Surealism

Activity A - Rocks and Radioactivity

6.16am. Just woken up. I had a slightly strange night, with lots of peculiar jumbled-up dreams. Our group tutor David Bard was in my dream, and in it he played a rather manic charicature of himself. There was a group of us standing outside in some kind of park, listening to someone giving a lecture about something. David pointed at me with a biro in his hand, saying, words to the effect of "Good God, it's you, I remember you from years ago when you were here full-time as an undergraduate, I have a complaint to make about you!"

I appeared to recognise him as my former personal tutor Neville from when I was at brick uni, whereupon I started to become rather agitated also (poor Neville was nothing like this in real life, he was a gentleman and a scholar).

David's vigorous and energetic pen-pointing whilst not looking where the pen was going resulted in the pen-top coming off and the pen drawing on my face. Most indignant I ran up to the tutor giving the lecture in the park, and said, "I want to make a complaint about him", whereupon David Bard also ran up and said, "Oh no you don't! Not before he's heard the complaint I'm making about you!"

My first partner Chris also seemed to turn up out of the blue, and there seemed to be accompanying music in the form of the Tina Turner theme song to the movie Mad Max. Strained partial reconciliation-type conversations ensued to the extent that he and I were able to shake hands and talk awkwardly about what our lives were like now. I remember the two of us walking away from the park, and we were having a conversation about how Chris's brother Steve didn't really get on with me, and about how in return I didn't really give him a chance to change his views once it became clear that he didn't like me..... all horribly awkward and uncomfortable, with buried remant feelings on both sides of being hard done by resurrected alongside my horribly English natural tendancy to want to be at least polite to someone who is standing right in front of me... as I said, all sorts of jumbled-up crap that defies proper explanation. The overriding feeling that all these dream elements leave me with is that it was a fairly nicely developed anxiety/inadequacy sort of dream.

Sleeping with the window closed last night was definitely a good move. Whilst I can hear the gulls more loudly now that I have opened the curtains and the window, I do not recall them disturbing me in the night. I am however again listening to a large white Veolia refuse lorry emptying large wheelie bins.

I again feel in need of something of a lie-in. I had considered taking one of the leaflets that came in the conference delegate style pack with a map and list of suggested walks. I think however I am instead going to conserve my strength and lie here a little while longer.