Sunday, 24th of June

We dream each night, then talk all day and discuss what (if anything) we are going to do. I have never felt so much part of a community, but I’ve also never felt so lonely as well. Here we are in a big manor house in West Wales, the only thirteen people – perhaps in the world – who share these experiences, and it allows us a window into each other’s souls. Over the course of each day we don’t just talk about our dreams (that might be a recipe for insanity), but bond as we discuss other things and find out what we have in common. I am part of something here, something that is incredibly and uncannily special.
However I am also very alone. Each night we sleep by ourselves – which of course is better to aid our dreams – but it means that I miss Julie. Even though I see her in the day, she is just one of the group now – the member I know best, but still one of thirteen alike souls. I am making new friends, forging new connections, but in the process I seem to have lost my girlfriend.

Dexter Phillips is right though, we need to concentrate on the dreams. A bruised heart is going to be the least of our worries when this thing slams into Earth and it all begins.

Wednesday, 6th of June

A quick note that I’m typing hurriedly in the corridor of a train, having excused myself to go to the loo.
I had a call from Alison!

Yes, Alison, my Australian girlfriend who disappeared from my life (and everybody else’s) at the start of the year. I hadn’t thought of her in days, but my phone went off yesterday evening from a  with-held number. At first I couldn’t hear her, it was just static. I was just about to hang up thinking it was a dreadful line, when I heard her voice in the background. It only lasted a few seconds, but she said: “Have a great time in Wales! I’m sure you’ll find what you need!”

Has she read this blog, is that how she knows? But then how can she have found me in Budapest? That wasn’t on this blog beforehand. And of course the biggest question, why does she reach out so obliquely?

I haven’t told Julie about this, I haven’t told Dexter Phillips about Julie either – and yet I can’t help thinking this has something to do with our dreams.

Tuesday, 15th of May

It happened again!
Last night Julie had the same dream of underground terror that Denise, Dexter and I did. Of course she has heard so much about these dreams from me that it would surely be possible for her to recreate them in her psyche – and that was the reason why I didn’t tell the others about it yesterday. But the fact that she’s now had the same dream as us two nights in a row cannot just be a combination of an overactive imagination and coincidence. It has to be something more. I called Dexter Phillips and, after a moment’s pause, I heard his voice break into a smile. He very much wants to meet her.

Sunday, 13th of May

And so I’ve had a lot to think about this week, a great deal to contemplate. I’ve been in contact with Dexter Phillips on a daily basis. Each morning I call him and tell him what I dreamt the night-before, then we compare notes. It’s interesting as when I have the dream of me stood on my street knowing something is going to strike from above, he has a dream where he’s outside his house with exactly the same feelings of anxiety. When I dream I’m in the Surrey Quays shopping centre with a monster rising from below, he is also dreaming of a subterranean doom coming for us all. I also speak to Denise, and it’s uncanny how closely the three of us dream.
Julie is fascinated by it. We stay up late and talk about in bed, and I tell her my dreams and Dexter’s dreams and Denise’s dreams and we try to interpret it all. She hasn’t seen the things inside my head, so as an outsider may spot some sign or hint I’ve missed. I’m glad I have her. She no longer looks at me as if I’m weird, instead she hangs on what I tell her and is there to offer help.

She’s a godsend. There are even moments when I think I’m in love with her.

Wednesday, 9th of May

Within days, Dexter Phillips told me, he had moved out of the flat he shared with his (albeit increasingly distant) girlfriend and in with his student. It was an insane thing to do, something that was bound to anger the University authorities if or (more likely) when they heard about it, but the way he saw things there was no other choice. The dreams were so all encompassing, so much part of his life, that to be near someone who understood was all he could think of. He saw it as the sane thing for him to do.
Briefly he asked about my relationship status. I told him that Julie was trying to be very understanding, but didn’t really mention Alison. Even though I think she’s part of all this, the strangeness of what’s happened with Alison seemed an aspect to save for another day.

Before he was pushed, Dexter Phillips left the University and immersed himself in the world of dreams. There are apparently conferences and forums and get-togethers for dream seers, there are publications which exist both in print and on the web, designed to help people interpret their dreams. He made himself present in that world, told anyone who would listen what was happening in his head – what was happening in his young girlfriend’s head – and gradually he found people who’d had the same experiences, the very same dreams. Some came to him, some he sought out – but gradually a group is moving together.

He has ten so far, including himself. I am the eleventh.

Monday, 23rd of April

I had a coffee with Julie yesterday. This time I’m being open, this time I’m being upfront. I told her about Elvina and how she appears in my dreams, and how I’ve developed the notion that she is connected in some way to them. Of course it was totally possible that Julie may have raised a sceptical eyebrow at this, and to be honest I think she restrained herself. (I liked her even more than I did already for that.) As obviously it’s more than likely that I appear utterly delusional when explaining all of this, and maybe Julie’s desire to be sympathetic would have been sorely tested and strained if it wasn’t for the email address which had been pressed into my hand. The surprise at that news was impossible for her to hide, but it was a pleased surprise. Even though this is beyond Julie’s realm of experience, even though the tendency of any normal person would be to view me as ‘weird’ or ‘mad’, she can perhaps see a glimmer that there might be something more – something which needs to be followed – in what I’m saying.
We held each other close at the end and kissed softly. Julie promised again to be with me throughout all of this. I don’t know if we’re just really affectionate friends now, or whether we’ll become lovers, but I’m just glad I have her at my side.

Wednesday, 18th of April

I met with Julie last night – for the first time since we broke up and she charged away from me in a taxi down Shaftesbury Avenue. As you can imagine I was nervous as hell, wondering what on earth the evening was going to bring. All day long I steeled myself for a drink hurled into my face, or a ruthless pulling apart of my personality. Mid afternoon I went and sat in the toilet cubicle and tried to work out how bad it could possibly be, and then readied myself for that eventuality. In short, I was terrified.
We met in The Sherlock Holmes on Northumberland Avenue, and one thing I didn’t expect was that she would be there early. I walked in and there she sat, just inside the door, by the window. On the table in front of her was a vodka and coke, which she had consumed half of already. She looked good, dressed in a long black dress with an understandably pensive look on her face. When she saw me though, she did smile as best she could. Only hesitating for a second, I gave her a kiss on the cheek and hurried up to get a drink.

I couldn’t conceive that there was any way I’d have a long time to say my piece, so I spoke quickly. For the first time I told her properly about my dreams, about the incredible visions I have inside my head; explaining that on a regular basis I see the world destroyed, and have to find out what’s going on. I could feel myself talking fast, as I was so excited and desperate to get it all out – but as calmly as I could manage I told her that I’d somehow boxed myself into a corner where I wasn’t telling her what was happening, what the concerns of my mind were. That’s the reason I broke up with her, there wasn’t anything else at all.

And when I looked at her again she was crying.

Surprised I almost blurted out: “Are you okay?” But I noticed in between her tears, a smile.

“Oh,” she said, “you stupid man! You could have told me this at any point. I’ll always be there for you. Please don’t shut me out again. I’m here for you. I’m always here for you.”

I held her hand back. “I’ve missed you,”

“I’ve missed you too.”

As we couldn’t hope the hold the serious pitch all evening long, from then on the conversation got lighter. We caught up with each other and all the latest news in our lives. All the time holding hands across the table, our fingers twisted in tight together.

And, incredibly, at the end we kissed. Outside the pub we walked without touching, just our shoulders brushing for a moment or two. I didn’t know what was going to happen, whether anything was going to happen at all – but when we turned to face each other it felt right. It was a soft kiss, a gentle kiss – dare I say it – a loving kiss. We didn’t snog, we didn’t grope. We just passed how much we cared about each other across in a simple brush of the lips. There was no official confirmation, but I think I might be able to count her as my girlfriend again. I want to certainly.

We’re meeting up again Sunday.

Saturday, 14th of April - addendum

I didn’t call her, but I did text Julie and apologised again for our last evening together and asked her how she was. It took her well over a day to reply, but finally she did – a quick text, just telling me that she was fine. She ended her message with the question mark of how I was (perhaps just to be polite, I don’t know). I’ve responded by telling her I’m okay, but wondering whether she’d like to have a coffee, just to chat. I’ve had nothing back yet. I don’t know if she’ll go for it or not.

Wednesay, 11th of April

I have to more closely examine what’s happening in my dreams. That’s why I’m trying to change things in them, that’s why I’m running towards the explosions now. I want to see what happens when I get there (if I get there) and through that find out what all these visions mean. Maybe it’s as simple as working out on a personal level why I am having these dreams, what’s going on inside my head. Although the suspicion remains that these dreams are related to the wider world. I am getting more and more convinced that this is not just about what’s happening inside my skull, but instead has a much wider impact. What is that? What does it mean?
For a long stretch this year I felt like I was lost, but now I have a mission.

And okay, each evening I do come home and feel lonely. It’s not good when the main things you think about in your life are you dreams and your blog. I was considering today that maybe I should ask Julie out for a coffee, apologise to her – is that a good idea?

Wednesday, 4th of April

I was stood in The City again last night, rooted to the spot as all those hundreds of people raced towards me. It’s an odd sensation when they charge in my direction because undoubtedly I’m scared, but I also have an incredible and exhilarating feeling of calm. My heart is racing in my chest, yet I still feel so relaxed about what’s happening, open to whatever is going to take place. The thoughts race through my mind that I’m going to be trampled, ripped apart – sharp little fingernails tearing into my flesh and scattering my muscles from my bones. And yet even though these thoughts are there, even though they are absolutely terrifying – I am not bothered by them. Last night – like most nights before when I have this dream – I stand rooted to the spot with these thoughts muted, a pacific air having taken over me completely.
But last night I looked at the crowd and the first person I saw was Julie. Fury had twisted her face so that all prettiness had been ripped from it. The panic finally rose up inside me just as she slashed across my eyes.

Tuesday, 3rd of April

No response yet from Julie, but I did get a text from bloody Alison.
“I’m sorry to hear the news,” it said, “hope you’re bearing up. Alison. x”

How the bloody hell could she know? What is going on? My first impulse was to get in touch with Julie and find out who she had told and then work my way to Alison through that route, but I can’t help thinking that the subject of Alison is going to be a raw one between Julie and I at the moment (if and when we do speak again), so I can’t do that. But what else can it be?

Is she reading this blog?

Alison, if you’re out there, let me know.

Monday, 2nd of April

Well I can’t say it was my most productive session with Louise. Of course I told her my news straight off, almost blurted it out in fact – but then had to justify it. For much the same reason as I couldn’t adequately explain to Julie why I couldn’t see her anymore, so I couldn’t explain to Louise. I’ve not told either of them – these women I speak to more than any others – what has been going on in my head. So scared have I been of their disapproval, so annoyed that they didn’t understand and seemingly made no effort to understand, that I have blanked them both out of the important issues that bother my thoughts.
It of course begs the question, what the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I simply sit down and type into this blog, why don’t I reach out to anyone else around me? There are people who care for me (as well as the one person who is paid to care for me) – friends, family and a lover. Why do I persist on shutting them all out? Why do I instead sit here and type by myself, creating a monument to my madness?

So it wasn’t a happy encounter with Louise, and she clearly thought that when I couldn’t justify it that I should maybe reconsider my decision. That’s what she suggested.

I didn’t go that far, though I did text Julie and tell her once again I was sorry. So far I have had no reply.

Sunday, 1st of April

Well I broke up with Julie last night. It was a terrible and teary encounter in the corner of a Dutch Bar in the West End. She wanted to know why (of course she wanted to know why) and the worst thing of it was that I couldn’t really explain why. The simple truth is that because I’ve been shielding so many things that have gone on in my head from her, there was just no way I could adequately explain what I was feeling. To truly tell her I would have to rewrite everything that had gone on in the last couple of months – the last couple of, in the main, really happy months – to make her understand the madness inside my skull. As such I failed to give her anything near a decent explanation, and left her with the impression that I just wasn’t over Alison. That the reason it wasn’t fair for me to see her anymore was that thoughts of Alison were still too much in my mind. And maybe to a certain extent that’s true, but not in the way she imagined it. She just thought I was a shit who had been in love, and then led her on knowing I was still in love. But it isn’t like that at all, but there was no way to tell her what it really was.
Even more horrible was the fact that she ran off, she couldn’t bear to be with me anymore. She excused herself to the toilet, and I looked up and saw her charge to the exit of the pub. By the time I got near her again, she’d got in a taxi and was sailing away.

On the way home there were tears in my eyes as well. All I could think of was how happy we were at the start, how well suited. I loved that she made me feel so calm, so relaxed with her – she got me out of my head. But the problems were only shelved, they were never properly put away and so I was unable to ignore them forever. Really I should have confided in her more, made her understand – that’s why I was a shit, because she was my girlfriend and I couldn’t find a way to be truly honest with her.

I have problems clearly, many deep problems.

But she’s right. I’m also a shit.

Saturday, 31st of March - addendum

I’ve spent the last two nights in my house and I think Julie is starting to pick up that there is a growing distance between us. I’m seeing her tonight for drinks in Chinatown (we’re meeting in De Hems). I don’t know how it’s going to go.

Thursday, 29th of March

When I was first with Julie, I didn’t have dreams in her bed. Those nights  I was between her pink and scented duvet, within her oddly girly room (it's a bit incongruous to her personality actually), it seemed like there was some magic power warding my dreams off.
That doesn’t seem to be the case now.

Now I wake up in the small hours covered in sweat as frequently as if I was in my own bed. Fortunately Julie is a sound sleeper, and so there’s no need for me to try and explain it to her while in a scared, emotional and irrational state of mind. In the morning she does wonder why I’m so sleepy, but I’m able to shrug her away (I’m never great in the mornings). As long as I don’t lash out in my sleep I’ll be fine, but never mentioning what’s going on is starting to get me down.

Wednesday, 28th of March

I find myself missing Alison. Not because I dream about her a lot, but because in her disappearance and subsequent messages (as well as what might have been her brief reappearance in Hungary) I feel that she’s somehow a lot more connected with me now. I think if I was to sit down and talk to her about my dreams and what I’m thinking, then Alison would understand. It’s like she’s part of it, as if we’re on the same wavelength. (I know that’s not how I necessarily felt about her during our brief relationship, but it’s a sensation I can’t shake now). I know I have Julie, a new girlfriend, but she doesn’t understand and so I don’t try talking to her about it anymore. If I’m honest I think it’s causing a bit of distance between us.
I have all these thoughts and visions in my mind and no one to share them with – apart from perhaps my ex girlfriend (who has vanished) and maybe a female Elvis impersonator in North London.

Jesus! When I put it like that I see that, I really am fucking insane.

Wednesday, 21st of March

I now understand why people who’ve read Nostradamus say he’s too vague. My father went through it as an undergraduate and he told me that the language is so flowery and the images so opaque, that you can interpret these ramblings to mean virtually anything. Yes he predicted ‘Hister’, but a lot of the others require a huge leap of imagination. I don’t think that I’m a new Nostradamus (not least because this blog is supposed to be there to promote my new novel – that might dent my credibility), but I now see some of the problems about prophesising the future. After all what I am really seeing? Is the world going to end when a meteor strikes, or a nuclear explosion, or some ancient monster from below, or something else? It’s impossible for me to tell, and predicting all those things at once just seems like desperation, as if no matter what happens I’ll be right.
Perhaps my therapist is correct and I have a problem, maybe my girlfriend is correct and I shouldn’t worry about it – but I can’t get these things out of my head.

Sunday, 18th of March

I tried to tell Julie about my dreams last night. We had a quiet night in and it was so sweet and pleasant an evening, and there just seemed to be such a deep and strong connection between us, that it appeared the right thing to do. I wanted her to share my thoughts, to understand what was going on in my head.
However, before I got very far at all, she kissed me on the nose and told me that the dreams would pass. I didn’t mention anything more about them, nor did I let on how deflated I felt.

I haven’t told her about seeing Alison (or the text message); I didn’t mention my suspicion that someone else had been in my flat; and now I’m keeping my dreams back from Julie as well. It’s strange as I like her a lot, we have a really good relationship together, but there is just so much going on inside my head that she doesn’t know about. There is just so much of me that she is clueless of.

My therapist doesn’t want to know, so is this the blog my only outlet for these worries? Is there anyone out there who understands what I’m going through?

Thursday, 8th of March

And so the dreams return. A week ago I felt so happy and confident, as if my dark days were behind me. I see now that these demons haven’t gone anywhere.
Last night I was in the park again, stood there watching Elvina and knowing – from the coldness at the back of my neck – what was going to come next. Clearly the end of the world is on its way, and last night it involved a large mushroom cloud.

Checking back on this blog I see that I didn’t know who the woman beside me was in my initial dream. Now I do know. It’s Alison and she is smiling at me. She’s smiling at me in such a way that shows she knows what’s coming and is seemingly looking forward to it.

I start to panic – a combination of the fear of what’s about to occur and the fact that Alison’s mere presence is so unsettling. But I don’t do anything. I stand there and watch as Elvina arches herself deliciously back in the sunlight. Then at the final moment Alison clutches my fingers and I clutch back. We smile at each other.

And then we go boom.

Wednesday, 7th of March

So where does that leave me?
Well of course I haven’t mentioned it to Julie. Instead I just told her how much fun we had, about the bars we visited and the music we listened to. I think she suspects that I’m being less than candid on the subject of strip clubs, but that’s fine (and what’s expected on a lad’s weekend). She’ll never guess about Alison, and I don’t want to worry or distress her.

Did I dream it? There are moments (particularly if I wake up at four in the morning) when I think I must have hallucinated the whole thing. But then in that instant, I was so certain, so convinced that she was there. And certainly the text was real (I still have it, it clearly came from her phone). I don’t see she could have known in any way that I was going to Budapest, yet somehow she did know – so does that mean she went there as well?

How could she know?

Why would she follow me like that?

The answer to where does that leave me, is confused.