I dreamt I was up at MAX, Storheden, Luleå, just beside COOP, the supermarket. I'm not sure where my parents were, but I had their handbags with me, and I was in some kind of booth with self-service automats through which I was to order my food, and didn't know where I should put those handbags.

So I kept them with me, and I ate my food, and then I hid them behind one of the self-service automats and went shopping.

Clever.

There weren't many other people at MAX though, and in my dream it didn't seem like a security risk at all, but I'm not sure what happened to those bags. Before I woke up they'd been forgotten.

I didn't shop anything either, I just waltzed around the store, made my way out, and back to MAX where I bought another burger. I didn't want to leave the handbags, and my parents still weren't around.

This time I had some company though! I don't recall what we chatted about, but I decided to take some photos through the window, at a city that now looked a lot like Budapest, but with the streets submersed in water. It was both a beautiful and a dystopian scene, like Venice, with the sunshine glistening off the rooftops as if they'd been sprayed by salt... but also lonely and desolate, with not a person in sight, and the city streets branched out endlessly against the horizon.

The resolution on the photo was a bit weird - stretched out, and I realized I'd been taking pictures in the wrong format. So I switched to a more wide-screen version and it was all good.

And that was the end of that part of the dream.

Handbag mystery included.

Loose ends in my dream.

Earlier on I was driving through the streets in Vice City, heading towards the airport with my parents. We were on a bus, and everything looked just like it does in the game... but we never made it to the airport. We kept circling about. We made our short airport trip as if in an endless loops, constantly going back to the starting point and taking the same route once again, as if the city was unrealistically small (which it is), and a real trip to the airport had to take longer.

I'm not sure if we ever made it to the airport, or what happened to the bags, or who my company was at MAX. That's where it all fades away, and I wake up late.

I have wasted some time in the past,
But I'm past wasting time.

My cousin's home sick. A common cold, I think.

I know this because we were going to go bowling yesterday, but apparently we weren't. Fortunately I called home and found out before I'd taken the detour it takes to get to the bowling alley, after multiple messages and emails without response.

But I'm kinda pissed off, David. So much so that I feel like telling the world about this. I imagine myself actually taking the blue subway line as planned, not reaching out about a potential bite before this particular event, and then just waiting there in growing aggravation and/or worry, calling again and again without response, before eventually giving up and heading home, oblivious as to the reason you weren't there.

Not that it's usually easy to reach you, but at least this time:
you could have left a message.

It's painful.

I think I had the same thing a few years ago. Bursitis, I thought it was.

I'm not sure what it was this time around, but whatever it was it wouldn't let me sleep at night. Could be it was the result of all too hard a bunk bed on the cruise to Turku, could be it was the very basic (also not soft) beds at the Chesscom Guesthouse earlier, but it could also be I've just somehow moved my hips in unnatural ways while I've walked, or put pressure on them the wrong way whilst lifting weights, or possibly just slept wrong.

I usually sleep on my side, my right side, but the past couple of weeks there have been nights where I haven't been able to sleep at all. Lying on my sides didn't work, lying on my stomach definitely didn't work (I realized after posting that this particular way of phrasing this might give the impression I'm fat - I'm not - it's just uncomfortable), but at the worst times just lying on my back didn't seem to work either. It felt like my leg wasn't attached to the rest of my body, like it was stretched out, like - I imagine - on the torture racks you see in old torture chambers.

I tried adding pillows, a sheepskin patch, and eventually a softer mattress, and taking arnica (wolf's bane, great for bruises), and essential oils, and finally it seems to be alright again. I can't move my leg carelessly or I'll get a jolt of pain, but I can sleep! And walk. And I can sit around doing nothing - which oddly enough was always the one position where the hip felt OK.

Do wonder what it is though, and what sparks it, and how to best prevent it from ever coming back - because it really ain't pleasant. For now I'm stretching, and sleeping on my back a bit more than I used to.

Somehow that just doesn't feel like a sleeping position. I'm not sure I ever slept on my back before these two weeks, but when you're just tired enough any position works okay.

So, don't be a hipstir now. Here's hoping the new week's left me all cured! Oh and my cold: it's pretty much gone. Hopefully the final traces fade away through the night too, and the new week starts alright/new.

I had a really strange dream today (a few days ago at the time of posting).

I stood on a balcony - one of those that runs along the side of a building, around the corner even - accompanied by a large amount of other people. There were people of all ages, men and women and children, and some of them were jumping beside the fence, trying to see over the edge of it.

The concrete floor swayed a bit, and I was wondering how long it would hold. There was a gap between the fence and the floor as well, and I worried that some might slip through this gap. The people looked to me for guidance, but I wasn't sure what to give them.

The building stood over a hill running parallel to our balcony, slanting down, and it was as if the ground made way for sand, and a desert dystopia further away. I'm not sure what was over the edge of the hill above us, but it may have been mountains. Jagged peaks and valleys.

Though it looked like a regular apartment building, and we were all dressed casually as well, it seemed more like a stronghold the way it was placed, and just recently we had stormed the building to take control.

I'm not sure how many of us died, but I'm sure there were many, and yet we all wanted to leave the place now. We were hanging around until I said otherwise, and I didn't know what to say.

I found a small puppy almost hanging over the edge between the fence and floor, towards the end of the balcony, and I drew it back in to keep it from falling out, flipping it over in the process, and suddenly it was a slice of grilled mackerel.

It was dead.

The mackerel broke into pieces as I flipped it, and a larger dog - or maybe it was a kid - eyed me suspiciously as I did this. He was hanging close to the edge too.

I decided it was time to leave, and so I stood up and spoke to the people. I don't remember what I said, but I remember it was an inspiring speech, that I felt bad about the dead mackerel, and that this is when I woke up.

Just another one of those dreams...

Here's another sixty! New and old. Some crude some gold. Enjoy the show.

Read on...