Right, okay, things are okay. Very strange dreams, although this makes sense, under the circumstances.

There are common themes. Train stations, railway tracks…A cornfield, bordered by neat little cottages, pretty gardens, disused railway platforms with rusted signal boxes…I walk along this path, and there’s a brook, with pebbles, people fishing…and then I turn the corner and it all turns black, bleak, grimy industrial estates, petrol in the puddles of rain.
I dream also of elevators, car parks…A miner’s lift shaft….The time 17:12 means something. Was I in an office? There was also my mates and I playing pool, before the room flooded. I woke up, at 3am, an echo of recent events drubbing the brain…And I kissed Morrissey, who was scared off…

All is…..better, but not well. But you’ve heard this before.