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Dreams

Before I forget...

My dreams have been intense of late.

Last night I dreamt I was in Yugoslavia back in my flat and there were bombs and planes again flying low and fire and ash fell about like rain. Those dreams always twist at me with their realism, because I was there, in the burning city night after night and my mind still goes back into it sometimes. And through the barred taped windows I can see the planes and there is always that half moment of terror of *where can I go now*, and when the explosions start my fear ebbs because there is that curious resignation, if it is over, it is over, this is way more powerful than I am, and there is nowhere I can go to protect myself, nowehre to hide.

And in the second part of the dream all sorts of people from England had been transported to Yugoslavia, including my therapist and most of my friends and they seemed to be playing football of all things, while I was dodging a man who was attempting to seduce me by ducking back into my house and trying to shut the door in his face, and there is a feeling of unease and threat because the elevator is fucked up and takes me to the wrong floor, and my building aquires dead ends and new corridors and I am lost and can't make sense of it, can't find my way out, before I remember it is a dream.

In the third dream, the one nearest to morning I am in Montenegro. I am in my house, with some other people my grandmother and a few strangers, and outside the house on the field a weird and violent rodeo is taking place. There is a herd of untamed horses getting agitated by having people throwing themselves on them and hanging off thier necks and heads and the horses are going insane, and I decide I can't watch anymore because I knwo they are going to break loose and trample the world and suddenly someone comes running shouting, get into the house quickly because the horses have broken loose and I can hear the thunder of their hooves. I am doing the best I can to lock myself in, but the side door to the house has disintegrated, the wood is useless from the rain and it falls off its hinges and comes apart in my hands. The best I can do is barricade the entrance with some furniture and try and lock myself into the only room with a door left in the house, in this case my grandmother's room which used to be my room when I was a chil.d

And as I am trying to wedge the door shut, I can see the horse rearing in front of the house, he is magnificent and smooth and dangerous as a blade, the colour of jet and moonless night. THe horse has quite clearly had enough and I can see its fury. The horse is rearing and stamping and tearing the main door to shreds and I am afraid if I find my way in the path of its hooves it will surely trample me too.

Part of me is saying that I should not be afraid of horses but at the same time the rest of me is pointing out that a horse is way taller than me, it has two sets of extremely sharp hooves, more fury than a woman scorned and some big motherfucking teeth and it rears and stamps and rages like a mad thing.

Then the alarm went off

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rainsinger
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