I've been writing my dreams down. I have noticed a few things, mostly that it really annoys me when my handwriting looks like shit, which it does when I first wake up. I don't believe that you can analyse your dreams to a large extent, or that dreaming of pooping brings you money (even if it's true for my mam) but there must be correlation between what you consciously think and feel and what your silly head comes up with when you're snoozing. Recently I have been dreaming of looking after a young girl. This girl is either my own baby (who in the vast majority of these dreams rejects me entirely as a mother) or my cousin, Allisia. She's sixteen (or seventeen, shit!) but I haven't seen her so much in recent years, and so I always think of her as eight or something. I don't have any children, I promise, and it's a fucking miracle if I'm pregnant. I don't even want kids. Well, I don't want to have to think about it right now. But then there was always that feeling that I'd have a kid in my early twenties. I don't like getting feelings about things, because I am always right. Gross.
I want to finish my zine, but I think I am too dumb. There is a show at the Punkalow tonight.