Last night I got absolutely malakered. I was on the devil’s juice from about 4pm and stopped at about 1am. I wasn’t in a good way to say the least. I couldn’t get home hence I had to kip at a friend’s house…where I was sick. Fantastic. Then I pretty much passed out.
To be honest I rarely dream when I’m drunk. Last night was different….
There was a gusty wind blowing across the Scottish Highlands. The gust was the type which whistled and echoed. Me and a group of friends were trekking across the hills. We were partisans fighting against the rule of a foreign invader. We battled the wind, shot guns nestled on our shoulders. Cold. Dark. Isolated. Seeking shelter but always having to be on the move. If anyone has seen the film The Wind That Shakes the Barley that’s what my dream was like, but in the Scottish Highlands.
The howling wind was indeed echoing along the canal basin beside the apartment.
Me and the people I was drinking with were discussing if our country was taken over whether we’d fight back.
We were discussing my friend’s mother, who lives in Scotland.
It is weird how our subconscious creates these scenarios.