Archive for July, 2009

Ray Bradbury

Posted in Dreams on 26 July 2009 by nicholasroyle

In London. In an unfamiliar part of the city with Ros S. There’s a big old building on our left. There’s a statue or bust – of Ray Bradbury. We go to a house. A small part of it – an upper room or part of a staircase – is mine, but a snowdrift has collected along a skirting board, despite its not being cold outside. People in the house are trying to deal with the snow. I feel homeless. (25/07/09)

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In a room somewhere

Posted in Dreams on 26 July 2009 by nicholasroyle

With friend and fellow writer Tom Fletcher. In a room somewhere. There are two realities. The real reality and the book reality. I keep being excluded from either one or the other – I don’t know which. It’s very stressful and nightmarish. (24/07/09)

King and Queen of Pop

Posted in Dreams on 22 July 2009 by nicholasroyle

I was imagining severing certain relationships. Including one with a recording duo calling themselves the King and Queen of Pop. I was staring at their profile picture on Facebook. (21/07/09)

Low cloud

Posted in Dreams on 22 July 2009 by nicholasroyle

Walking down a road somewhere in the countryside. The clouds are very low. So low in fact that I can reach up and touch them. I take a big handful. It’s malleable, like a cross between snow and candy floss. I shape it in my hands. (19/07/09)

White coat

Posted in Dreams on 22 July 2009 by nicholasroyle

I submit to a psychological/psychiatric test in a room that takes a long time to get to in an old building with lots of stairs and corridors. I hadn’t necessarily committed to this before I get there, but once in the room I decide to do it. On one side of the room there’s a pan of water heating up that I sense will be used for some kind of test, though I can’t imagine what. On the other side, something more traditional, though I can’t remember what that is either. The male doctor is wearing a white coat and there’s at least one woman in the room as well.

After we have been using the conventional equipment for a while, I sense that it’s time to turn to the simmering water, which has now turned into a shimmering computer screen. It seems to be showing an image from a CCTV camera and I wonder if the doctor has access to CCTV cameras to show me what I’ve been up to outside in the town before entering the building. I try to remember what I did get up to. Nothing untoward, I don’t think.

I enter a hairdresser’s shop. I know some of the barbers who work here, but none is present today. Nevertheless, I issue a breezy, confident greeting and walk straight through the salon and out the back to the rear of the building.

Earlier, I’d been outside somewhere in an empty, flat northern landscape, possibly playing some kind of game. There had been two small rainbows in the sky, but alongside each other, not one within the other. (17/07/09)

Krishnan Guru-Murthy

Posted in Dreams on 17 July 2009 by nicholasroyle

Krishnan Guru-Murthy, the Channel 4 newsreader, is a GP in a local practice and he is being very unsympathetic to me, not taking my health concerns at all seriously and being rude and unreasonable. I think that I will lodge a complaint against him.

Later, I’m considering entering his flat, which is in a block of serviced apartments. A caretaker is offering to let me in. Outside his flat is a load of stuff on the floor including Nazi memorabilia. I decide against going in. (16/07/09)

Fetish anthology

Posted in Dreams on 12 July 2009 by nicholasroyle

On a railway station, a policeman wants to talk to me. I’m extremely open and friendly with him. I know I’ve done nothing wrong. He wants to talk to Chris Kenworthy, too. I’m happy to put him in touch with Chris, confident that he’ll have nothing to hide either. He’ll never come here, I say, but he’ll talk to you.

Shortly after, Chris is there. For some reason, looking at Chris, I picture the cover of the Fetish anthology edited by John Yau. Maybe the jacket photo is reproduced on Chris’s T-shirt or something.

Later, walking into a magazine editorial office. Looking forward to a day’s work. I pass the editor’s desk and reach my own, where I dump my bag. It’s all a bit old fashioned. Big paper proofs everywhere. (11/07/09)