In the back garden of my childhood/teenage home in Largs. I am with several other people who I can sense but not identify (due to the stress of the situation). There is a white space rocket idling over the garden. It has 4 teardrop like marks on the front towards a point, a long fuselage that culminates in its 4 engines or boosters. There's a solid band around this part too. The rocket consistently hovers then crashes in the garden. The crashes are violent and very close to us. It seems to make a recovery then just as suddenly crash again, sending us dashing for cover. Eventually it lies wrecked on the garden chuckies. I take it upon myself – I am scared and frustrated – to (somehow) grab the nose of the rocket and smash it off the kitchen outside wall. There's a feeling I will smash it down to its component parts and then give the pilot a lecture on his lack of skills. In this process the nose seems to shrink and change material – at first it resembles fibreglass but eventually, as I repeatedly batter it off the wall, it is more and more like a stiff sackcloth of triangular material. I continue to flap hopelessly at this until it dawns on me that there is no pilot at all-
I am with my little brother and my friend Bee Tee. The weather is bright and sunny and we are in a grassy area, kicking about near a distinct, worn vehicle track. A strange, small, bubble covered sort of creature trots past at one point, emerging from the long grass onto the path. It's a little like a lamb, but with a much longer neck and no discernible head - it just simply rounds off at the end. It's primarily blue in colour with flecks of red. The next time I see a similar creature it is physically the same only it has the fur and colouring of a tiger. Its face is much more cute, the round, innocent eyes almost on the top of the head/neck. I ask my brother and Bee if they want another drink - has Bee Tee just drunk a tiger animal? - and I am asked for a lemonade and to "get us another one of those (tiger animal drinks)"-
I'm now on a beach and looking up high towards a shore structure with railings. People are milling about there. I sense a girl there looking down, watching me. It's a vague, indistinct sensation. I struggle to remember what my brother asked for to drink. I am walkig up on the promenade/street level, the beach far below. I recall going into a few counter/cafe places to be told by the staff they have no scones and jam - I think the hot weather and crowds means they have all sold out. One particular counter is staffed by the actor David Tennant and he makes a (sore) point of clearly articulating they have no scones and jam-
In a queue at a counter. The guy ahead of me is paying for his order. I see a tiger animal trotting about the floor behind - good as I know I can buy them here. There's a family of four behind me - a mother, father and two early teen boys - and I am sure they are after scones, but have not heard the announcement. One of the sons tries to queue-jump and I forcibly pull him back into line. Somehow at this point a bald guy infiltrates the front of the queue and manages to get the £5.05 change due to the other guy. I cannot accept this blatant theft and, with my fingers pointing, I tap both the customer and the thief on the top of their respective bald heads - the customer had hair when ordering - and voice my displeasure and say he did it. Does the cafe owner have a £3 million Lottery ticket...?-
I decide to walk back to the beach by another route. At the start of this stands the girl who I was watching from the beach. She is standing by the railings with another guy. She is again looking at me. She seems quite fixed in my mind but I still skip by quickly, aware but wary and without really registering her (familiar) face. I follow two old ladies down a sloped walkway with a built up wall to the sea side. Everything here is covered in a browny stone render. About half way down this walkway it takes a sharp turn to the right only about 3-4 metres is missing. There's no way to continue. I look down at the blue water. You can see the bottom and I think about the frightening possibility of a Great White Shark swimming there. I follow the old ladies back up to the street. Somehow the walkway has changed - it's almost a single brick wide with a single brick upstand at points - and the journey is fraught with danger. The old ladies, one of whom has a walking stick, struggle to cope-
John Cena has a post on Facebook with 23,000 likes. He needs 2 million people to log in and all scream at once. This is for the websites www.data. com(?) and www.deletemusic. com(?)-
Go into a music retail shop. It's an old company, like Our Price or something. The shop itself feels very like the 'Martins' newsagent that used to be on Largs Main Street – creamy painted timber with large windows and glazed entry doors in the centre. Myself, Kay Emm, Enn Bee and his wife Eee Bee go in. My friend Emm Enn and two others are working there. One of them is an older woman, the other is definitely present, but peripheral. To the left is the shop counter and directly ahead and to the right are racks of CDs. I'm really surprised there are no DVDs for sale. I mention this to Emm Enn and he says it's been like that for a while. The shop is just closing and the lady staff member bolts the top of the double doors to stop anyone else from entering. I enthusiastically make some joke about it being a lock-in. We go over to the right to browse the racks of cheap CDs for sale. They all have circular white stickers with a red border and a black, handwritten-esque font stating either £2 or £3. The albums that catch my eye have plain white covers with a single inset photo, stylistically reminiscent of St. Etienne's 'Foxbase Alpha' album cover in many ways-
To the right of this rack, towards the window there seems to be a stack of My Neighbour Totoro merchandise. I'm not quite sure what it is – I think it's a soundtrack cd bundle, but on closer inspection it looks like some sort of plastic margarine tub with images printed on the side. I don't know what's in it – all I know is the price is a shocking £153! I'm stunned and recoil. Atop this construct there are several sets of Totoro vinyl figures, one of which seems to be obscured or refracted through a tiny hole – you have to squint your eyes and look carefully, moving your head from side to side to try and view them in a row. Enn Bee is keen to see them down. I look at some other random vinyl figures, noting that one of a guy standing is only £10-
There is another person present in the shop now and he asks the lady staff member – who is at this point is definitely the actress Sally Hawkins – if he can see something...? She is quite shy and awkward when dealing with him/us. I am over by the counter with her and pick up a black plastic rectangular object. I am puzzled, turning it over in my hands whereupon I realise it is a small PC monitor. It's warm as I think Sally has just disconnected it for the other customer. There's another monitor sitting to my right too. Kay Emm is now (transported) outside, visible through the shop window. Noticing that Enn Bee is still interested in the figures I indicate to her by making the peace sign that we'll be two minutes. I motion with with both my hands for her to sit down-
3 or 4 of us going to see The Bootleg Beatles at a sort of Wetherspoons type pub place. Myself, Kay Emm andmy friend Dee Bee(?) and...? There are 2 staff on the door and the guy who speaks to me looks a bit like a young John McVie of Fleetwood Mac. He's chatty and smiling. We go up the steps and enter through a set of glazed timber double doors. It's a fairly generic pub inside and approaching the bar there's a small stage, raised by a single step, squeezed in the right hand corner - it's carpeted just the same as the floor and a few mike stands can be seen on it. I think the band are on in 15 minutes. I suddenly think to ask Kay Emm if she wants some earplugs. I can go to my (old?) workplace as I have lots of them there. I can picture bags and bags of them. I'm worried the office will be locked so leave quickly-
It is practically right next door and within seconds I'm going up a tight, winding staircase. I meet Eee (?) and my friend Dee Emm coming down the stairs. It's ages since I've seen them and we are happy to see each other. I say hello, ask how they are and if the office is locked for the night. Dee Emm says it is but that she will go back up the stairs with me and let me in. On the landing at the office - Dee Emm has gone - the storm doors are open, the door behind is open and the office is bustling. I can hear the chatty voices from outside. I go in and it is busy. Lots of young, smartly dressed people standing about talking. Lots of bustle. In a rush I kind of push my way through. There's a young girl standing facing me - she looks a little like Millie Bobby Brown from Stranger Things - and I say "excuse me", planting my hands firmly on her shoulders and guiding her to the right to let me pass. The second I do this I realise it could be deemed as inappropriate (and obviously) unwanted contact. Panicking somewhat I make a point of doing the same thing to a young guy also standing in my way. I again place my hands firmly on his shoulders - though he has his back to me - and shuffle him to the side to pass, hoping this will compensate-
I enter my old room and approach a tall cupboard with a narrow double door set. It seems to be angled, as if it had been built for a corner location - but it stands somewhere in the middle. I then see myself - though I look nothing like myself - opening the cupboard to look. This is composed like a movie, the contents are unseen while my reaction is everything. There are no plugs? I say it's full of guns. A row of shining, polished silver guns. I ask who this cupboard belongs to. Gee Dee says that it is Ian's. Wow! I ask what he is like, does he live alone? Gee says he is overweight and we agree he fits the profile (of a would-be killer). I want to know if he lives with his parents, my thinking being they will help ground him and balance out his unpleasant urges. Do I then take some earplugs? As I leave I have a very awkward, apologetic conversation with the young girl. She is visibly embarrassed - bizarrely she seems to colour so much I think suddenly she is British Asian(?) for a moment - as I ramble on about my inappropriate behaviour in putting my hands on her shoulders-
I head down the stairs and out. Seems most of the office is trooping in that direction and I am worried if we turn up en masse then we will not be allowed entry to the gig - ideally we should stagger our arrival to avoid this. I am conscious of my wearing a striped shirt and a jacket on top. I have a kids' sticker/activity book hidden up my shirt. When we emerge into the day it is lightly raining and I have to really focus to zip up my jacket. The sticker book slips down and I take it out, presenting it to the friendly guy on the door. He's right into it. I ask him if he has kids and he says he does not. Flicking through it he says he'll get to it in his spare time-
I go into the pub. It seems much bigger inside now - The Bootleg Beatles can be seen through the windows, playing to the left of the doors, their backs to us - and there are plenty stylish girls in op art dresses dancing and grooving. There are less tables and seats, and those there are of the taller, semi-barstool variety. The front third or so of the pub is raised a step up with a timber balustrade around. The band are playing (to my bemusement) the song 'Mony Mony'. Okay... I go over to the far left where Kay Emm and some others sit (though I know it is her Kay does not look now like herself). She has my earplugs in and looks pained. I take out the other pair of earplugs - blue foam ones, matching those she's wearing. Is it too loud? She says not, but indicates her neck, just below the jawline, and the side of her head-
