After the buzz, noise and excitement in the city, it was a welcoming change going to work in the middle of nowhere and nothing yesterday…walking through town with only the birds or the wind. This peace I would not find everywhere, especially not anywhere near London. Does that justify a four hour commute already? For now, Yes.
Three hours were truly easy going. Home by twelve. Until lunch was ready and most of the washing up done, it was 13:36. In a strange position on the sofa, I fell asleep, feeling in my dreams how a force dragged me off the sofa; in a dream following I made a fabulous example case for Freud’s dream interpretation as well as penis envy. Hmmmmm I am still thinking about this one, all the details which I rather keep to myself…it seems to hold my entire relationship to desire and passion of the last months.
I was even exhausted enough to sleep nine hours at night. Once again there was no one talking to me all evening (even my mother probably wanted to finish watching her Saturday night movie…), so I made good progress with my book. I read a guardian article about composers and their relation to numbers, then took their test ‘What scientist are you?’ (I wanted to be a psychologist but turns out I think more in mathematical terms.)
Sleep caught up with me so quick….surprisingly.
More dreams….unusual dreams….why can’t I ever dream of normal stuff…stuff that Japanese scientists now can predict in a normal person’s brain…like a car or a woman or whatever animal.
No, I had to dream of a stranger in a light grey sweatshirt, in a desert, throwing a wedding ring at me.
The story was more complex, but this scene was what it boils down to, until I woke up, breathless.
1:46