Dreams And Adventures
I keep having these strange dreams.
Last night I was in The Netherlands and I was standing on top of a 950m mountain. I was being punished by a god who looked eerily like Jan Verhaas from BBC Snooker, for slander. This was hell and it was this god’s will to make me stand on ever increasingly tall mountains and to push me off them. Once I was dead I was put on top of a 951m tall mountain and so on.
My greatest fear is heights.
I get anxiety dreams a lot. My mountain dream was followed up last night by one where I totally fucked up London 2 Brighton and then went into hiding. My worst recent anxiety dream involved me becoming an underclass Bear Grylls. Instead of helping celebrities survive in a forest, my show focused awkwardly on showing Z-list celebrities how to jog through industrial town centres, decimated high streets and the urban sprawl.
Foraging in Greggs and old petrol station forecourts for sustenance. Rather than it being an uplifting and inspiring television experience, mine was clumsy, cringeworthy and it just ended with me running away from the celeb.
I’d prefer to have dreamless sleep.
I’m hoping that Land’s End to John O’Groats is the start of adventures for myself.
I want to run down Portugal and across to Spain and keep on going. I want my holidays to be like this from now on. Not like this.
5 years ago today I was in Benidorm. Socialising by arguing with people in bars. Living the high life. Waking up with horrible holiday ring sting where it felt like I was being bitten in the sphincter by a snake. By the time the holiday was finished I’d need another holiday as the hangover would only strike on the plane home.
I’d never have anything to show from breaks. I’d come back fatter, poorer and with some awful black-out experience to add to my mental archive of failure. An experience that would make me wince in the night out of embarrassment.
Now I’m trying to attract positive experiences into my life so that all the ugliness is drowned out.
I am only compelled to make the same mistakes over and over again if I don’t learn the lessons from the past. Not drinking today gives me space to breathe. Time heals as long as I don’t cause more damage. This involves sitting through some mild discomfort that’s generated by an overactive mind. The boredom makes me seek a release but the release makes boredom which makes me seek a release.
I am not broken.
A broken society tries to make it seem like you are broken and it will always try to sell you the cure.
Alcohol, drugs, religion, medication and therapy. We’re at the mercy of our own minds and our minds are merely echo chambers parroting the corporate line that keeps us trapped. Feeling ugly? Maybe it’s Maybeline. Hungry? You’ll be fucking loving it.
The end goal is to make you feel alienated enough to buy that little something to bring you back in.