Friday, July 30, 2010

Post Forty: Dream a little Dream of Shit Talk.






Do you reckon when you die, life is but a dream?

It has to be, because you wouldn't write that into row row row your boat for no reason, right? I think that I'm on to something. People don't lie to kids....

Imagine if, after death, you fell into an unending nightmare. That'd be bad luck.

I had a dream the other night that I was a radio show host. My co-host was Megan Washington. (In my opinion, Megan has the most beautiful speaking voice in Australia, so this dream was pretty much a fantasy). We were on-air in the mid afternoon and our show was called 'Shit Talk' or something like that. We basically interviewed Australian bands about their private philosophies on all sorts of shit like childhood memories and food experiences...it was the best dream I've had in 2010, and that's a big call. I dream like a schizophrenic (I imagine that's colourful?), and thus sleep is my best friend.
I've decided, if I meet Megan Washington one day and we get to talking about this dream, I'm going to propose to her that we start this Shit Talk thing. In my dream, we were interviewing Children Collide and they were rad (quite insightful really). I think they were probably just in my subconscious because their new album is on stupidly high rotation on jjj, so in every hour I probably hear that jellylegs song about 7 times..... I'm sure those guys are probably pretty nice guys anyway, so maybe in real life I'll call them first....
It's the weekend....I'm shit-talking now....Bye!
Peace. x

2 comments:

  1. That is a kewl dream. I struggle to remember mine. When I wake they're so vivid but ... then they vanish like a blown dandelion. I need to keep that notepad beside the bed with a pencil kind of thing so as to remember them.

    The worst is when you're drifting off and you have a good idea for a post or a plot point in something you're writing but you're too relaxed or rugged to get up and note it down. Sometimes I do and I will email it to work. Then we I get in I have to work out what the hell my sleepy gibberish meant.

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  2. you need to get you a dictaphone! x

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