Moonive

At the theatre. I think I am with Kay Emm. It is the interval and I am wanting to go to the bathroom (even though it feels like I have just returned). We are seated along the right hand side of the stalls, in seats at a right angle to the stage. The stage itself seems to be on the same level as the floor, a large curtain half-draped across for the break. For some reason I understand (or am told) that I can go to the bathroom via the stage, so I get up and walk over. I think an older woman perhaps told me this but anyway she has the same idea. Len Goodman and his dancing partner are running through some steps. The older lady and I walk over to the right hand corner of the stage and peer down a spiral stairwell. There is a small sign showing this leads to a ladies bathroom (and another for something else). I walk off out into the vast foyer area of the theatre. It seems very confusing in terms of layout and an usher – very much like the bellhop from The Grand Budapest Hotel – brings a stair to my attention. This is a tight stairwell (this time with a square footprint) that disappears into the middle of the floor. I descend- 

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I am then in a strange sort of rocky area. There seems to be 2 ushers here – is one almost identical to, if not, the chap from up the stairs? - and there is a coin-operated barrier, of the classic 3 rotating metal prongs variety, inset into a rock (at about 2 feet off the ground). The rock here has a slightly slick, damp, deep underground feel. I sort of skip over this small barrier and one of the ushers says it costs 20 pence. I check in the wee watch pocket of my trousers with my finger but have no change. The usher says it is okay and puts in 20p of his own. Unfortunately the machine doesn't register/recognise it and it just falls from the lower slot onto the rock. There are two young guys sort of behind me in the queue and one of them also skips over the rock. The usher collars him and insists he pays 40p, to cover both his and my entry- 

I assume he does as I am now in a vast field where there are lots of guys peeing. The problem is there isn't really much sufficient “cover” to do so with much privacy. As such I walk on through this field, passing a few guys peeing in at scrappy bushes or trees on my way. I pass a slightly rough looking couple who seem to be walking their dog here. I walk towards a large house, facing me. To its rear is a terrace of 3 or 4 other houses, though these properties face away, off to my left. Back to back, though separated by a sort of patch of road, are another 3 or 4 houses, this time facing off to my right. The large house belongs to Chris Evans and he is visible in the garden with his shock of red hair, playing with some children. He is ranting and raving, swearing about the fact it's not acceptable that guys are hanging around and pissing-

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I turn away from these houses and head back in the general direction of the stairwell. I pass the woman from the rough couple and she gives me an evil stare. I come to what I think at first is their dog lying on the grass, but what I soon realise is a bear. It snuffles round from its' sleepy position and rises up on its' front legs. It has a nose with a sort of kink in it, giving it the slightly comedic look of an elephant seal. It also fixes me with a intense stare. Is there another bear or just the one? I decide I don't much like the look the bear is giving me and turn to my left, heading quickly towards another house (this sits on its' own) in the distance. I am conscious that the bear is still watching me and quicken my pace. As I head round the back of the house and prepare to climb up the sort of curved, mottled back wall into the garden I am quite aware the bear is up and running and in pursuit-

Vunee

Set in Bankhouse Avenue, Largs. A Mini driving about. Three of us at girl's flat. Good intentions. It was myself, the lead actor from the film Man Bites Dog and someone else. The girl's father turned up. He had a small moustache and slicked hair – Italian. Just went mental. Kicking the three of us in. We got him onto a bed and tied him down with a sheet on top of him- 

He was struggling to get his head out. He began to boot the knot at his left foot free. As we pounded on top to restrain him his watch alarm, set at 10:00, went off. He shouted at us to let him stop the alarm and that he needed to go somewhere. He smartened himself up and left. Mr Man Bites Dog went down the stairs to check he'd gone. A couple of minutes later the other guy left the flat and went down to see also. I suddenly realised and rushed to put down the snib on the front door. Too late! As the snib clicked the father belted in the door. He smacked me one and proceeded to boot my face in. I was screaming for the others to come back and help. Instead of going downstairs they had gone up a flight and waited for the others(?) to go down. I was, while being beaten solidly in the face, utterly terrified-

Waftly

People talking. A woman, pinched face, short hair harks on about a parcel. A man responds indignantly, firmly, incessantly. An older woman (Fawlty Towers, “The Anniversary”?), plump, correct states there is no such parcel, no such street. The woman becomes adamant, angry. Cut to a wide shot. The old woman lies prone on her back, her cheap tights smudged red, the flesh below captured, clawed and bloody. The pinched woman straddles her, the aggressor, shouting. Cut to mid shot. Dark window, both faces inside, looming. The pinched woman throws the elder through it. Cut to close up. The older woman now lies back inside the smashed window(?) her marvellous, extravagant neckwear, a suffusion of spotted diamonds, tinkling in the light, nearer and nearer, laughing - yes, I can hear it - in the brightness-

Encycee

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New York City? On the sidewalk with my friend Vee Dee. Feels like there are another 2 guys with us, but they seem to be several steps ahead. I am looking up at an Inn-style hanging sign above us. It also, somewhat confusingly, looks like a sandwich chalkboard at the same time. On the right hand side of the sign, written in chalk is a message that begins “Thanks for...” and it is from the band Boobs Of Doom. I can see where coloured chalk writing – a menu? - has been rubbed out on the board too, around the edges. This thanks is because they saw my blog. Then there is another note – this time on a sandwich chalkboard on the ground? - about places they like that we should visit. They warn us that they prefer bars that are “rammed” and it mentions things like “Upper East Side” in reference to the 2 or 3 locations. The note concludes with a warning “Try if you dare!” (or somesuch) in relation to a Rum Bar- 

Seems as if this Rum Bar is right next door? Vee Dee and I go/are in it. It has a single angled glass door at either side of a tall and wide central glass window, each door with a long velvet curtain that can be drawn over it. We have come in from the left hand side and are looking at another chalkboard, this time mounted low on an artist's easel. The flooring is simple timber and there is nothing else that I recall in terms of furnishings or staff – I don't think I looked into the bar at any point. It is 'early light', bright, but not sunny and the place has a dusty, ethereal feel. Vee Dee takes some chalk and scribbles at the art on the board. When he finishes I look at the existing illustration – a sort of big-chinned cartoon character with a spiked beard, drawn in single lines – and cannot detect any changes. Did he add a spike to the beard? I ask for the chalk and make as if to draw on the board but do not. Not sure what to do I put the chalk (2 pieces) on the floor under the easel. As we leave, by the right hand side door, I look back and see 3 pieces of chalk – though these are worn and weathered – to the right hand side of the easel. Next to them lies my skateboard, turned on its' back with no wheels or trucks- 

Next door (Boutique store called 'Cult-ure'?). Vee Dee is again standing at a chalkboard making sweeping sketching arcs. He stops this when he sees the staff members (or hears them talking). There are 3 of them and they are all fairly interchangeable, dressed in the classic white tee with washed out denims and slicked back, black hair. Each of them is attending to neatening racks of clothing. Is the item of clothing on a hanger next to the chalkboard a circus ringmaster's red jacket and striped shirt? There are several schoolchildren in smart green blazers with gold flashing – there is a girl with long frizzy blond hair and a long grey woollen skirt who seems to be leading them – and one of the staff is saying that, as they are 14 years old, they are not allowed in the store-

Oodoa

In some superstore. White polythene bags full of comics for sale. I bought a full bag of MARVEL Comics with titles like Iron Man and so on. The other was a bag of 2000AD Monthlies (like 'ABC Trading?') rather than I had previously thought- 

Chased down an utterly massive staircase by a gang- 

About 4 or 5 of us. I was so scared I was leaping over the balustrade to jump great sections of the stairs. Scared due to the steep stairs that I might break an ankle in a fall and get caught- 

I would jump just before a landing to skip it. At the bottom of the stairs I went to the right first. I left my comic bags by mistake. It was totally risky to go to the left to get them before the gang caught up. I just made it. The gang went to the right- 

The leader looked like a fat-faced Tim Booth from the band James. Our side full of trash, all boarded up. They were out at it. Couldn't get through. They talked to us through the giant blue (school-like) railings-

Shabambly

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Somerset House. Babyshambles were playing. It was weird, the band squashed over to the left-hand side of the stage, performing listlessly in front of no definable backdrop, but under the dominating presence of a huge video screen. Peter Doherty invited a girl, dressed as a 2 x life size Stan Laurel, from the crowd and up on to the stage. He was remarkably humorous as she made her way to join him, entertaining the audience even further by exchanging witty banter with her for a good few minutes upon her arrival. I thought of how charming he was off of drugs. They then played 'F*ck Forever'-

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Later and the Stan Laurel girl – now out of costume – and myself are in the "Babyvanbles", having been promised a tour of London. The driver of said van seems to be the actor Paul McGann. Peter Doherty seems in good health and spirits and I'm a little taken aback by his looming physical presence, which is intimidating without being threatening. My friend Jay Gee offers everyone some biscuits and I take one before declining, passing it to Paul in the front, the reasoning being I have 6 Empire Biscuits in my bag that I have yet to share-

The architecture we view is astounding, like no London as I recall it; this modern concoction of structures that twist, contort, fan and tower – often all at once! At the end Paul takes to reversing the van backwards into a cross junction, causing some associated traffic chaos-

Franver

Strange sort of Pixar/Zootropolis mash-up. Seem to be inside my/a head, though the interior looks like a converted tower or some sort from the television show George Clarke's Amazing Spaces, all sandy brick, warm timber and a light, bright airy feel. In this circular space three rabbits are running in a circle around a central lightwell. Are they holding hands? Each seems to represent a specific age or time in one's life, and the youngest of these is a female bunny. This causes some confusion if she's inside a male head. One of the rabbits voiced by my friend Jay Dee? At one point we seem to be running away from something and end up in the ear canal. When the head tilts it then somehow reveals the ear on the other side and we can see our pursuer(?) caught in the daylight at the other end- 

At a party at my friend Vee Dee's house. I am talking to his sons. Jay Dee and I especially are having a great laugh – he's howling with laughter at my jokes. We seem to be up on a sort of mezzanine floor, the front door a level below (and out of sight). We discover that “The Somme” has arrived and I proceed to reel off a bunch of unfunny rhyming riffs on this - “The Dong!?”, “The Bong!?”. We pass him on our way out of the house. I have two heavy rucksacks – something tells me one is filled with lots of tangled cables – and we are walking down the street in the dark. Suddenly it's announced we are going for the train and will need to run to catch it. I have no chance with the uncomfortable and heavy bags. The others make it and as I stumble down the steps and on to the platform I see one of them just squeeze in the closing doors. I have no chance and, perhaps expecting the train to wait, am then forced to watch helplessly as it drives off. I have a seething urge to smash something to bits, but opt to flail my hands about feebly, aware that there is CCTV in operation- 

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Star Wars setting. Akin to Cloud City. Aware that this huge construct is perched over the sea. Han Solo and Princess Leia. Some sort of pursuit and escape is being conducted. I understand that to get away we need to reach the very bottom of the city (and then, presumably, the sea). Lots of cautiously edging down tight stairwells with a blaster at the ready. At certain points the walls and doors from these stairs change – instead of the chunky white finish, the surrounds are silver/grey and the glass doors evidently open into Imperial sections of the city. The interiors here are the typical reddish and black colour scheme. The people we are with – I have no idea if I am Han Solo or not in this dream, but it feels less so as it goes on – suggest we go to their home prior to heading to the bottom of the city. We exit a stairwell and it is decided that Leia(?) and myself should wrap ourselves in duvets as a disguise. We do so - though it's less of duvet and more a thick bed throw – wrapping them uptight round our necks and walking out into the crowded open space. I am walking with my fists bunched up tight under my chin to hold the duvet in place. Walking straight through the crowds of people, who often part in puzzlement to let us past. My mother, who is walking nearby(?), suggests if anyone asks that I should talk about how ill I am and what prescriptions and medication I am taking. I respond that they may not be the same as here, worried it could give us away. We pass some shop/boutiques on our left hand side. In one of the great glass windows there is the title of the Queen song 'Who Wants To Live Forever?'. My mother says something like, “it's alright for some...”-