I’m starting to dream the person I am.

It’ll take some time, but I’ll catch up with my person.

Everyone is busy.  Let them be.


I had a dream once where I was running, carrying a burning handbag.

I couldn’t do what someone wanted me to do because I had to put out the burning bag first.

I said this.

I know what this dream means, now.


I know someone who is dealing with her problems as I was, long ago.

If she doesn’t put aside that stick she’ll never walk.

Although, I am reading my problems into hers.

There is the woman, also, with the ugly small dog who lives in a house behind neck-high wooden fences on the other side of that road into the village.

She can positively run from her house if she sees you – across a garden – desperate to see someone.

Her forehead is low, in a manner that foreheads are sometimes described – it is one of the salient features of her – her hair is well-oiled – I’m not sure what she puts on it.

She is a kind lady, would help me if I was in need and went to her door, and knocked, and asked.

But she is also desperate for herself.

So many lonely people.

There is her on that side of the road, the awful woman walking her two dogs, with her hot hip, on the other side.  I can’t avoid them both.  I can’t cross over the road to avoid one and run clap-bang into another.

I must be able to deal with these people – not today, I can’t stop today – hip okay? – yes or no – is that your dog, that small, ugly one?  I thought at first you were looking after it for someone.

It seems to be small dogs that get me most.

I won’t mention the woman, further up the road, who has two large graceful dogs that do not bother me at all when I meet them, and her.

One of the dogs I knew in my extreme youth was a big black Labrador.



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