Dream Choreography

[Michael Barwell]

Positively oodles o' sirens each morning as I'm waking several times during the night/morning to curious clip-verts of dc's. What happens seems to be to a pattern; I wake at the tail-end of a quick scene/scenario, and a siren goes-off mid distance, then it stops, restarts & gets closer, then again the same, getting closerrr.

-ignore the 'bold'

Monday28Nov'16, 2x's dc's; 1[SUP]st[/SUP] was to s scene where I had a load of delicious looking chicken stew in my stay-hot cup, & for some reason, I was putting the whole thing in the loo AHHH in the u-bend! my phrase of bent coppers in this Aktion Reinhard miasmic horseshit scheme of brainwash-torture-murder by charlatan frauds "as bent as a u-bend (and for the same purpose as a-)". >duh< I'm no good at this shit at all. Interesting sideline to that whole dc, I think there were 3x chicken breats/fillets in that stew the triple-breasted whore of… something or other..? The shitehounds seem to do' The Hitch-hikers Guide to the Universe', & LL', Luelinks, so Ben', or Dwayne said, was life, universe & everything'. Then again, it could be from the film Total Recall which in tern could be from-… etc. There's an on-going news story on BBC txt about a severely autistic lad who needs the same type blue cup that he's always used "Dad's search for a little blue cup for his son goes viral" which sounds very similar to mine & nicely' sends a thread-out, psychologically, if you're loosing yer mind, like. Wibble. Very standard.

2[SUP]nd[/SUP] was an incongruous visual, pretty much still, as I remember, and the sentence/phrase juxtaposed, "Out of ammunition". Strange one that; the img seemed to have no relevance at all, unless that itself was the gig.

Speeking of being out of ammunition'; I keep recalling odd stuff, like how the first big, massive, shouty & stompy shit-for-brains PC came round to my flat in N-u-T & stood on my doorstep for several minutes being a big shouty cupid stunt; I've mentioned before that this was surely to embarrass me into not calling em out an' saying "I'm being followed by my neighbour who looks like Reeta Chakrabarti & the 2[SUP]nd[/SUP]/3[SUP]rd[/SUP] time I spoke to her had suddenly developed both a Spanish accent & a whiff of alcohol". This is the same tactic as was in that Derren Brown program where he'd persuaded a lad at a weekend lecture-type affair, that he'd murdered someone the lecturer had changed her top, unseen, behind the room they were being lectured in, & this is that change of name thing Michael' to Sean'. And too, those records of my contacts with Northumbria cops that I paid a tenner for they were deklivered by the postman, by hand, to my mother, in Skinnergate I happen to know that that's pretty much a sackable offence they must be delivered thru' the door, but the gig was to embarrass me obviously, the A4 envelope was franked Northumbria Police Authority'. >cou-bullshit-ghs<

Then there was the way that they'd told me my ex- had popped-out a sprog & got married; seems the 1[SUP]st[/SUP] bit's true, but the 2[SUP]nd[/SUP]'s bullshit, but the way they'd msg'ed me was interesting by highlighting a song title on my tv, from the list of MP3's on my thumb drive/stick-thing. (They used to do this a lot, & surely would again if I popped it in my telly); Dame tu adore'. Then I got the sound of a crying infant bairn. Then I'd asked the walls', if she was married, & somehow got the sound of churchbells, possibly inside my head, surely not from the tv as it was on a data-trip with the stick. This may sound odd, but I had about 3yrs of that sort of bullshit, all day, every day. I don't get it now, counterproductive, I think.

I haven't run-out of ammo at all; even the old ammos in tip-top shape I just need to dish it out to more & different people [oooh - siren there suddenly 15:36hrs see?]. Not sure if the local 6[SUP]th[/SUP] Forms best, or to concentrate more on standing outside the Jobcentre, handing-out er, handouts. Really, I think it's just a question of finding the right language & format for ppl to read I've been told that I have a nack for hiding information, in essays an' that big subject tho', & absolutely shiiiitloads to write on it, which I need to, to tie it all together into a comprehensible Kill-The-Mind-&-The-Body-Will-Follow' scheme.

No.18's been very quiet as of the last few days; I'd resolved that every single time I get a ref from them, it's returned; that's the 7:15am People we take our hats off to' pterodactyl [ooh, siren] shouting "You fucking knobhead". 10minutes after returning home that night, there was quite a loud footfall up/or/down No.18's stairs which I let go. The day before, it was "You're a fucking arsehole", but the program' [oooh, neuralgic just in front of my top right ear very trigeminal neuralgia torture area] is that I wake to dc's, sirens, & clicks, & go to sleep with 18 wall-tapping & clicks, & everything in between, both awake & asleep, 360degree/24/7/52/+5 etc. Fuck em. But 18 was quite noisy again last night, thru' a debate on tv on this new fake news' faddy trend of the moment. 8:10pm, "Europes eastern flanks", "Ingram" (which I know of as a very-hi rate of fire, tiny wee machine gun), "EU Parliament", "in France, in Italy, in Germany", the refs leaking' into RT's Cross Talk. As per oodles of other older refs, I'm to "Fear Thy Neighbour" & "Neighbours From Hell", etc. And a "slim chance of survival" from something or other. Loads an' loads of shit, almost as tho' that Fusion Centers [sic] had riled em.

3:40am, "Syria" click right ear; "They're dying to get out" pain to left shoulder very common atm as it's very sore anyway.

This mornings dc was in the form of a phone call from someone I know, & the 1[SUP]st[/SUP] neuralgic of the day, was quite a strong one, to the mid centre right side of my head, as I mumbled the line in Chocolate Cake' by Crowded House or maybe Counting Crows "And the excess of fat on your American bones, will cushion the impact as you sink like [neuralgic, light] a stoooone". I also get clicks & N's to the like "Cheap Picasso fake", as they seem to think of themselves as artists', & as I think Picasso is the most insanely over-rated artist', ever, they like to reference it, because of that all very SOP.