i fell asleep on the sofa and i had a dream! again! of matt hales! sort of. so:

this has everything to do with this archaeological program my parents were watching. its somewhere in latin america (i remember hearing spanish) and i think in the dream i was in one of those random spanish lessons that had nothing to do with the language. there were crocodiles too, but that�s just my crazy subconscious. i say i was in school because i remember seeing lucy on that little passage bit between the classics and biology corridors outside the locker block. she had very shiny hair.

in dreamverse, there is some island off some coast somewhere in latin america. its really small, uninhabited. there are some palm trees. (how contrived, but i have dream licence so, continue:) underneath are very, very old mummies, which archaeologists only discovered recently, recently being several decades ago. then it became a big tourist attraction, because there are these sand pillars and columns, which resemble those lame structures they build on garden programs over a patio so plants can climb all over them. the archaeologists reburied the site later so no-one could take mummies out of it.

here�s where the exchange part comes in. i always dream of exchanges because its the sneaky way with which my subconscious weaves other people into my school environment. i know that they are exchange students as they do not talk to us, only among themselves, and everyone is paired off with someone. (including you, ticca-with-a-small-�t�.)

at first my exchange was more of an andrew type, less cool, lighter coloured hair than matt hales, but he morphed. now that i think about it, no-one really talked in my dream except the tv, which was an omnipresent voice. i did talk to non-andrew once. we were on this bridge/balcony/passage way overlooking a model of the island. you had to get there through a closed, dark, schmuck baity building, and i wanted to get back down but was scared, so i asked �andrew� to go with me.

this is where he morphed into matt hales. except he was short (even andrew is supposed to be quite tall, i think) and i never saw his face. but he sort of pursued this also-faceless kim oliver (mrs hales) figure by running out of the entire establishment (which is huge, great wall of china epic, passages-leading-to-passages place), which worked for me. i was lagging behind, thinking about �strange and beautiful�: �i�ve been watching your world from afar/i�ve been trying to be where you are... to me, you�re strange and you�re beautiful/you�d be so perfect with me but you just can�t see/you turn every head but you don�t see me...� perfect stalker song, n�est ce pas?

i finally caught up with him and drifting back into consciousness, he asked me to ask kim whether he was a joke when someone asked him to played the guitar (heh?) in some place a few years ago. and something about coke.

i sent off for the 45s DVD today, so soon i will have my very own moving image of matt hales. with sound! bwahahaha!

<< my subconscious. >>

th since 5th october 2001