I'm listening to: The Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Gold Lion

"The train on this platform goes to Bangladesh. We should be on the other one instead."

"Oh okay, you lead and I'll follow."

They make their way across the uneven grey granite tiles, away from the huge steel doorframes filled with glass, all the way to the corner of the building. There, they exit through a door covered with peeling and discoloured, once-white paint into the top level of an ancient, circular stairwell in the open air, where the mid-afternoon sun emanates a seemingly nebulous glow from its interaction with the zillions of dust particles suspended in the hot air. The wooden railings that line the sides of the stairs are rough and cracked on the surface with the same old paint as the door.

After descending the stairs, amidst the chaotic traffic and exhaust fumes that greet them, they look around expectantly.



I know it makes no sense whatsoever, I'm still trying to figure out what it means, but if you laughed, I know which line made you do that.

It's a little unsettling sometimes when real-life events trigger memories of dream events, especially when they're from so long ago and so trivial that you think you should've forgotten them completely AND they're flashbulb ones. How significant are dreams, really; does anyone really know? I shouldn't be clueless given the research I did on dream interpretation for my paper last year, but I don't have a straight answer either. I don't quite subscribe to Revonsuo's Threat Simulation Theory, but I kinda buy Jung and, to a lesser extent, Freud. I'll probably find out a bit more when I'm very free.

I have a rather useless Teach Yourself: Dream Interpretation book that I bought for research sitting in front of me right now. Bleargh, it's so ironic.



On the way home, this car hears my confessions;
I think tonight I'll take the long way.