I’m A Dreamer.

4 Feb

I have plenty of stuff that I would really like to be talking about in this particular blog. Unfortunately, the time is not right to mention any of it.

You’ve no idea how frustrating it is, believe me.

Instead, you can have me wanging on about how much I’m talking myself out of getting a tattoo to commemorate the 27 Hour Show at the end of the month, after having a really stupid dream last night.

If I went ahead and took all of my dreams to heart, or rather, real life, I would have dealt with lava (as most young people tend to at some point or another), avoided demented murderous furries at a sports day, and been in more inappropriate relationships than I would care to admit.

I’d also probably not be here to talk about it, thanks to the handful of apocalyptic nightmares that have plagued me over the years.

To be fair, if I actually went ahead and got that tattoo, Mum would kill me anyway, so in theory, I suppose I’ve got another end of the world dream to add to the bank.


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