8th August 

8th August,

Peculiar as it may seem, I am grateful to be dreaming of being socially inept and incompetent in large public buildings. A hotel perhaps, or a department store. The lighting is dim. Very little natural light. There is a definite maze like experience going on in my thoughts in my head in my dream. It is a dream, close to the border of nightmare, but not; 

Thankfully the terrifying water themed dreams have gradually ebbed from the shore of my sleeping psyche. Being trapped in a concrete maze is grateful relief in comparison to the inevitable death by drowning in previous nocturnal adventures.

I thank God for these small mercies.

I am with an older distant male relative who seems to have a purpose for coming to this odd venue. There are a lot of people around and there is an air of expectancy. 

I search the dark walls and wallpaper for exits. I can see none under the amber glow of light and bustling social activity.

An auction or sale.

I need the loo. Yes, those foreboding loo dreams. Needing to urinate or defecate in an overcrowded place. An inevitable long queue, filled with awkward and embarrassed and uncomfortable people. Myself included. Public conveniences are not that convenient, especially in a dream where there is no way out.

I am in the queue forever. Long enough for my relative to have disappeared into the dark and amber recesses of this sinister department store.

I lurk around. Trying to inconspicuously slip down a badly lit staircase that either I can not find or does not exist.

Instead I find a relatively quiet seat. Burgundy velour upholstery. A wood table in front of me under which I place my legs. I observe the scene of darkness ahead of me and other than an intuitive knowing that there are fewer people in the building, I can see only the yellow glow of the ladies toilets. Urine yellow to be precise, shining apologetically into the dark, black maze.

I am grateful to be sitting. Grateful to feel unease. The unease of being trapped in a strange place with strange people is much more of an attractive prospect than the gasping and the swallowing involved in the drowning process.

I am grateful for being uncomfortably alive.

But only just.

Only just grateful.

And only just alive.


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