The dreamscape is an amazing place. Whether we be king or pauper we all spend about a third of our life in the land of dreams, the one place on earth where we are all equal. Unless you are one of those people with something wrong with their brain who can't dream. In which case you may want to stop reading this, as it's only going to make you feel jealous.
Money buys you nothing here. It is free entertainment and like most free entertainment it is fairly shoddy and the plots do not usually hang together, but still, you can't complain. It costs nothing.
And unlike most free entertainment, you can make it loads better and weirder by simply eating a load of cheese before you go in. Unless you are one of those people who has a bizarre halucenogenic reaction to cheese in which case this happens with cheese and all entertainment and also with just sitting around doing nothing. On the scale of having things wrong with you, being allergic to cheese is muchb better than being unable to dream. But what if you are both allergic to cheese and unable to dream?
I had a very strange and ultimately disturbing dream in the early hours of this morning. How I was unable to realise it was a dream is just one of those things that makes dreaming so great. In the dream I had had a baby. Not personally - I believe a woman had been involved, but if she took any part in the dream then I have forgotten. She had served her purpose, enabling me to pass my genes on to the next generation and was thus no longer important.
The baby had just been born; it was a girl. I held her in my hands and looked at her, feeling amazed that I had created life (with some almost negligible assistance from old whatever-her-name-was). I felt very proud and in love with this little thing and up to now that's a normal dream that possibly speaks of my anxiety that I haven't procreated as yet. All the things I was feeling were things that my fecund male friends had told me they felt when they saw their babies for the first time.
Then the dream got a little strange. Firstly the newborn baby seemed to be talking to me. It was all a bit indistinct, but I could make out definite phrases. I didn't want to make a big deal of it because I was conscious of just looking like one of those parents who bangs on about their kid being advance for its age. What an idiot! I had a talking baby. I was going to be a millionaire. But none of that crossed my stupid dreamscape mind.
Then another slightly smaller baby was brought in by the doctors and I was given the news that my baby had had a baby. You'd think that might have surprised me, but I took it all in my stride, though I think I was a bit taken aback that I'd have to bring up two kids, as my actual daughter was going to be a rubbish mother for the first few years at least.
You'd think that a baby having a baby might have been a tip off to me that something was awry here, but I didn't even question that this might not really be happening. Nor did I think about the rather horrific implications of such an event. How did the baby give birth? And how did she get pregnant in the first place? Was my baby the new virgin Mary and my grandchild the new Jesus? And how much money was having a talking baby that had had a baby going to be worth to me? More or less? Would the fact that the baby had already had a baby take some of the innocent fun away from it all and make people feel sick to their very stomachs?
More importantly what the Hell was making me have this insane and disturbing dream. I hadn't eaten any cheese for days. Admittedly I could logistically be a grandfather by now - if only anyone had found me sexually attractive enough to sleep with when I was a teenager - so was this dream telling me that I'd doubly missed the boat? I just hope dreams aren't actually portents of the future. I don't think I could cope with that as an actuality.
I woke up confused and upset. It had all seemed very real, despite being palpably ludicrous. I am sure it gives some telling insight into my disturbed mind, but I don't know what it is, beyond the fact that I am clearly mental. But maybe the dream analysts amongst you can make some sense of it, though to be honest, I'm not sure I want to know. My subconscious is imprisoned in flimsy chains and I don't want to help it escape.
Only a complete idiot would want to run a Marathon, and only a total fool would actually decide they were going to do it. Luckily webmaster Rob Sedgebeer is such a fool. He's doing the London Marathon this year. Where did he get that idea? Please visit his site via the link at the bottom of this page and read about the antics of him and his friend Nat. And sponsor them too. Without hobbit king Frodo Sedgebeer this site would not be here, so repay him by helping him reach his target.
