I dreamt about being in my own graphic novel last night, it was weird


Sunday saw me spend most of the day editing the third draft of Displaced into the fourth and properly deciding where to split it. I spent most of the day in my creation in order to write a new ending for the first part. Continue reading


I dreamt about being chased down by the Gestapo

Wondering what to get me for my Birthday this year? Maybe you could snag me one of these...

I have finally topped my killing Hitler dream. Last night, I dreamt that I was a middle-aged Jewish man running through the streets of some German city at night time, circa 1940, trying to get way from the Gestapo. I kid you not.

The dream was in the first person, I was this Jewish guy running for his life as he scrambled around half of this city dressed only in a white night shirt, brown dressing gown and backless brown slippers. I had dark brown hair, balding on top, and a bushy beard. How did I know that I was Jewish? It was just an overwhelming feeling that I got, along with the pounding heart when I finally woke up.

And I was running for my life. Running from local Gestapo enforcers.

Now, it’s been a while since I’ve read or watched anything related to World War II or the Holocaust. No media texts I have consumed for many months have been related to these subject areas.

So why the hell was I dreaming about being a middle aged Jewish guy, fleeing the Gestapo in the middle of the night? The crazy part was how the dream/nightmare ended.

Finally, after running along dozens upon dozens of cobbled streets, trampling through numerous gardens, and crashing through several houses, I ended up at an orphanage. I tried desperately to hide in the orphanage, but when the Gestapo showed up outside, the woman who ran the place went up to the glass doors that fronted the building and nodded to the secret police that I was there. I then fled the orphanage out a back door, through a huge garden, leaped over a fence and landed on some railway tracks.

Then I woke up.


Due to my atheistic and scientific leanings I am disinclined to believe that this was some kind of past life memory surfacing. But it was bloody weird regardless of what caused it.

Have not woken up with my heart pounding like that for quite some time. Not a pleasant experience. And now that I think about it, I think the book pictured above would only be able to deal with part of the dream, a very small part.

Granddad would never talk about it

My late Granddad

Due to it being Holocaust Memorial Day today, I’d like to spend a moment talking about my Granddad.

He served as a mechanic in the RAF during World War 2. He didn’t have to. He wasn’t conscripted. He joined up under-age and was an Irish boy living in Cornwall.

When he was still alive and before he became very ill, he’d sometimes talk about the war and his role as an aeroplane mechanic. He mentioned how he retrieved the bodies of pilots when going out to plane wrecks. He talked about dodging going to Sunday service by pretending he was a Catholic. He talked about meeting Granny.

Yet, there was one thing that he would never talk about. And that was the concentration camp he went to help “liberate” at the end of World War 2. My family only knew of his role, because of old family friends mentioning it. My family doesn’t know which camp it was, but some day I plan to get a copy of his service records from the RAF in order to find out.

Of course these records would not really tell me what he saw at the camp. No second hand account can.

The Holocaust Memorial Day Trust launched a series of “Untold Stories” this month to show that the blight of genocide still continues today. Be it in memories or new abuses of human rights and new genocides. Here is the trailer:

Sleep Problems

I just want some shut eye

I have had a certain way of doing things since school. See, I can’t leave a job undone. So homework and reading was pretty much always done on time during school and college, and the same thing happened at university.

However, this is now perhaps becoming an issue as I continue through the world of work. I really can’t handle knowing my tasks for the day the day before I’m set to start work on them. My mind keeps returning to dwell on them. Even when I try to sleep. And I’ve mostly found myself dozing during the night, too wired to settle down and that’s with intaking hardly any caffeine during the day. I’ve tried not knowing the specifics of the tasks, but knowing that there will be work to do just kicks off the lack of sleep too.

Oh, and now my main client wants a run down of my day’s following tasks, the day before I’m due to tackle them, starting from today. How am I going to tackle this?

Exercise may be the answer, but until the weather gets better and the hours of daylight longer, I am unable to go out on my bike and terrorize the local motorists. Just Dance 2 is currently out of the question as it really needs more room than I have in my living room at the moment.

I sleep fine on the nights of my days off. I even have a winding down procedure, which does work and I use it every work night and nights off. It includes no caffeine after 6pm, no food after 8pm and being in bed by 11.30pm and reading a book until I feel tired,which doesn’t take very long and I drift off near instantly after putting the book down. Yet three hours later I’m awake and start going through this crappy dozing version of sleep.

I am fed-up with not sleeping properly. Suggestions welcome.

What the hell was that?

It looked a little like this

Sometimes, just sometimes, I really wonder what the hell my subconscious is playing at. I’m still trying to figure out the why behind the dream I had last night, but it went a little like this:

Picture a world that shares the architecture of upcoming BioShock Infinite, but set firmly on the ground. Okay, now add in an academy for the “gifted” akin to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning from the X-Men. Oh, and there was a big long pond/water feature being the centre of the school’s layout.

So, I was a student at this academy and I could shoot fire out of my hands and manipulate fire, and couldn’t be harmed by it, akin to Pyro in the X-Men. I was also blonde haired, and I haven’t been blonde in real life since I was three.

There was some kind of persecution thing going on of people like me, not registration, but outright concentration camp style, and the school had to keep pretending that it was for normal kids. Then one day the place was raided, and everyone had to flee.

I took shelter at a local veterinary surgery and then had a fire ball shoot out with my pursuers (who were dressed like cops from a SWAT team) in the middle of the vets’. My pursuers also seemed intent on harming the animals at the vets, so I had to gather up a bunch of dogs and cats and run off with them to find somewhere safe for them to stay.

As we began holding out in a cave on a hill above the Infinite style city, with fires raging below and the sound of death wringing out, the dogs, cats and I huddled together in fear.

Then I woke up.