Monthly Archives: July 2014

A dream of those I knew in the past


I awoke on 11 July after insomnia. This was my dream. Jenny H was there in the dream. She had been my muse at Univ but she never cared for me. She had just recieved her D Phil in the dream tough I did not see the cereneomy. I said I wsed I could see her in her robes with her lingerie beneath.  I once saw her in an American musicla like west side story weainr fjust her silks. She moved frmom behind. The place seemed beige. Later I was in bed with Hanna whom I knew in 2008 but never touched – not even a handhsla.e But she seemd liked an Oxford girl tyoo. She said i  I would dot eh laundry she would amost let me bone her. I went and did it and then came back. She said she would not do the busines siwht me. I felt cheated anc omplained I said I could rape her but never would. She said she could tell a lot of people who I had jyst said, She has blackguarded me before I I still dtest her for it. 

A dream of being trapped


I had a large flat. It was very comfortable. I walked outside in the day time. t was neither sunny nor gloomy. There was  ahuge pool on several levesl cascading down. It was not mine alone but shared with others. I saw people disporting themselve sin this azure pool.They were white people only I saw – men and women. 

I was on the far side of the pool when I saw some young men on the blacony of my flat. They shoted mocking things to me – not too disoblifing. The jumped from the balcony into the pool a few meteres below. It was dangerous but these high spirted youths did not get hurt. It was not on that they should enter my fkat without my say so but I was not too perturbed by this transgression. Later I was back in my flat. A group fo school children trooped through. They were all about 10 years old. Wjat were they doing suddenly walking through? I spoke to some of them briefly but they hardly engaged with e. They went out another door – not the front door. I had not realised that is connected to another building. Later I wa sin touch with AMini. There was all sorts of confusion aboit whether I could leave for Christmas. Where would he be? He wuld be taking his children somewhere fr  few days. There were conflicitng messages. I can never get that voicemail out of my head – wher ein the hell are you. I was a scary time but exhilirating to pull one over on him and humiliate this chap who thought he wa susch a sophisticate. Looking back on it – it may have been a misjudgment on y part. I have thought os speaking to the agency again to see if tey will use me. Ayhow. Then I found myself in Nigel’s place. I was in a state of total confusion. I had a flight at 2 in the arvo and it was almost that time already. How had I cme to be back working for Amini a second year in a row? This dream reflect my unvertainty about my future. But really I am in a good place with many options. The night before I had a dream about a heated argument with this woman here. She wants me to spend money on her and I do already but am not getting her bags and shoes. I lost my temper wth her in the rveery. I think I need to stand my ground more and jyst say no.But really she is agreeable and this relationship is symbiotic.  

Montenegro – travel writing.


It was 2006. I crossed the border from Croatia into Montenegro by bus. I was low on reading material and my Lonely Planet guide to Eastern Europe was particularly well thumbed. I was beginning to reflect – why am I doing this to myself? Why do I force myself to go to not particularly attractive places and to keep moving? Why not find some place pleasant and spend time there? I had wanderlust but my idiotic point scoring drove me on. It is hard to figure out if this motivation was internal or external.

We drove with the mountains rising very abruptly to our left and the sea our right. The traffic nudged forward slowly. The one road was clogged. I was in a ratty mood and desperate to be off the bus. The craggy landscape and olive green bushes were appealing in an unusual way but I was not minded to appreciate them. We passed through the ancient Montenegrin town of Kotor but I was blind to its charms. I was to revisit it 7 years later. I never anticipated that. 

Towards evening my journey ended. 

I came to the small town of Ulcinj – pronounced ”Ool  tsin y(u)”.  This is the last town in Montenegro before Albania.  checked into a small hotel by the road that tapered out of town. The hotel was mostly white and bland. It was as though the place was all made of formica. The whey faced youth behind the desk checked me in. I went to my bedroom upstairs and lay doggo for a few minutes. I was scunnered from the bum numbing journey. Why do I do this to myself? I subjected myself to endless journeys. It was passport stamp collecting. I realised that the last thing I needed to do was spend more time on my spine. I got up after a brief while and headed out into the April evening. The town had no tall buildings and was not ugly looking. There was open country not far from the hotel but I was headed into town. Not many vehicles rumbled by. The land was dun and undulating with odd tufts of grass. I saw a memorial at a T junction. The words were inscribed in misspelt English and in Albanian  – I could not tell whether this was misspelt or otherwise. It was about all those Kosovar Albanian refugees who had fled her ein 1999. But we were in Montenegro. The Montenegrins were much the same people as the Serbs. I walked to the right of the memorial and along the main drag. Very few people were abroad. I turned left as the road curved that way and brought me down to a tranquil little harbour. The Adriatic lapped at the painted wooden boats. The smell of the brine was blithe. Soon I went for dinner.

 I ate in a pokey upstairs restaurant. The waiter was a slender man in his 30s. He had short brown hair and was clea shaven. He spoke superb English. He told me that although this town was in Montenegro almost everyone here was of the Albanian ethnicity. I read up on it later. It had been seized from Albania in one of the Balkan Wars about 1913. That explains it then. I voiced my frustration at not being able to spend Serb dinars here which was very strange in view of the fact that Serbia and Montenegro were united – that was the situation at the time. He told me in the 1990s they had had horrific prpblems woth Serb dinars due to hyperinflation and no one had been willing to accept that currency. So they had change to using deutshcmarks. Not that the deutschmark has been binned they had uniltaterally joined the Eurozone. 

After a decent nosh I strode along the dusty street back to my hosteliery. The hotelier arranged a pick up for me by a bus driver next morning. 

I was up around dawn and had a quick brekker. Outside the hotel I waited for the minibus. There I met a short Albanian chap with a swart complexion. He boasted a denim jacket and matching jeans. I cannot which language we began out conversation in but soon we were speaking German. He had worked in Switzerland. He inquired if I spoke French. I replied that I did, ”meuilleure que allemand.” So we switched to French.

 I am not sure how it came up but he treated me to his religious convictions. ”Je ne crois pas en dieu.”

”Tu ne croit pas en Dieu?” he repeated in astonishment.

”Mais qui a fait tu ca?” he philosophised? ”La Terre, le ciel, le fleuves et tout que a beau?”

”Je ne sais pas mais je suis pas convaincu par le evidence pour dieu.”

He continued this religious disaolgue with the unbeliever for some time. Then a beaten up white minibus whizzed up to the hotel and in we got. The driver has a beard like Osama and wore a thobe. It was very unusual to see in Europe. I boarded the minibus and we sped along the road that wound around the khaki countryside. We came around a sharp bend and up to a border post. I do not remember any formalities at the Montenegrin side but there were at the Albanian side.

Black uniformed Albanian border guards strutted about as though they were doing the most important job in the world. They were all diminutive. I had to fill out a form. The border guard looked at my passport and then searched on a list for how much I had to pay as an Irishman. Was it 10 Euros? It was something of that order. But perhaps it was dollars. ANyway – it was in a currency I did not have. I told him I did not have it. I was quite clam about the situation. He said unless I paid I would not be allowed in. I shrugged. I was genuinely unconcerned. If it came to it I could geta  bus going in the opposite direction or even yomp the few miles back to Ulcinj. Given was Albania was like that would have been a good option. The driver said ”wie kanst du essen in Albanien ohne Geld?” I replied, ”Ich kann Geld aus dem Banomat nehmen.”

He offered to pay and I would repay him once in Albania.  I agreed and negotiated some sort of exhange rate in Leke. In case you did niot know that was the currency of Albania. He put his meaty hand into the side pocket of his thobe and fished around for a banknote. The deed was done.

Off we spend into Albania. The quality of the road declined markedly. I saw some concrete bunkers on the hillsides. There was a large lake. We entered the city of Shkodra. This is just inside Albania. I first heard of it in about 1992 when Albania finally threw off the Communist yoke. It is a remarkable dispiriting place. The grubby streets are lined with countless drab buildings and cracked pavements. The people are of similarly morose aspect. 

I got off the bus station and withdrew some money from an ATM.


The downing of the Malaysia Airlines plane over the Ukraine.


The plot thickens. A week ago a Malayia Airlines jet was shot down over the Ukraine and 298 people perished. Most governments blame pro-Russian insurgents. The Kremlin points the finger at the Ukrainian military. We may ask – cui bono? ”Who benefits?” does not necessarily demonstrate that the beneficiary of a crime was behind it. People act irrationally in many cases.

I go with the cockup theory rather than the conspiracy theory. Malaysia is not a partisan of any side in this conflict. Most of the passengers were Dutch. The Netherlands has been sympathetic to the Ukrainian Government but not so much so as to make such a repsonse sensible even for someone who was utterly devoid of morals.

Videos of pro-Russian militiamen celebrating their downing of an aircraft were poste don the interent. Some pro-Moscow rebels wrote on social media that they had shot an enemy plane out of the sky. There were intercepts of pro-Moscow fighters saying they had shot down a plane only to discover it was a civilian one. This evidence could be a hoax but I doubt it.

It could be a false flag operation – that is to say the Ukrainian military shot down the plane so as to lay the blame at the door of their enemies. This is a high risk strategy. The Ukraine already has the sympathy of the non-authoritarian world. The authoritarian countries will be pro-Russian almost no matter what in this dispute.

The pro-Russian insurgents shot down two enemy aircraft the day before this tragedy. They thought they were on a roll. They got carried away and did not verify that this really was an enemy plane.

In fact whoever shot down this plane should not change our view of the conflict. I am mildly inclined towards the Ukrainian Government in this duispute. But even if I were to discover that Kiev shot down this aircraft that would not change my opinion. That would not make Russian support for the secessionists a good thing.

I recognise that separatist sentiment is genuine and widespread in some cities. The Ukrainian Government is not purer than pure. Many civilians have been killed by the Ukrainian Army around Lushansk – a fact that is nary reported in the Western media. Some of the adherents of Kiev are unapologetic Nazis. Yet they had nothing to gain by destorying this jet. Likewise the Russian Government and her partisans in the Ukraine did not stand to benefit from this horrific act. Things were going their way anyway. Moscow seemed to want to end the conflict and not escalate it.

Dreams of recent weeks.


On the plane back from the Far East I dreamt of Kehinde. We were nude in bed. Her boobs wer emuch bigger than in real life. I wondered if she had had them augmented. She strenuously denied it. I think this came from reading Jane Fonda’s book and her comments on boob jobs. I wanted to know what time it was because we would land soon. In my dream I looked around for the clock. Of course I could have opened my eyes and turne don the scrneee in front my my plane seat.


In a dream in Singapre Andre Nel had taken over a school in Russia. Katya also taught there. I have been thinking of trying to ge tin touchw ith her again. I wonder where Nelephant is going. We were in a van going to schoold down a muddy street and across some very flat land. I fancied my female colleagyes.


In another dream 4 young women offered themselves to me. Dream o! Well it wa a dream. Emma S was one of them. I do not recall the others.


Dreams of the past week.


I dreamt of Johnnie cycling over a road bridge in Milan. I was jogging beside him and he was happy/ But then he fell off. I picked him up. He was distressed by his tumble. He urgently needed a dump and had to do it on the street.


I have dreamt of looking at prostitutes a lot and asking their prices. They were always white women. I asked about oral


I saw four naked girls all in the early 20s. They were all white and fairly nubile – slender. I was able to pick one. I did not look at their faces.


I was naked in bed with Hana. She was also in the buff. I have not seen her since 2008. She said if I went and got her something from the shop she might let me bone her. I said I would go and buy it. Before I went she chamged her mind. She had onyl said she MIGHTlet me do her. I quipped that I could easily rape her. She did not like this and said she would make sure many people knew of this joke.

Dreams in recent days – insulating a Frenchwoman


I dreamt that I was speaking to Michael Douglas sveral night ago. Why did he come up? Maybe because I watched a clip of Liberace – not the film but of the real man arrivin by limusine on stage in Las Vegas in 1981.

I also had a dream about Cliff Rochard. I am unsure why.

I dreamt about doing coemdy on stage. It was going reasonably well. There was a Frenchwoman in the audiaence. HSe was in ehr 30s and had short hair. She was a brunette. I was insulting her. She resnted it but did not hit back. This is odd because when i did comedy for real I did not slag off the audience.