No future/no past

A particularly angelic photo that Lewis took the other day, when we were drinking in the gardens. 

A couple of nights ago at a house party, two girls that I am pretty much friendly acquaintances with came up to me and told me that they read this blog on a regular basis, and have it bookmarked on their computers. Whenever something like this happens I just feel so happy, and so fulfilled, and it means so much to me, that anyone would ever be interested in reading what I write. One of these girls said to me: 'I feel as if I know you!' and the truth is, she does. 

I write honestly here because I always think that no one except me reads what I publish. I think that silly delusion is a good thing, because it makes me completely comfortable with being totally honest with you, dear reader, as you deserve nothing less. Life is a shared experience, and we all go through things that someone else has been through before. If you find solace in my strangeness, insanity, nuances and love of love, then that's all I can ask for. 

In other news I've been thinking about dreams a lot lately. Lewis and I tell each other our dreams in that funny morning headspace, side by side in bed, and this morning I was recalling this dream where I had a little kitten under my care. It was adorable but I looked it up and apparently, to dream about kittens means your subconscious is nervous about a transition into independence. Who'dve thought it...

A year or so ago I wrote about the most frightening dream I've ever had. I still don't really know what it means, but here it is, if you care to interpret...

"So the world in my head ended last night. I watched as little specks of humanity crossed the darkened sky, throwing flaming balls of light and gas in an attempt to relight the sun, which had burnt out. I stood on the same hill that, in reality, my dog and I walked up yesterday in the moody but docile wintery weather. In typical disaster conditions people were standing with me, huddled in families, praying, screaming, shouting with false hope when the sun burnt bright for a second, then wailing as it faded into nothing as it became apparent that it really had died, and was not to be relit.

I knew that it was our fault that this had happened, that the sun had died and we were doomed. You know when you just KNOW things in dreams, and accept them - it was like that. I don't know how we did it, however I feel that it had something to do with something like climate change, definitely human-related.

Then I was driving with my parents in pitch black darkness, watching from the window of my car the same saga with the sun being relit, then burning out immediately, then being relit again. Knowing this was our last, final resort failing before my eyes."