Tuesday, 18 December 2018


On an earth orbit bio-dome, akin to Silent Running but more stripped back - a simple helping of trees, ponds and pathways. Something tells me the dome is round but the footprint is square? The ponds are raised from the pathways - themselves made of orange training track surface - by about a foot and have thin grass verges around. I know in my head that this dome has regenerated itself. It used to be powered by solar or electricity and now runs on plant energy. I also have an idea that this cycle of regeneration is very quick. There is a False Cypress tree near the corner of a pond and it is broken at the root, lying drowned in the water. I take 3 or 4 small twigs from the tree above the water and know that if I plant them in the ground near the corner of a pond they will grow, and fast. Has everything here regenerated once before? I puzzle over the exact length of this process. Is my mother there? As I sit back to contemplate I realise I have sat on, and crushed, my glasses. Can I have them regenerate too?- 

In a circular lobby with a party of people. Everyone is young, jovial and having a good time. There is a big bubbly blonde girl who I seem to get on well with. This is the entrance to a museum or an exhibition. There is a sudden scrum to get in via a doorway and we are all crushed up against each other. I am part against the female member of staff and she notes, checking my lapel, that none of us have name tags. She manages to take a sticker from the sheet she has in her hand and stick the name 'Jaissin' on my jacket collar. I am amused by her spelling. I must remember and tell my friend Jay Emm, who is there? Thinking of his extravagant laugh? The tight, spiral stair down to the exhibition is in semi-darkness. The stair itself is made from what looks like a dishwasher rack, small, wiry 'U' shaped white loops underfoot and long white support wires running vertically down the sides. I expect this to not be able to support my weight and the moment is tense. The volume of people gives me no option and I am forced on anyway-

We emerge onto a dimly lit underground/metro platform and walk in the only direction we can. We reach a tight bar that runs along some of the platform length. It is walled at either side and open at the platform ends. This, by contrast, is well lit and a black guy and his 2 kids sit at the distinctly retro-styled timber bar. They are ordering cans of juice. I hope to squeeze pass but I cannot, it is not comfortable. He and his eldest son move out the bar to our side to allow us past. Unfortunately none of my group are ready to go - they are all partying in an underground coach. You can only see silhouettes inside and these striking silvery flashes as if triggered by the excited movement. Everyone is yelling and on occasion a bold hand appears, evidently touching the window, making for a startling silhouette effect-

I go on past the bar to the next dark platform. I have a headtorch on now. Ahead of me there is a group of 3 workers sitting eating sandwiches. They sit to the side of a tape cordon that fences off a part of the platform that has subsided on the left. To the right there is a grey, grimy and dilapidated looking coach. I pass them okay, carefully stepping over the cordon and negotiating the sunken structure underfoot. There are more groups of workers/employees further up the platform, all in hard hats and reflective jackets, all in groups of 3, all sitting eating sandwiches, illuminated by my headtorch. The furthest group are sitting not to the side but across the platform. I guess I cannot go any further. As I wait for the train/my group I overhear the middle guy from the group at my back talking about his job, saying, "...so I get to do some stand-up. Not very good..."-

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