aBigForehead

For a while now I have not been living, not really, not for what matters.

Been stressed. Lord, been stressed and for what?

Been living like a hermit, not talking to anyone and for what?

The only area that has thrived is my wardrobe.

Been shopping, Lord, been shopping and for what? Got nowhere to go any way. Made damn sure of that.

Yesterday I met two friends which was weird, would I be able to hold a conversation with two people at once? While I got ready I danced. Not the sort of dancing I would dare to do in public but boy did it do me good. I stopped to pant and think when the last time I danced was. When my mind drifted back and back to a place I was afraid it would not return from I realised there was a lot I had given up on.  Now I fancy dance classes, to go loco and get fit in one stupendous go.

There I go making everything have a purpose, give it a raison d' etre. Why can't I just go dancing? And dance without giving it meaning?

When I left the house I ate at three different establishments within a 6 hour period- Portuguese, was it? French and then Thai. Pad thai noodles, the best I have had outside of Thailand. I ate like I hadn't eaten for months. I laughed too and it felt weird to laugh so often and hear the sound of my own laughter. Maybe it was the food, maybe the company, most likely a heady combination that was all too much for the hermit in the new clothes that were a little too big.

I got home thinking, this is it, things have got to change and they have to change now. The thought has an Italian accent in my head.

I dream vividly- not something that happens anymore- and in the dream I am a fighter of sorts rebelling against something or other- so I dropped into the dream midway, what can I do, it happens- and I and a couple of others burst into a room where Muslim women sit on the floor reading. I shout, 'Stop reading and start acting' or some such thing and my father comes out of nowhere(it's a dream give me a break)  leads me by the elbow and marches me to the people I am rebelling against, straight into their machine-gun totting hands.

Cheers, aabe.

The bad guys(cause I'm ALWAYS good) and I are now on a ship. Stay with me. And all around are people, people, people, on the ship and beyond. I am about to be executed.

Cheers, aabe.

I am not alone, the other good guys are also going to get what's coming to them, filthy rebels that they are.

Then one of the bad guys shouts out to the crowd, ' Who wants to save this woman?'

It seems I may have a chance.  I think to myself, this isn't it, you're going to live.  I wait. I don't have to wait for long. Dozens of arms lift into the air- they're all men! One face in particular catches my eye, someone I know. I am safe from execution.

I am overwhelmed. I look around and there are so many people who want me to stay alive.

I awaken and think this is it, you're going to live!

So I wake up, have breakfast- a rarity- and then dance till I can't dance anymore. I go out, return a dress I bought yesterday that doesn't fit and buy a shirt I won't know will fit until I try it later. Then browsing in the bookshop for a book, the title of one book catches my attention- 10,000 dreams interpreted. I remember the dream and think and think what the hell, take a peak, not my usual kind of curiosity but just what does execution mean.

I flick through the Es and there it is-  execution. First line says if you're facing execution in a dream and you do get executed, something big and bad is gonna getcha. Second line says if you're saved from an execution it means your enemies will be defeated and you will gain great wealth soon.

BRING IT ON!!!