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?

Tuesday, 10th of April

Last night I had the dream where I was stood on my street. It’s a cold day (is the temperature something I’ve only started noticing in these dreams, or was it there before? We are heading into summer in the UK – or what passes as summer – so is the temperature in anyway significant?) and I feel the wind licking my skin. Before I can remember being naked in this dream – but now I look down and see I am in shorts and T-shirt. I'm almost dressed for a run.

This dream has burnt through my mind so many times now, that I know exactly which part of the sky the fireball will trail across. I am forearmed and ready. Slowly at first but rapidly picking up speed, I start to run to where that fireball should land. The streets are eerily quiet – I am the only person anywhere on the streets of South London, and running with a wild sense of purpose makes me seem doubly out of place.

I run fast, scarper, getting to the main road in Surrey Quays and pointing myself in the direction of The City. The Gherkin is ahead. But no matter how fast I go, I am not fast enough. Suddenly the sky is ripped apart by that familiar red streak – I see it nearer than it’s ever been before – then there’s a boom and everything vanishes around me.

Monday, 9th of April

So what about religion? Is that something which, on this of all weekends, could help me? No, I don’t think so. Both my parents are fundamentalist atheists, and so the way I was raised precludes me from reaching for the church. I just don’t see the appeal of it, I don’t see the reality of it. So even in this moment of crisis, I can’t fall back on it. Besides there is nothing in these dreams that makes me think of The Bible – even The Old Testament or apocalyptic Revelations stuff. No this is something different.
The more I think about it, the more I believe these dreams are a puzzle to be solved. I am dreaming of the world ending in so many different ways: meteors from the sky; nuclear explosions; creatures from beneath; a rampaging madness that tears apart humanity itself. I see an after world that is cold and dark, but there are survivors – so how does that relate to my other dreams? In those visions of destruction it all looks so final (certainly for me, I seem to be at the centre of all of them), so how could I – and other people as well – manage to survive?

No these dreams can’t all be literal, they can’t be straight premonitions. They are telling something else and I just have to work out what that is.

Sunday, 8th of April

To Clerkenwell to see Elvina last night. (What else did anyone expect me to do when in London by myself on a Saturday?)  I thought it might be quiet with the Bank Holiday and so many people being out of the city, but instead it was packed. Lots of eager eyed blokes who were already paid up members of her fan club, or had heard about her and were desperate to see what all the fuss was about. She didn’t disappoint, slinking onto stage, making sure everyone lingered over the length of her legs, the plump roundness of her bust and the lasciviousness of her pout. She was a cartoon cheesecake pin-up, surrounded by a pack of salivating wolves and loving every second. Through the show she blew kisses to the crowd, winked at us and treated us to some banter about how when she got out of her tight clothes, it was hard for her to put anything on again for awhile (you can imagine the reaction she got from that).
I was too far back to make any real connection, or for her to see me. As much as I enjoyed her show that was a shame as last night I felt like I could have spoken to her. When she comes off stage for a break she sometimes makes her way to the bar, and I thought I could have lurched over and just introduced myself. Told her I was a big fan and that I sometimes wrote about her, just to see what she said, how she reacted, whether she did know me. I didn’t care last night, I was feeling like I did when that mugger held a knife to my throat in January and I refused to give any money – I just didn’t worry about the consequences. The throng was too wound up though for her safely make her way through, but I’ll be back. I felt confident last night and I feel confident today. The thought has struck that the things inside my head are like a puzzle and it’s up to me to solve them. And I can solve them.

Saturday, 7th of April

The Surrey Quays dream last night. There I am again, standing outside of the shopping centre – the car park and various happy consumers in front of me – and I’m feeling that something below is about to rise up. There is a power beneath my feet, a force so incredible and endlessly malignant.  I don’t know what it is, but it’s there and moving horrifyingly to the surface. It is not an earthquake I am sensing. An earthquake (not that we ever have them in Britain anyway) is something natural, an event which happens in life. They are hardly benign, of course, but they don’t come with a sense of evil. Whatever this thing is there’s definite malice wrapped around it, like some Lovecroftian monster stirring from a long hibernation.
I felt cold in the dream last night, so very cold. Is that my fear manifesting itself, or does this things arrival herald a new coldness?

That lady with the baby is in front of me again in the dream. I see her each time. I’m sure I’ve also now seen her in real life. Did I dream about her before I saw her, or did I just insert her into my dream? I stare at her and try to work out whether she is cold, whether she can feel the same thing I can. It all happens so quickly, but I think that just before the ground cracks she pulls her jacket tighter to her neck and holds the baby closer. Maybe she feels this dreadful presence as well. Perhaps I am not alone.

Friday, 6th of April

No response from Julie.

No word from Alison yet either.

Maybe I should have used this Good Friday to go and see my family, get out of London and take a break. Instead I decided to stay here with all the thoughts and madness in my head. Yes it will keep me company, but it’s hardly ideal. The thing is I have no real plan for this Bank Holiday weekend in London, so at the moment I’m just going to drift through Easter.

Things I can possibly do:

1.      Call up one of my friends. I haven’t seen them that much over the last few weeks, (but that’s par of the course in a new relationship). This will be a good chance to see if anyone is about for a catch up.

2.      Go and see one of the various exhibitions around town – I hear Hockney is good.

3.      Buy myself a big fucking Easter egg for Sunday, be truly decadent.

4.      Go and see Elvina in Clerkenwell. Gaze at her in the spotlight as she does her stuff. I’m dreaming of her regularly now and would love to speak to her – but how weird would that be? I’m aware that I can’t approach her to tell her how great she looks in my dreams. I might as well just start openly masturbating in front of her.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, but still I haven’t put on my list:

5.       Go and see my family in South Wales. The trains are running – why don’t I?

The answer is, even if I am going to be bored and lonely, I don’t want to leave London, I just feel I have to be here.

Thursday, 5th of April

I’ve received a very positive review of my novel from the nice people at Spinetinglers (which I will post here when it’s published). At the moment it’s one of the few things in my life that I’m feeling positive about. There’s something odd in that as it’s a novel about the publication of a book which looks to be the central character’s salvation. But of course, that salvation proves ephemeral.

Maybe I shouldn’t rely solely on my novel’s existence for good feeling.

But please do buy a copy.