Dreaming of... um, er...

OMG! The dreams have started again. I'd forgotten about the dreams. The rich, weird dreams. I've kind of missed them.

They started a few days ago...

dream 1

I'm sitting on a red, double-decker London bus, on a sort of toilet podium, with a throne made out of a can, near the back entrance, pulling shit from my arse, like big, round pebbles. The more I pull out the bigger my arse hole gets, so I can fit my whole hand up there to grab them, until everyone on the bus is standing around me discussing my problem, good-naturedly suggesting what I can do.

dream 2

I've got a massive comb-over. It starts from the nape of my neck and combs forward to create a fringe, sitting low on my forehead. I look in the mirror and my hair looks quite normal, but then I lift it like a solid thing that hinges at the back, like a flip top head and it lifts up in one piece exposing my pimply, alabaster white skull.

dream 3

I'm lost in a city, of endless streets and endless tram lines. Eventually, I run into two girls who live in a house that opens directly onto the street. I round a corner and literally bump right into them. They invite me in to find my bearings. I tell them that I'm used to staying in Walahra with my friend (which is true) and that I wasn't used to their side of the city. Which means I'm in Sydney, except for the trams, except for the city looking at varying times like Milan, or London. I sit on the steps of their house which lead down from the front door to their basement rooms, directly next to me is a room with a large glass bottle - like one that would have had a ship in it - bigger than me, which is full of blue and red liquid, which somehow stays on either side of the inside of the bottle, despite nothing, seemingly separating the two colours. As I look at the bottle, it starts to leak all over the floor.

To be strictly correct, I guess, they haven't started again, it's just that I'm remembering them, as I'm now 2 weeks off the pot. Apparently, being stoned when you go to bed stops you from remembering your dreams when you wake up.

I've always had really vivid dreams, ever since I was a child. I haven't woken up in a sweat, in the middle of the night for ages, like I did, strangely enough, with the comb-over dream.

I used to like waking up in wonder in the mornings, thinking, Wow! What the hell does that mean? It's that which I've missed. I used to love it as a child, waking up in awe of myself, or at least, in awe of my sick imagination.

I'm 2 days off the cigarettes, too and feeling like crap.

I know, I can hear the collective yawn. I'm not going to say any more about it. Maybe, I'll mention it again when I get to twelve months clean?

I'm only two steps away from being a non-smoker.