Posts Tagged ‘talking’

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dream: apocalypse rob.

September 18, 2009

This dream is a masterclass in me.

The first thing that I remember is being at lunch in a fancy restaurant, ordering French pastries with Charlotte from Sex and the City.  We were discussing relationships and sex, and about whether I was a failure for not having gotten married yet.  Charlotte was as lovely and reassuring as she is on the tv programme, and I remember as I took bites out of my French cake (strawberry – which I normally don’t like), she told me that I was young and that there was plenty of time to fall in love.  We sprayed each other with the new Prada fragrance, L’eau Ambrée, and it was delicious.

I left the restaurant and Charlotte, and met up with Rob (the Romanian) and we went back to my place (I had a very white apartment) where we sat on the bed and were talking and flirting for ages.  (I am wearing my Opium Pour Homme today as I type this as a result) At one point I was so tempted to kiss him, but I couldn’t do it because he had/has a boyfriend and that would not really be ethical.  I reached out and stroked his face, and he nuzzled into it while saying “You know that I can’t do that”.  The tension mounted and I kept my hand against his cheek, but eventually the moment passed and I had to go.

The next thing I know, I was walking along the edge of a bayou (!!!) and I came to a big wooden Colonial-style house with lots of people crowded around on the veranda.  I mingled with the crowd, looking for Rob and it transpired that his family owned the house.  There was a raft on the river of the bayou, ready to “set sail”, and I tried to get Rob to go on it with me and we could go down the river together.  However, once I sat on the raft I discovered that his sister was going to use the raft with me, and she was a prostitute.  She got on the raft, along with a couple of other guys, and Rob disappeared and we started to drift upstream, towards the big white gates of the city.  The gates opened, and after some forgettable conversation, I got off the raft and left Rob’s sister and her guys to it.  I walked along the street and went back to my apartment.  The whole city looked as if it had been whitewashed, and it was ominously pristine and futuristic.

I went into my apartment block, and suddenly a siren sounded and the dean from St. Anne’s College at Oxford University, Martin Jackson, came thundering down the stairs and informed me that we were on ‘high alert’.  He told me to follow him up the stairs to a safe part of the building, and I had no choice but to do so.  He led me to an isolated part of the apartment block on the top floor, where all of the doors were sliding and gleaming white, with no handles or anything – they seemed to open and close of their own accord, as if they could see us coming.

Once I arrived on the top floor, I found out that the country / world was on ‘high alert’, because the Chinese had massive guns that they were using to shoot down all the other countries.  (Dreams are not logical.)  Although we were trying to fight back with our own guns, our guns were not as big and therefore we were almost certain to lose, and the world was due to descend into warfare and possibly the end of the world.  So that was why it was important to take refuge now, before it was too late.  In the top floor of the apartment building, there was a hallway leading off to three rooms.  I chose to enter the room on the left, which was furnished largely in red velvet with chairs set up for an audience.  At the front of the room was a massive flat-screen television, and it appeared that we were supposed to be watching something.  I have no idea what was supposed to happen in the other two rooms, but I had the impression that it was something more sinister and that I had chosen well.

Little by little, the room began to fill up with people, including my friend Hannah, and also a girl from school called Hannah Drake.  Hannah found me and we were relieved that we were both safe.  Meanwhile, the screen began to show Street Fighter games for different gaming platforms (including the Playstation and the Sega Saturn; it was some weird hybrid of Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat).  Akuma from Street Fighter actually entered the room and sat himself down, all fiery red hair and glowing eyes, and finally the film began to start.  It was very abstract and didn’t explain much.  At one point, me and Hannah looked at each other and started giggling because it made no sense, but one of the old women seated behind us hushed us and told us to pay attention to the film as it was important.  I remember lots of cityscapes and white gleaming buildings, and that was it!

Anyone willing to psychoanalyse?  Sigmund Freud?

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no good advice.

July 26, 2009

I’ve always been someone to whom people have come to for advice, or to listen to their problems or whatever’s been going on with them.  As good as I am at talking (which is very!), I am a good listener and I try to keep a balanced perspective as much as is possible so I can evaluate people’s problems fairly and give the best support that I can.  And quite often, the best form of support isn’t advice where you tell them to do something specific, but rather where you just lay out their options in front of them, some possible scenarios of what might happen depending on what they choose to do, and then just leave it up to them.  That’s what I was trained to do in Peer Support and I fully stand by it.  Although I accept that sometimes people may know better than me, I try to listen to what people say and observe what is happening around me, and then choose whether to take certain pieces of advice or go my own way.

Nevertheless, in view of the rapidity with which my life appears to be falling apart and going the very opposite of whatever “according to plan” is, I don’t really feel that I’m the right person for people to come to for advice.  I feel hypocritical talking about relationships because my track record is pretty bad; I feel strange applying for a Careers Guidance course because if anyone could use some serious careers guidance, it is me!  But my friends assure me that I am “rational” and “have a sensible head on my shoulders”; I like to think they are right, and that I was brought up well and I’ve observed the world around me enough to know what is right and what is wrong (though the lines so often blur).  I think it stems from the fact that my advice works so well for other people, but when it comes my turn to take this advice, it’s so much more difficult… That, and the fact I seem to attract people who are batshit crazy (in a variety of ways!).

So I wanted to write this piece of advice down that I dispensed today… it goes against my usual strategy of “hard to get”, and it is an attempt to counteract the stressing of “what if” and strategising behind when to send texts and how many kisses to put at the end of them.  These things are important, but they haven’t gotten me anywhere… the only thing that’s been proved right (and all my friends proved wrong) lately is my paranoia!  So I want to make a record of this, in case it might help somebody, and hopefully I’ll learn to follow it too… :

Just do what you think is right, and do whatever is rational to you.  Men are so random and crazy, they can turn on and off at the flick of a switch, and disappear and reappear at will. So just be yourself, and don’t limit yourself to one of them until you’re sure they are at least temporarily committed to you.

It’s not a long piece of advice, but I imagine at certain moments I’ll find it a bitter pill to swallow. The job of my friends, and of you guys who are reading (hah, I bet you didn’t know you’d signed up for this!), is to make me swallow this pill when necessary… because the pill is, in reality, a vitamin.

(Thankyou to Nick and Hannah for making me blog this 🙂 – please give their blogs a visit, they’re both talented writers!)