Tag Archives: forgetting

Dreams can(‘t) come true

I am often regaled with stories of dreams by others. In the past I was very much of the Dennis from Sunny mentality, in that if it doesn’t involve me and nobody’s having sex, I don’t care. But then, in recent years, I’ve sort of stopped remembering my dreams. Apart from the odd one here and there, maybe once a month or every two months, when I’ll have a really vivid dream, and angry one or a sad one usually. Then I remember. Usually though, I do not.

And since that’s been the case, I’ve found myself not hating hearing about the dreams of others. In fact, there’s almost some comfort in them telling me what inanity/insanity has gone through their subconscious the night before.

Naturally it’s always better if I’m in it or someone’s having sex, but I can stand to hear “and then I walked through the threshold BUT IT WAS A CAVE! Also I was a Jedi” and not want to vomit blood directly into the nasal passages of whoever it is regaling me with said coma-recollection.

I don’t want to guess why I’ve changed, but my C at GCSE psychology qualifies me to do so. So I will. I think I just miss dreaming, or at least remembering them. The dreams I do remember I don’t like – which is why I remember them, I suppose. It’s comforting to hear the daftness that comes out of the minds of others that they remember, and it gives me hope that one day I will start remembering the rubbish ones. Not just the ones where I literally wake up shaking with anger and spend the rest of the day in a genuinely bad mood because of something my brain has made up.

And yeah, brain – stop dreaming about the dog please. She died eight years ago. Stop trying to pretend she’s still alive, thus making me wake up unhappy. You fucking cunt.

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The day my life changed forever (today)

There are things in life that come along and change you. They make you a different person, as instantly as… instant mash. These things are unavoidable and inevitable – you cannot get away from the fact that, at some point, you will encounter something that irrevocably changes your entire life. Today was one of those days for me.

I was all set to write a blog about something different, to chat shit about nonsense and chit chat about nothing at all. I was happy to fill hundreds of words with inane wordage, as I usually do. But then I was shown something. I was shown something bad. I’ve seen it, I can’t un-see it.

As a result of what it was I saw, my mind wandered away from the task at hand. Whereas initially I had a vague idea of the topic I would cover in today’s entry, not five minutes after I saw the thing I had forgotten entirely what I wanted to scrawl. Not only had it wiped my mind, though, it had changed me as a person.

Immediately I felt it, and since seeing it just a few hours ago I haven’t felt the same. I haven’t felt like Ian Dransfield. I haven’t even felt like an Ian. It’s a good job there’s no one else around right now, as they wouldn’t be able to recognise me as me.

I hope I will recover, at least in some small way. I hope I can return to my usual nonsense by tomorrow, or that I can even concentrate on my work that needs doing during the day. I hope I can end up back in control.

But I know I will never be the same again. And it’s all because of this.

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