I caught some fish. I’m unsure where this fascination with fishing comes from but some time ago now I went and got myself a basic little fishing rod and learnt how to use it half-alright, went to the nearest dam and caught myself a big fat maybe 1.5-2ft carp. That was a great day. But what I really wanted to catch was some small 2 inch fish that would look pretty in a bowl on the kitchen table. I did not want to have pet store fish, I wanted hardy, shiny and hand captured. And a few days ago I succeeded. I saw these fish that were just the right size, just out of my reach, in water not good for my shoes-that-you-do-not-get-wet-unless-you-want-them-permanently-that-way. But I thought I could react fast enough, sink one foot into a few inches of water to get close enough and have the fish. So I pounced on these fish!
…and went A over T in the creek. With a satisfying thud and a spray of leaves, sticks, mud and water I landed on my arse (in my cream skirt I might add) and it would have been just perfect if in my desperate effort to steady myself, my newly acquired fish had soared poetically over my head and into the grass to dehydrate and never be found again…
But I caught the fish! Two decent sized ones. I continued with this fishing and got myself a host of slow tadpoles and so many water bugs (and another fish!) while my friend patiently brought me the bucket to put them in every time and commented that “the only thing less subtle (than your fishing style) would be fishing by dynamite.”
But alas one fell prey to the cats; another went black and mopey after that incident and died. But I still have one left, and all the tadpoles.
Now moving on to bad karma. Wait, I may have discovered the source of it, what if the last fish has died? Fish are good… something, aren’t they? Feng Shui? You do see a lot of peaceful shots of them in new age magazines. I’d better go check the fish.
…
The fish is good. I’m still no closer to finding out the source of it then. On with the story of it. I got up a 6AM after less than four yours sleep and so by the time I had been up for 5 hours I was tired a again, so again, I went to sleep in the middle of the day. I have posted one very interesting detailed dream that this sort of thing caused, but this was a different story. Although the last one wasn’t exactly ‘peachy’ it wasn’t unpleasant. This one was downright evil. I don’t have nightmares often, really few and far between, not that this was frightening but it just… reeked of bad karma as I put it. It started off really normal, I was in the some spot I had fallen asleep, except sitting on the bed. I was in there with another much younger blonde girl, and we were looking through the screen door part of my bedroom door (it doesn’t actually have this) out into the dining room where the woman who had been with us both was agitatedly talking to this man who was obviously some close acquaintance of hers. My mother was going around the house and sweeping and removing cobwebs, smiling at us watch those two argue like we were the biggest eavesdropping gossips she knew. But this whole time a got the impression that they had barged into the house while I was doing something else that I didn’t want them to see, and I wanted to get back to it. I tried to ditch the girl, but my mother seemed to be watching to make sure I babysat her while her mother argued with the man in the dining room. I kept trying to escape them just altogether and eventually excused myself and went to the bathroom. But a few seconds after I closed the door my mother was on the other side of it asking which of two things I would prefer (something really mundane like two dinner alternatives) and just standing outside of the door. I’m on the other side with my whole arm up against it hoping she won’t come in, when I look at myself and discover some hideous (although only subtle and slightly improbable which makes it even more freaky) deformities on my body. I won’t go into what it was but it seriously freaked me out and I sat there just looking at it with the distinct impression of “Oh know what have I done.” But then I was distracted but this huge pool of water on the bathroom floor, and at first I thought I knew where it came from, so I knew it there was nothing I could do and that it wouldn’t get worse. Then, insert weird time lapse dream thing here, I had the notion that I had been asleep for and hour, so I get out of my bed, holding my pillow and taking it with me to the bathroom (huh?) when I see the pool of water again. Only this time the whole floor in between the basin and the bath is two inches deep with it. Some how I had managed to open the door and step in it while it remained in the same spot without gushing out the open door. So I drop my pillow into it and both the towels off the rack, this mops most of it up (very small bathroom, very large towels) and now the floor only had a light sheen of water. But as I gather up the sodden things, a new pool forms, I look up and I see the cause of the problem. It’s just the shower head dripping (it used to do this in real life) but this is more like, uh, pouring. So I wrench the taps off and squeeze the water out of the shower rose, which is now situated 6' 10" in the air and a foot over the edge of the bath. Genius.
Not that freaky so far? Unless it was your deformed body. Alright.
Next I have to go put dome horses down. Three of them, give them the lethal injection. No idea why I have to do this, but I don’t have enough serum, two of them die a peaceful death but the third one just stumbles around groggily and in agony. And for some reason I have to put them onto this… thing. I know it’s from a picture I saw once out of a book, it’s a really old two tier yellow tram like object with a spiral staircase off the back. And I had to get the horse up that onto the top so it could be shipped off somewhere. I eventually have to climb up the thing with and ANZAC biscuit to tempt it but the moment the big heavy groggy horse starts climbing the structure starts rocking and the metal edges cut into my legs and it really hurts, I nearly fall over a few times, but the horse boards and leaves.
The next thing that is on the agenda is deciding where to go on Australia Day (quite a few days ago now) because we have to take the dog away from the fireworks that people will let off (which they actually don’t, New Year’s, yes, but not Australia Day) anyway, I have a brochure for a winery that we could go to. Really nice place, trees that look permanently coloured like they are in Autumn, clear streams, green grass etc. But we don’t end up going anywhere because my mother realises that they have Australia Day everywhere and there is no use.
It had its unimpressive moments, but the deformities and killing those horses… seriously shook me. It was one of those dreams where you got up and washed your face with cold water, where you were so sure that it was real you had already planned out the consequences of what had happened on your real life. Erlgh.
I wonder what I did to attract such awful. Or maybe it has something to do with the last item in the title- microphone. Yesterday I went shopping (one of the best shopping trips ever, new shoes! Five new pieces of clothing for under $50! Opp Shops rule!) but I won’t get into that bit of it, the point is I bought a microphone, just a cheap one, but anything is an improvement on my mp3 player’s one. I had been just mucking around with it last night, late at night, hence the four hours sleep. But not taking it seriously, making fun of how me and my friends voices sounded recorded, I had heard mine before, but they were shocked. But today I got it out and seriously recorded the song that I wrote last (yes, yay, another new song) and really listened. I had done this one before with the mp3 player and actually been happy enough to play it to someone else, who said that it was really quite good and after being asked my favourite singing gauging question: “If you heard that live would you want your money back?” said that they wouldn’t, for once. But this is something else. This microphone captures it too well. I can’t stand it, and I know that’s bad, so chalk another one up for Things That Give Me Doubts About Whether I Can Accomplish My Dream- I can’t stand the sound of my own voice. If it was someone else’s song, even with music, and I heard it on the radio I think I would turn it off. I’m listening to it as I type and it’s interfering with my spelling. Whick ands auo something like thisd. Is that normal? I would think that if it were common for singers to hate their own voices it would be at least impractical, because of all the times they’d have to listen to it in the studio making records and listen to it constantly blasting out of the vocal monitors on stage. What does one do? I thought it was all going so well and now this? After hearing that my song and singing would not inspire the audience to form a ticket-refund lynch mob, I was on a bit of a high. I thought it was all slowly becoming possible… I can be a bit light hearted about it but, this is a little, earth-shattering.
This reminds me of these three wishes that I was trying to concoct. I was really thinking about what I would wish for if I was given three wishes, apart from, duh! 10 more wishes, why does no-one think of that in movies? First of all I would wish for band members, before money, fame, fortune or immortality. I would want friends, co-workers, partners, actual musicians. My wish would be long winded that’s for sure. Huge. I would give the genie a small pile of scribbly A4 pages. So once I had my ideal, amazing, talented, creative, good-looking, perceptive, hard-working, faultless band members, I would ask to be able to sing. Yeah, saw that one coming, eh? I know it’s a cop out, and I actually would feel bad about just asking for it like that rather than working at it, but this is a hypothetical based around instant gratification… This would also be a similarly long winded description of exactly what my voice should sound like with numerous references to my favourite artists and singing styles. And lastly it is a bit of a draw between a few classic ones; immortality, permanent good health for myself and all my family and friends (different from immortality, with the dying a natural death at the end), and speaking of death- wishing for the answer to the cure for cancer, ending poverty, starting world peace, a billion dollars, fame, a record deal, the ability to shape shift, magical powers, the ability to time travel… too many…
Time travel sounds good but we’ve all seen how wrong that can go, but I think the true humanitarian, selfless, most worthwhile of all those is the cure for cancer. The benefit to society would be enormous, good karma, no doubt a lot of money, fame, all of that, to just be able to click your fingers and have that happen would be the best thing ever. It would be too good an opportunity to pass up by wishing for something that will only bring you happiness for a limited time.
My friend said she’d simply wish for happiness. Makes sense. Why didn’t I think of something like that? That’s all one could ever want. But in a way I guess I was wishing for that. I want to have my career and be a good person. That would make me happy. But then in wishing for something like happiness, you face the problem of handing it all over to the fates and letting whatever makes you happy happen to you. And what if it wasn’t a good thing? There is always some sort of nasty catch to these things. Wish for a million dollars and it’s stolen money; wish for someone to love you and have them utterly obsessed with you instead; wish for a huge acreage and it’s in the middle of the Sahara… what if what you thought you’d be most happy with wouldn’t be what you expected or could cope with? Not that you would know or care because you’d be happy, but I think all of us would be nervous about making a wish like that. Not my friend though, that would be a very good wish for her, she’d be some sort of volunteer animal rescue person with a stone mansion.
☆Anika☆
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