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Monday, 6 October 2003

Diagnosis: barely suppressed rage

Mood:  on fire
Now Playing: Frank Sinatra

Last night I got a break from acting as five hour trampoline for two insane cats who don't quite fit onto a single bed. (Apparently sleeping in the washing basket is quite the in-thing today, if you're a cat.)
You'd have thought this meant I get more sleep? No bloody chance. Took till 3am to get some shut eye, then all of that was wasted on weird nightmares. Which in itself would merely be irritating, but no; my nightmares would have to be bloody transparent even to a retard who spotted a flashcard titled 'Freud' in 1976.
Context: although splitting up with my ex-girlfriend, I've been doing my best to be reasonable. This involves being aloof when the waterworks start, not slagging her off to my friends, and being scrupulous about not blogging anything which would leave either of us feeling bad**.
The downside of being reasonable, as Briar pointed out yesterday, is the ensuing feelings of barely suppressed, simmering, near-homicidal rage.

Anyway, so last night I spent the twilight hours visualising limbs being torn apart (John Irving: 'The Fourth Hand' - not at all recommended), then continued the theme into the zzz-hours, with REM functions that involved me standing in front of a terrorist planted time-bomb.
My response to this obvious position of moral authority was to slowly and carefully kill in cold blood six potential bomb -defusers (is defusers a word?). I shot them one by one, and watched them scream and twist as they died.
When two were left, whimpering and crawling to get away, I quite deliberately, and without justification set off a semtex charge against my chest, exploding the incendiary device I was guarding, and killing everything within several miles.
[innocent girly face] Gee, I wonder what that dream means? [ end innocent girly face ]

I think I had better find some more rational way to express the anger I patently can't avoid feeling, before the cats find a premature end.

** I think we can safely say this phase is ending.

Sleepwatch: 3 hours.

This page graced by sarsparilla at 8:14 PM BST
Updated: Monday, 6 October 2003 10:28 PM BST
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Monday, 6 October 2003 - 8:43 PM BST

Name: Briar
Home Page:

Should I be feeling guilty now for pointing these things out?

I do... :(

I think I should have shut up.

Monday, 6 October 2003 - 9:20 PM BST

Name: Vanessa

Don't worry, my fevered dreamworld was at least 110% to blame.

Tuesday, 7 October 2003 - 1:04 AM BST

Name: Vic loves Tess
Home Page:

The inclusion of me in any dream improves its quality by a factor of three at least. 5 when it's erotic.

Tuesday, 7 October 2003 - 7:20 AM BST

Name: Vanessa

Aha. Well, erm... you'd have to forward some 'stimulus material' for that, then.

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