Bristol February 28th

Woke from a real swirl of dreams. A heavy lushness. I was so wrapped up in it I took the dreams with me, my eyes closed as I felt my way round the L bend of the corridor to the toilet clinging onto that other place like holding onto a hot water bottle in a cold bed.

There was no desire, not like in countless other dreams, just a heavy nostalgia. I was walking with other students along an unknown space of grass with a lake cutrained by trees. Others walked ahead of us quietly chatting and in the distance a group had started to jump into the lake.

I was with a friend – a real friend, crazy H, my younger stepsister. Again we were swimming in a pool. There was noone else there and I was taking the piss out of her for always planning so far ahead.

The warmth of the glow stays with me as I lie in the darkness replaying the scenes over and over listening to the radiator clicking. I felt the confidence that comes with the first realisation that people liked something about me, that I could hold people’s attention.

Is it human nature that we don’t see ourselves as other people see us or is it just me?

I went back to sleep.

When I woke, I still felt golden although the glow was growing weaker. I forced myself to lay in bed and think only of dreams. Nothing about the day ahead.

Outside 2 magpies jump about on the old garage roof picking off bright green domes of moss and flinging them into the air. I can hear the urgent buzz of chainsaws somewhere and the ever present plaintive cry of seagulls.

On the radio, a local DJ is interviewing young people who are going to listen today to Greta Thunberg at College Green. 25000 are expected. It will be a roadblock.

I look at my mobile phone. The thoughts and images and beautiful absence are chased away. My day begins.

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