza, and played computer games, and drank Coca-cola, and then he left. Then, upon sleeping, I was able to transcend somehow my Earthly body, and I sent my anti-particulate body over to meet Nicolaus who, along with Roberto and in some respects Adam, were waiting patiently in his apartment for the arrival of my being - my anti-matter being! 

So I entered the abode, and stood inside the living room, and Nick and Rob were fully prepared for my arrival, and I sent out a signal, which was nothing more than an internal high pitched screaming, that permeated the entirety of the cosmos, and which Nick and Rob could understand. Yet there was Adam, behind the drums, perhaps not full prepared for the effect, and somewhat going through the motions, and full of lack of belief, yet somewhat to be worked upon, and the scream alerted the alien community. And the stars did shine, and I went and made a drink in the kitchen and read a book. 

Then, with a rushing wave, did the others arrive. They were in the capacity of Paul, Kerry, Adam Dagnall, and really just in that capacity, yet perhaps with a teeny tiny Emma Corr. And this company had heard, in the real world, or some strange goings on. They attributed said activity to the existence of aliens: Paul was the main Ghostbuster, come to bust the ghost of my alien anti-presence, and Kerry was there to back him up, but Adam Dagnall was the man who, in the midst of this gathering, had to ascertain the reality of my anti-presence... although none were aware that the activity was my own doing. The party began, and I was soon to become trapped and consequently sniffed out and snuffed out. Yet on a mission to collect something - perhaps some kind of alien detecting equipment - Adam Dagnall had left the door ajar, and I was able to steal out of it, in my anti-matter disguise, and onto the streets. I was free. And I left behind an Earthly party at the residence of Nick. 

Into the streets I went, and stole into perhaps Adam's car, a yellow truck, that I drove up and down and all along these streets - these American streets - and I began to look up to the night sky. Now in my alien anti-matter particulate disguise I was trusted by the powers that be, to be able to see this sky as a type of moon. Now, it was a matter of topology to be able to see it, yet the night sky, with all its stars and etchings which were craters on the surface of this, a universal moon that stretched away with gargantuan proportions, had upon it all manner of interesting divisions and impressions. One of these, may I explain, was the image of Gordon Ramsey's eyes, like a shining batman-symbol, with words I fail to remember what they were, shining down to tell us of this new topological resonance of alien provenance. Gordon Ramsey! Other resonances of this night-sky, which was like a gargantuan moon in reverse - a topological anomaly of extreme purport - were merely the lights and twinkling planets that were craters in such a moon. And someone was there. 

Someone was there explaining the entire deal to me now. A fatherly presence, who stood by me as I watched the night-sky, this moonlike gargantuan entity filling the universe in reverse, explaining that we are mere blotches on the DNA of other great and full beings, who are like Gods, but are like humans, yet we live inside their cells, and they are largely unaware of us. And he explained that, look closer and you will see, as the Sun rises what it is really made of. It was the beginnings of light, dancing like a wisp of orange paint across the horizon and among the clouds, and as it swished around - this alien craft of light and fluidity - it became the Sun, and I realised what the Sun really was in its capacity. And I watched this, the morning Sun, and it was like nothing I had ever seen, and I watched as it moved across from left to right, and was urged to take a closer look, and saw that part of the Sun unseen in usual living was jumping like a dolphin over the ocean, and was spilling of flares high up into the sky. And I had been joined by Kerry, who was watching the whole thing with awe. 

Now having seen what the universe really was, and the essence of everything it had to be, I could now go back to Nick's apartment, and did. When I arrived, the place was inundated and overrun with hundreds of dogs. These dogs were of all shapes and sizes, and were furiously running all over the place, and I was knee deep in dogs, and they were antagonised by something. It didn't take me long to find out what. I soon found, behind a curtain, at a window onto a small forecourt or garden in the middle of the house, and wrapped up in it were three cats. I recognised them to be like my own cats. And I was still alien; still anti-matter particles, and I collected up the cats, which were the cause of the distress of the hundreds of dogs, and I took the cats away, and then somehow the vision ended. 

A dream of aliens and topology no less. But calling them dreams makes pejorative a perfectly good vision, although now having written it down, the visionary aspect of the dream has become latent. Yet what I take away from this it the topology of the universe, to which I would not be privy unless I were in with the aliens. 

There, that's it. 

Daniel

x

Welcome in blog!

Blogging about what, I do not know, but for journalistic purposes I continue. 

I guess the events of last night should be recorded. 

I phoned in to Iain Lee's Twitch stream chat show and, long story short, he hung up on me... after one sentence. Perhaps it was a difficult sentence, yet having written three short pages of things to say, I think his attitude was slightly rash. It certainly did not do my ego much service. In fact, I was most upset, especially since he said, immediately after hanging up, "I just couldn't be bothered with that!"

I suppose, ego aside, that I am just one of many weirdos who phone his show, that probably do not deserve respect. However, I find his show now to be compelling, and will probably tune in whenever I can. That's how I am. 

It certainly hurt, and was gutting, and it took a great deal of energy to recover from the incident. 

I had a great dream during the night, after a beer, and it was connected to something of a difficulty of my mind. I woke from it with a clear headed sentiment that I should repeat words in thought at least three times. And this! And this, after recently coming to the conclusion that somehow my schizophrenia requires a double take on every thing I say; that is, I should repeat myself, as a matter of acceptance of my condition, at least once on those occasional moments that I feel the action is required required. 

Now, however, my dream led me to realise that a third repetition is required. It was a lovely dream, wherein I was back at my childhood home, and atop the highest level, and listening to media, and watching media, and engaging in media from the internet, circa 2002, when I was at the pinnacle of the beginning of my academic creativity, and I was drawing and listening, watching, engaging, and I was loving it. And the moment when I realised I was to include a third repetition of thoughts, I was listening to a London pirate radio station, which helped me to come to realise my realisation, and what an apt source of media influence!  

When I realised it, it came to be the case that the entire known world was there already, awaiting my realisation, and my enlightenment was met by a knock at the door, which source was the presence of my happy brother and happy sister, and also more family, and I looked out the top sash window, and neighbours were happy at my own enlightenment, and I was able to joke with them, that "This man over here is mad!!" and they loved it. And yet, I have failed to enhance or outline the joy with which my enlightenment was met: It was the entire world that had sounded their approval, with cheering and clapping, and I had finally done it. 

I awoke, and wanted to emulate a piece of art, that had helped me in coming to enlightenment, that I had been working on in dream... and it was a fine and intricate abstract portrait of Soundgarden's iconic frontman, Chris Cornell, and I see it now. And the abstract part was that there was a honeycomb style texture, with vibrant colour, to the painting, and I wished to emulate that on waking, and came to the desk, and tried to draw it, but my dreaming talents are a far greater thing than that of my waking talents, although I do try! And also, I wonder at the content of what else I was working on, in dream. I would like to have seen the writing, or heard the music. 

Also, I heard my brain-voice for the first time in a long while, last night. It came, I suspect, from the stressful anxiety of such a public rejection as was incidental that night on the internet. I find that this type of stress usually gives rise to greater effort on my part to attempt to find my way back to happiness and contentment, that new avenues are found, and hence, due to this terrible stress, I did find my happiness and contentment, and found my brain-voice, and a hint of better cranial substance for future times, that has been lost to me ever since I was given medication. You may think this is no big deal, but it is the bane of my life that certain audibility of thought is lost when you must take antipsychotics, and I am glad I still have it available. 

I daresay this is an abstruse subject, but it is niche, and you are not obtuse in lacking understanding. It's me! 

For the sake of a concise blog, I shall leave it here. 

Thank you

Daniel

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Hello, and hello, and hello to you, 

 Yesterday was the first day after the completion of my course in physics. Well, completion in the sense that all the work has now been done - I still have to wait for my results, and this happens around the 21st of July, and I anticipate the day eagerly. 

Yesterday, there were two highlights of the day. The first was that I got to see Tamsin. We met in Hendon park, walked to the middle of a field, had a chat and played some rummy whilst listening to Audioslave. We were only there for an hour, and then I caught the 113 back to Mill Hill. The second was that I was able to visit my family home where I saw my mother and father, and my brother, and we had a nice chat, and I was able to have a lovely meal of a salmon pastry and beans with chili sauce. Everybody is most impressed with my exam and course completion. 

Ryan dropped me home, and I then tried to sit at my desk and begin working on my new project, which is to learn computer science. My efforts were to download the Python package and watch a tutorial on YouTube. Python looks to be the easier between that and C++, and I daresay I won't have a great deal of difficulty with it, and hence wish to be versed in the harder of the two, C++, for which I have a book, and for which learning Python will give me a better understanding. It is very early days, and I should be a little more advanced in this area, and wish I had pursued it when I became interested in it aged eight. I will take it as far as I can, in this free four months, and I'm sure it will be a great help to my studies. 

It was not long however, before the day began to drain on me, and I became sleepy, and desired to resume in the morning, and went to lay in bed and read Penrose. I have several of his books, and have been working my way through "Fashion, Faith and Fantasy", but recently bought his "Cycles of Time", with which I chose to make a start. I was asleep by 12:30 am. 

I must just say, to remind myself, that the course content is still readily available to look at on the website (not to mention in print), and it is a half-formed thought and desire that I do review it from time to time, to refresh my knowledge, and also to go a bit more in depth into the topics of which I was only able to get a basic overview: such topics as thermodynamics and entropy, and quantum gases, and nuclear physics and particle physics. The content there is about as comprehensive as one could wish, and it is well worth a further investigation. 

But this morning, having woken up entirely at the relatively late hour of ten thirty, I realised I had had a quite fascinating dream. I wish to relate: 

At one stage I found myself in the Caribbean, specifically St. Lucia, where I have been in reality, and where in dream I was walking around and holidaying with several of my brother'f friends, and including my brother. There must be some hidden neuroses about my psychosis deeply embedded in my unconscious, because they were made manifest in my conduct, in dream, in which I feel I was making  a nuisance of myself, to my brother and his friends, in an antisocial way. I seem to recall the presence of my father in a fleeting representation, but mainly Ryan and his crew. There was a room, a bit like a fale in Samoa, where the was a bed with white sheets, and a television, and bars in the windows beyond which you could see the tropical trees - mainly green and shining. But me, being a perpetual nuisance (somehow or other) to the boys of my brother's friendship, it was the case that soon the St. Lucia mental health services were involved. Now, we are caught up at the latter end of the holiday, and everybody was getting prepared to go back home. Yet now with the services involved, and Ryan seeming to be quite - I don't know the word - acquiesced to my loopy ways and means (which involved nothing more than fevered excitement as to my wanting to stay here), he was like, "Fine! It's up to you! Stay if you like!" And the services were fully involved now, and I was to be sectioned in the Caribbean! And the way they do it here, is by giving you the strongest anti-psychotic pill that you can imagine, and I was given a choice to take the pill, and told them, "I will take it, and take it happily." But I just took a lick of a dab of it, and it had a little effect, and I was still a sprightly nuisance. The services consisted of a black nurse and a chinese nurse, and they took me to a beach, and it was night. And they told me I was to be killed on the beach, by means of a gunshot to the back of the head, and I was fine with this, and distractedly went with them, ahead of them, as they followed me behind, and yet I still had this pill in my hand. I doubted that I was going to be killed, and as soon as the doubt entered my head, so did the bullet, and I died. 

And my spirit went up across the ocean, and I was never happier, and I began to be able to see the situation of what it is like to die. That situation was actually that you can see the mothership. The mothership is  an alien spaceship that is invisible to all those living, but when you die you can see the mothership, and this one was the Deathstar from Star Wars, and everything made sense. My spirit went up into this mothership, and I was back at home, with the aliens, and realised that I was an alien. I was in the mothership, and welcomed back home, and looked in the mirror and could see my true alien form, and there were others, and one of these was Lee Kern. Yet Lee was a representative of the Earth and he knew the alien language and I was able to communicate with him about the situation. Very soon, I was able to have the chance to have sex with a beautiful woman, and was given choices about which way I wanted to have her. It seemed somehow untoward to want her in the vagina, or anus, and I chose to have her without penetration. Such a choice, it seemed, was not in the right mode for me to stay on the mothership, it being the weakest choice, and I think I was sent back. In any case, the dream ended. 

Although, I stayed asleep for some two more hours, and didn't dream anything of note in that time, and I woke and made myself coffee, and smoked a cigarette, and continued to work on my computer coding vocation. 

I also had to pick up some prescribed sleeping pills, and read a little when I was at the Broadway. When I was home, I fell asleep for half and hour, then phoned Tamsin and told her about my dream, and then I came here. Now I wish to work on  my summer vocation a little, and make a prawn curry for dinner. 

And there's the long and short of it, and there it is. And there you have it. 

Best wishes, 

Daniel

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