What's worse? The nightmare I dreamt, or the nightmare I'm living?
If I'm honest, after the deeply personal distress of my nightmare, I feel that I may consider wake as just another form of dream. Perhaps the world of wake isn't as judgmental, but my dream was about something that once happened, that I can never take back. Because I can never take it back I am tortured by its consequences.
It was a dream, about a conversation with my MA dissertation supervisor. I don't want to say anymore, it's painful. I also had a weird dream narrative just before that conversation which was about how my brother recently said he isn't coming home anymore. I almost feel like I've lost him. I feel sad. I feel lonely, and because of my dissertation supervisor dream experience I feel rejected.
I'm awake, prepared myself, had a nice poo, and I am clothed. It's 9am. Perhaps I can salvage a good day. I'm thinking about going to the university of London to see a discussion about 'the future of humaniities'. An old professor I once had is going and also a great scholar I respect is going. Since my nightmare is about PhD rejections, I guess it would be pertinent to see what the future of humanities holds.
My life is turned upside down. The guy who used to get D's in 'A' level is doing a PhD in astrophysics and me, with the perfect grades is working a pitiful casual part time job, interning pro bono and financially I just ate into my ISA nest egg.
It's deadly cold outside. I think I'm going to catch up on things today. I won't talk about yesterday because basically nothing happened. I interened, no one was in the office (they were too busy with life to go and work) so I listened to some Bach in the office space. I'm not sure if I over or under ate. I did eat a lot of fat and cals for lunch, I had two big packets of the bacon crisps, they taste so evil. As I got home I partook of mostly bread, or what I call a 'butter sandwich'. I like the butter sandwich. It's fatty, but also wholesome, like me.
Oh yeah, something else happened yesterday worth nothing. I asked out Dobby. She kinda said no. So, balls. I really liked her, and she doesn't know what she's missing...now I feel a bit sad. But one soldiers on, like a soldier. I bet those brave British men and women at Helmand don't sulk, they suck it in and fight on...and then lose limbs and suffer deep psychological scars after what they've seen. Okay, bad example.
If I'm honest, after the deeply personal distress of my nightmare, I feel that I may consider wake as just another form of dream. Perhaps the world of wake isn't as judgmental, but my dream was about something that once happened, that I can never take back. Because I can never take it back I am tortured by its consequences.
It was a dream, about a conversation with my MA dissertation supervisor. I don't want to say anymore, it's painful. I also had a weird dream narrative just before that conversation which was about how my brother recently said he isn't coming home anymore. I almost feel like I've lost him. I feel sad. I feel lonely, and because of my dissertation supervisor dream experience I feel rejected.
I'm awake, prepared myself, had a nice poo, and I am clothed. It's 9am. Perhaps I can salvage a good day. I'm thinking about going to the university of London to see a discussion about 'the future of humaniities'. An old professor I once had is going and also a great scholar I respect is going. Since my nightmare is about PhD rejections, I guess it would be pertinent to see what the future of humanities holds.
My life is turned upside down. The guy who used to get D's in 'A' level is doing a PhD in astrophysics and me, with the perfect grades is working a pitiful casual part time job, interning pro bono and financially I just ate into my ISA nest egg.
It's deadly cold outside. I think I'm going to catch up on things today. I won't talk about yesterday because basically nothing happened. I interened, no one was in the office (they were too busy with life to go and work) so I listened to some Bach in the office space. I'm not sure if I over or under ate. I did eat a lot of fat and cals for lunch, I had two big packets of the bacon crisps, they taste so evil. As I got home I partook of mostly bread, or what I call a 'butter sandwich'. I like the butter sandwich. It's fatty, but also wholesome, like me.
Oh yeah, something else happened yesterday worth nothing. I asked out Dobby. She kinda said no. So, balls. I really liked her, and she doesn't know what she's missing...now I feel a bit sad. But one soldiers on, like a soldier. I bet those brave British men and women at Helmand don't sulk, they suck it in and fight on...and then lose limbs and suffer deep psychological scars after what they've seen. Okay, bad example.
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