Sunday, September 07, 2008
Riding the nightmare
What Gordon Brown was doing in my dream I do not know – and much as I would like to, I can’t remember the conclusion of the dreaded thing: At some stage he was eating a commercially produced cup cake (it had something to do with proving his ‘Britishness’) and, after deftly separating out the sponge and the neatly parcelled chocolate filling (which he passed over to me), he ate it … then?
All very strange and disturbed: The ubiquitous thumping base from a parking car suddenly stopped only to be followed by the raised high pitch voice of one of the occupants as she struggles to find her pass key to the apartment block shattering the visions; and I surface on a fast rising swell of consciousness.
You don’t always notice the physicality of such an awakening – but my head was still swimming as I registered the slight chill – it must have been two or three in the morning to have cooled that much. Yesterday was hot. It wasn’t the hottest it has been this year but the heat has become tiresome and the season should have shifted down a gear by now.
There are too many disturbances in the night – you have to sleep with the window open or the bedding is soaked, the pillow needs a day of sunbathing to dry out and the sweat pouring from you dehydrates - you wake several times with a dry mouth and the nascent ache of a forming migraine.
Better to face the buzz of invading insects and the unnecessary sirens of police and ambulance speeding along essentially empty roads. And the obligatory drunks and dogs … last night there was a soul touching half hour of the sort of howling which can only accompany serious injury or the loss of something one loves … a howling and baying accompanied not by the barks of other canines but by their whimpering and silence.
Unusually I soon slipped back into unconsciousness leaving the prescience of a night full of its own untold stories and fantasies.
Labels: Know Thyself, Timisoara
