Showing posts with label subconscious. Show all posts
Showing posts with label subconscious. Show all posts

Monday, 11 March 2019

STORYTIME: I DREAMED OF THE FUTURE LOVE OF MY LIFE, MANY YEARS AGO (EVIDENCE PROVIDED!)

Introduction
So, one of the significant reasons as to why my dreamwork suffered over the past few months is my relationships. I would not normally make a post dedicated to relationships (other than those with my dream characters, or where strictly relevant to a dream). Regular readers of my Blog will note the relatively recent references to a person named 'AJR' in my dreams. This is my boyfriend, but more importantly, the love of my life. The primary motivation for sharing private details of our relationship is because I am aware some of the contextual information for my dreams has the potential to cause confusion or intrigue. Secondly, due to the nature of how our relationship developed, I decided to go back through the dream archives to see if there was any indication of AJR appearing in my dreams prior to the start of our relationship, and I found something really interesting (to me: 'mind-blowing'). I therefore need to talk about my relationship with AJR in order to demonstrate the significance of this dream from a number of years ago. 

If this Storytime is too long and rambling (it is very convoluted, despite my best efforts here), and you simply want to read the relevant dream, you can scroll down towards the bottom of the post where I have copy-pasted the text of the dream, or you can visit the actual original post itself, by clicking here - Dream 70. However, I do recommend you read the rest of this post, because some of the content is pretty weird and also - it's a tale of 'True Romance' and 'Fate' and 'the Universe Speaking' and 'Star-Crossed Lovers' etc as well as having a lot of emphasis on Star Wars, quite randomly.

My Relationship with AJR: A Summary
AJR and I first met in 2007, although precise details of timing are unclear. AJR is likely to have better recollection than I do, but I haven't specifically asked him. We generally refer to us as having met '11 years ago' because at the time, we know AJR was 19 years old and I was 25 years old. 

At the time of our meeting, I was working as a prison lawyer and criminal law paralegal while I did my professional legal qualifications. AJR was serving an IPP (imprisonment for public protection) sentence. I do not plan to explain what an IPP is in detail (an indeterminate sentence, which is basically a form of 'life imprisonment') or AJR's personal information. Just be aware that IPP sentences are very controversial and no longer available, having been abolished. Many IPP prisoners are languishing in the prison system, unable to obtain parole. A tariff is set (the part which must be served before parole can be considered) and many prisoners received tariffs of a number of months for relatively minor acts of violence, but remained in prison for over 10 years. AJR had been in prison for some time already, and at 19 years of age was 'starred up' meaning he was in the adult side of the prison, not Young Offenders (where he normally would have been, being under 21 years of age at the time).

AJR and I 'met' in the following way. I admit my memory here is very vague, as I met so many different prisoners at that point in my life, and honestly, as much as he will hate this, AJR was of no personal significance to me 11 years ago, despite me liking him a lot and enjoying seeing him each time we had a legal visit because he was cute and had a good sense of humour. 

One day, my law firm asked if I would do a prison law case for a Young Offender (IS) who was in the local YOI. My firm had been/was dealing with a criminal case for IS (my recollection is that he had already been convicted). He had an independent adjudication (District Judge comes into the prison to hear the case) regarding an assault charge against another prisoner. He was running a defence of self defence and wanted me to defend him (we won). I believe this may have been my first ever 'not guilty'/contested adjudication case where I'd be cross-examining witnesses. Anyway, in preparation for the IA, I needed to take instructions from IS, so I arranged a legal visit in the YOI. 

I recall more about this meeting with IS than I do with AJR, possibly because I'd already been working on IS' case file for his Crown Court matter. IS and I had our legal visit in the YOI in an office, which I remember had filing cabinets in it, because a prison officer came in halfway through and asked if we'd been stealing the staff biscuits, which were in the filing cabinet and we'd joked and said IS was known for drug offences, not dishonesty. I recall that after I took IS' instructions for the IA we were discussing music, as IS wrote down the name of his friend's mixtape on the legal papers, after discovering I was a hip hop fan and knew a number of UK-based hip hop artists through my friends/current boyfriend (PS). 

After the legal meeting with IS, I left. Unknown to me at the time (and remaining unknown to me until recent times, when AJR informed me of his version of events), AJR was in the Segregation Unit ('the block') which I was walking through/past. AJR heard noise outside his cell and peeped through the gap between the door/door-frame. He saw me leaving, specifically he says he saw my ass in a tight skirt. He wanted to meet me, and therefore shouted out to IS, thereafter 'forcing' IS to provide him with the details of my law firm so he could make contact. At first, he did not believe IS had given him my real name, as my last name is very long and unique. He contacted my firm, asking for representation from me, and unaware of how he came to be my new client, I arranged for a legal meeting.

If I was asked to describe AJR (prior to us reconnecting and me actually having my memory revived), I would struggle. I would possibly (and this is an assumption, given I can't discredit what I now recall having a template of his face as it is now, relatively the same, just older) have said 'tallish, slim build, white skin, blondish hair'. I did not remember he was from Essex. AJR was in a weird suit when I first met him. The suit was blue and yellow checked. He was made to wear this because he was an escape risk and the suit was designed to make him visible as an escape risk. It was truly awful and this was the first time I'd seen a prisoner in such clothing. AJR told me the legal visit was so I could request he be given his normal clothing back. In fact, he did not care about wearing this suit, as it made him feel 'special' (AJR is, like me, an extrovert, so I understand this). He had invented' his problem solely to get me to visit him. I said I would write to the Governor. After a very short legal discussion, AJR began chatting to me socially. I do not recall the nature of this - or subsequent - conversations, but apparently I told AJR about my relationship with a guy from London (PS) and what PS did; and we also discussed music (AJR was an Eminem fan, and he says we discussed Eminem at length). 

After our first meeting, AJR would constantly contact me asking for representation on a number of matters. I just assumed he was - like most prison clients of mine - wanting some interaction and to stir issues within the prison, using his lawyer as a means of challenging small problems. I would arrange legal meetings, receive letters from him or phone calls to my office. I never ever once felt he fancied me, although he says it should have been obvious given all his 'legal issues' were so minor and invented purely to see me (stuff like his Playstation had been removed or he'd lost a T-shirt and wanted to complain). IPPs/life prisoners do not have IAs (as they can't have extra days added to their sentence on a guilty plea/finding) so it was always matters requiring written representation. AJR can recall outfits and hairstyles I wore 11 years ago. He recalls watching me write legal notes, and then looking away at the wall when I looked up. He'd remain seated at the end of the visit, so he could watch me leave (and check out my ass). On one occasion, he recalls I mentioned I was very tired (maybe he'd commented that I seemed tired) and I'd told him my boyfriend, PS, was staying with me. This led AJR to get jealous, knowing I'd been with my boyfriend the night before and that was why I was so tired. I cannot believe I shared so much personal information with a client (looking back, having been told by AJR), but I guess he was charismatic and I trusted him. He can't believe I didn't know his real intentions, given our legal visits involved less than 5 minutes of legal instructions and advice, and then 55 minutes of hanging out together, talking. He'd go back to his cell and...(as candid as I'm trying to be here, you can use your imagination). Apparently there was a lot of talk about how he fancied me within the prison. His mum has since told me that she and his brother remember my name being mentioned by AJR over the years. 

My last meeting with AJR was in a different, local prison, where he'd been transferred at some point. A new client (I'll call him ABC as I have no recollection of him whatsoever, and he was simply used as a pawn in AJR's grand scheme of getting contact with me) asked me to represent him on an IA involving production/possession of 'hooch' (prisoner-made alcohol from fermented fruit juice). ABC was pleading not guilty and AJR was his star defence witness. AJR was in fact not a legitimate witness - ABC was bang to rights on the charge and was advised by myself that he should plead guilty as he had no legitimate defence from AJR, who was clearly inventing his evidence. ABC and AJR knew this, AJR had simply wanted the opportunity to see me in a private room, to give a witness statement, knowing I'd advise that it wouldn't be useable in the case and I wouldn't need to call him to testify (ABC in fact told me he was always wanting to plead to the charge anyway, so for him it made no difference). I still did not know AJR fancied me or had concocted this scheme to see me. I only found this out in recent times, and yes, I do think it is both creepy and highly romantic at the same time. 

AJR said that he was always waiting for me to give him the 'green light' to make a move on me in a legal visit. Ethically, I would not have done so, but honestly - I wasn't even tempted to do so as I had a boyfriend. He said he wanted to try and play footsie under the table and see if it led anywhere, but I never gave him a sign and he didn't try anything. Looking back, we both wish things were different, but in a way, if I'd known he fancied me back then and acted on it, perhaps life would have turned out differently (I might have regretted it or something might have gone 'wrong' meaning I'd avoid future contact?)

Anyway, sometime thereafter AJR and I lost contact. I stopped working for the law firm and moved to London to live with PS. AJR did a 'grand tour' of the prison system in England. There was no way of contact, even if either of had been minded to try. I forgot all about AJR (so I assumed), and to him, I was just another woman he'd met who he fancied, but never forgot. 

So between 2008/9 and 2018, there was absolutely no contact between AJR and I - it was as if neither of us existed for each other anymore - life moves on. He was one of a large number of former clients and I was just another one of his numerous lawyers over the years. 

In spring 2018 I was dating KU. The relationship was toxic and I was suffering from mental and emotional health issues due to family matters and the effect the relationship with KU (another university student, same age as myself) was having on me. 

Out of the blue I received a Facebook friend request and message from AJR. I didn't know who this was at first, but soon realised. His face appeared familiar to me and then upon re-learning his name, I had more memories (although clearly, not as strong as AJR's). He said that he had seen me as a mutual friend of TW (a friend of his offline). TW had been someone who randomly added me and had no interaction with me, so the fact this was AJR's actual friend and the way he first found me online randomly, is a matter of pure chance. I discovered that AJR was still in prison, this being his 14th year serving the IPP sentence. He was now 30 years old. He was also back in my local prison (i.e. in my city, the place where we'd originally met, 11 years ago). I was shocked he was still in prison, and upset to hear about that. He had an illegal smartphone, hence how he had Facebook and other social media. I recall him 'liking' (maybe even commenting) on some of my profile pictures/photo uploads, but I do not think I ever went and looked at his actual profile as I do not remember a single thing about his online presence outside of our inbox conversations. 

AJR appeared to be instantly interested in me and - in my opinion - came on very strong, talking about wanting to kidnap me for a shotgun wedding. I resisted his advances, but did not tell him I had a boyfriend, saying I was single and not interested in dating (the toxic/abusive relationship was not something I was prepared to discuss with AJR at the time). I would read AJR's messages on Facebook and leave him on read, ignoring him. He'd ask for my phone number and I wouldn't say 'No' outright, but make some excuse as to the fact I thought he'd harass me, given he was already harassing me in message form. I was basically avoiding given solid answers and stringing him along without being entirely honest with him. This would make AJR angry and frustrated and he would challenge me about it, leading to me becoming hostile and defensive. Obviously, I didn't know that he'd fancied me for so long and how it felt to make contact after so long, only to be actively ignored. I remember telling friends that I was wary of talking with him too much because he seemed very persistent and I wasn't sure about him. I completely overlooked the fact that while me ignoring AJR for hours or even days was 'normal' for online interactions, for him sitting in a cell, minutes felt like hours. He'd forget people have busy lives in the outside world. Seeing a notification that I'd read his messages and was online, but not responding drove him crazy and he'd tell me he'd seen me online ignoring him, which led to me being even more cold and aggressive with him, telling him I didn't want him watching my actions etc. At one point, AJR decided to send an unsolicited photograph to me, which enraged me. I immediately responded in an angry manner, informing him of how disgusting I found his actions. AJR was really apologetic, and in his defence, he wasn't as clued up on these types of interactions as I was - he assumed it was a good way to get my attention. My reaction made him feel really guilty. 

Eventually, after I continued to behave in a cold and unapproachable manner, AJR told me that he was going to delete me from Facebook and re-connect with me when he achieved parole, which was scheduled for October 2018. I didn't even respond to his final message to me, and just saw it as one of those unfortunate online interactions. I was upset he felt he had to delete me and that my rejection had led to this, but I had my own problems to deal with, so just moved on. 

Sometime in June/July 2018 I'd finished my relationship with KU. I was on Facebook and decided to look in my 'second' or 'hidden' inbox (the one where messages from non-contacts often end up). I hadn't got any notifications to look in there, it's just something I sometimes do. In the hidden inbox was a message from a person with a name which was the same first name as TW, and AJR's actual last name, spelled slightly differently, so 'TR'. There was a photograph as the profile picture, but I didn't look too closely at it. The message said words to the effect of 'Hi Babe' or something, triggering me to say; 'You obviously don't know me if you think I like being called Babe'. I then looked more closely at the profile picture and saw it was AJR, so softened my tone. AJR said he his former Facebook account had been deactivated (Facebook became aware he was in prison - so perhaps someone reported his account, although he wasn't exactly subtle in what he posted). He said he'd wanted to leave me alone until he was released, but couldn't resist making contact with his new Facebook. 

AJR and I started messaging each other again. Now I was single, I was more receptive to responding. At this point, my best friend LD2 was in the process of finalising and submitting his PhD. I recall there was a lot of LD2, IN and I getting together, usually with drinks. One day I had issues with my wifi/mobile data and AJR arranged a top up for my phone. I was so grateful, I offered to send him some photographs as a thank you. This angered AJR as he had done it out of friendship, not to get 'favours'. I realised this man was genuine and exceptionally kind and caring. Our conversations grew more intense and we moved on to phone calls. It was on 10 August 2018 (the night LD2 finally finished his PhD and we celebrated the fact) that I decided I wanted to be with AJR. I was drunk that night and when I told him, he asked me to reconsider when sober, but I knew what I wanted (even though that night I was so drunk, following drinking an entire bottle of vodka while with LD2 and IN) that usually I'd completely doubt my judgment. I even forgot large chunks of the night. I cannot recall the sequence of events, but basically at this point, AJR and I would chat on the phone for hours on end and we began Facetiming (yes, in a sexy way!). I agreed I would visit him given he was less than 5 miles away from me! 

The visit was the first time I'd ever had a social (i.e. non-legal visit) with anyone. I was really scared, as 11 years had passed since I'd last seen AJR in person (despite our Facetiming and sharing photographs online). I was so anxious, I spent hours trying to find an appropriate outfit etc. I won't bother to go into detail about visits with AJR, save to say I was so nervous on the first one, I could barely even look at him and kept laughing. When things got 'romantic', prison officers were quick to step in, making it even more awkward. Our relationship progressed to the point that I'd visit AJR 3 - 4 times a week in addition to speaking every night, and eventually we told our families etc. There were ups and downs - as expected in any relationship - but I am sure you can understand the unique pressures of dating a life prisoner - the challenges for him (having spent his entire adult life and majority of teenage life in custody) and myself (lack of intimacy with someone I am in love with; the stigma other people try and impose upon finding out the nature of the relationship and dealing with judgment and curiosity; seeing his treatment within the prison system etc). 

AJR did not get parole in October. He got D Cat (open prison) and thereafter was unfortunately transferred back to closed prison before he ever got a home visit or time out of custody. These matters are private and still ongoing. The point is, AJR and I are in a committed relationship and don't allow the obstacles to cloud our future, even if we have to negotiate tough or impossible situations etc. 

I guess, there is one other thing I should mention - as a weird aspect of our relationship - before I reveal the 'mind-blowing dream'. Just after Christmas 2018 (AJR had recently been moved from open conditions back to a local closed prison) he told me we needed to break up because it was too difficult to cope with a relationship in our circumstances. Previously, we have had similar issues periodically. We never really argue at all - AJR just tries to distance himself from me, and given he is in control of most contact, the ball is always in his court (i.e. he can call me on the prison pin phone - if no mobile access is possible - but I cannot call him; I can write/email, but he can choose to ignore it; I don't book visits to compel him to see me if he indicates he does not want to). AJR never intends to hurt me; it's a form of protecting me and himself from potential emotional pain. 

Anyway, back in December/early January, the break up he instigates is hurting us both and our communication is virtually non-existent, although I am sometimes trying to tempt him to text me by sending messages. I am so depressed, every day is a struggle. AJR's mum tries to reassure me that he is in fight or flight mode and will come back when he is ready, as it's just a defence mechanism. I believe our relationship is 'meant to be' and concentrate on willing him to contact me and tell me he wants to be with me (I know he loves me, that is never in doubt). 

One day I was alone, walking across the field outside my house. Earlier that day, when smoking with DL, I'd said I thought Star Wars would be the thing that would bring us back together. AJR had never ever seen any Star Wars movie and thought it was really funny how much I love it. He was totally against it, thinking it was a weird, geeky sci fi thing. However, over Christmas, every one of the Star Wars movies was being shown in chronological order on TV, so AJR had agreed to watch them (usually with phone calls to me in between to explain stuff). He actually enjoyed many parts of this new experience and we could now discuss it at length. AJR is my Anakin, he shares many traits, such as impulsiveness; a fierce protection over people he loves, namely the women in his life; fearlessness etc. He also shares some physical characteristics, including a facial scar and skin/hair colour/height/build; and his legal name could be shortened to 'Ani' which he hates me pointing out. He doesn't use his legal name, he is literally 'AJR' to everyone. The age gap between us is the same as Anakin and Padme, and we reunited after many years apart, and I was initially resistant - you get the picture! AJR loves Padme, so it's kind of perfect that he enjoyed the prequels the most out of Episodes I - VI. Anyway, given AJR had been watching Star Wars, I knew any reference would remind him of me during our separation. While walking alone on this particular evening, having been smoking on the field, I began to focus on the idea that I could 'use the Force' to bring AJR back to me. I know it sounds stupid. I don't believe in fate or ESP or any kind of paranormal activity/powers. I was just desperate and using Star Wars as a way of positive thinking in the face of distress and trauma. It gave me something to set my mind on. I wondered if I should learn Buddhist chanting, as I'd read/heard that Courtney Love used this to focus on her goals and believed it worked for her. I got home. 

That evening, I got a random text from AJR - it wasn't in response to any of my previous, pleading texts, it simply told me to turn watch a particular TV channel. AJR finds it odd I don't own a TV, but when he wants me to watch something, he knows I can live stream it online (obviously, his understanding of modern technology has some limitations). I did so. The show in question was The Keith and Paddy Picture Show - the Star Wars: Return of the Jedi parody. I put it on and began to watch, amazed that my 'plan' seemed to have worked. However, I didn't know exactly how weird this experience was going to be. For context - AJR and I are very jokey and insulting towards one another. Sexual frustration means we tease each other a lot. I call him 'Mayonnaise Sandwich' and 'AJonnaise' and suchlike because he is so 'white'. I also call him a 'toxic male' and he calls me a 'female thing'. He bullies me about how my Middle Eastern heritage makes me hairy, calling me a 'Silverback Gorilla'. If I had to list 5 personality qualities for AJR, 'annoying' would be in there, but I love his annoyingness. One of it's manifestations is the constant teasing over eggs. I hate eggs, they repulse me. I can cook them for other people and I can eat them as an ingredient in other foods (i.e. cake or quiche even) but I'd never eat an actual egg. I also hate the idea that I produce something called an 'egg' and to be extra annoying, AJR calls me 'Yokeybear' as a term of endearment and a way of making me feel gross about eggs, either in their edible form, or the reproductive form have in my ovaries (ewww). Bear this strange feature of our relationship in mind, when I tell you the next bit of this story. So I was watching the Keith and Paddy parody of Star Wars, and AJR wasn't really texting me as such. I was excited to know he'd reached out and specifically, due to a factor I'd predicted and wished for. 

Then, there was the fight scene between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker (and the Emperor) on the Death Star. Both AJR and I have the same reservations about this scene - AJR because he thinks both Darth Vader and the Emperor die too easily for powerful Sith Lords. He hates the fact that canon or EU explains parts of the overarching story and ideology not contained within the movies, such as why Force Lightening was so dangerous to Darth Vader and how the Emperor may not have actually died when he was thrown down the reactor shaft (I think that's what it was? I can't be bothered to fact check the technology on top of this loooonnnngggg Storytime post). He thinks Darth Vader is depicted as far less powerful than his mythos and reputation would suggest (again, he dislikes that there is so much other material which actually depicts Darth Vader more 'badass' than the original trilogy does, as he has no access to this material - and Rogue One (containing the best Darth Vader scene from any of the movies) had not been shown on TV, so he hadn't seen a contemporary depiction of Darth Vader more inline with how he should be (better lightsaber skills; more force power on display etc). He also dislikes Luke Skywalker and doesn't understand how he was able to become such a powerful Jedi in such a short space of time (I mean - who doesn't think that?)

On screen, AJR and I - miles apart, watching the same show separately saw the scene where Luke removes Darth Vader's helmet. And in the parody version - Darth Vader's head was a boiled egg with a soldier!!! I have recently found a screenshot of this for AJR which I will print and mail to him, as we both love that this was the lynchpin which brought us back together. Seeing an image of my favourite Star Wars character - introduced to AJR only weeks before - have an egg for a head randomly, within the context of our jokes about eggs was 'a sign'. AJR was compelled to phone me and we got back together. I have posted the relevant screenshot below so you can understand. 


The Dream
So, the dream!

The other day, I wondered if I'd ever had a dream which involved AJR at any point within the 11 years we had been apart (or at least the portion of the 11 years during which I was recording my dreams on this Blog). When this Blog began it had already been a number of years since I'd last seen AJR. The reason I questioned whether I might have had a dream which referenced him was because I had always had a lasting memory of the escape list suit he'd worn when we first met - he's the only prisoner I've ever represented or seen in person wearing one. I know that over the years whenever anyone has mentioned prisoners wearing unusual regulation clothing I'd thought of/mentioned having a former client who was a young, very rebellious boy who'd been made to wear a really ugly outfit due to being an escape risk for making a hole in his cell wall. I was just curious. 

Having 962 dreams recorded on this Blog makes searching through the archives really difficult and time-consuming. I can do it using labels (not helpful, since these are broad and don't refer to specific dream content) or keywords featured in posts (more accurate, but potential to bring up large numbers of posts). I used the latter method. My first search term was 'prison' - this brought up a high number of posts. I then used 'prisoner', which only narrowed the search results down marginally. I then used 'escape'. This brought up much fewer potential results and I began to read through each relevant post. There is - the best of my knowledge and research here - only one relevant dream, which relates to AJR during the 'lost years'. It is Dream 70 (I didn't title my dreams at that point), dated 2 August 2012. I have posted the dream below. I hope you find the fact that my future true love (the man whose face I'd looked into and felt nothing - no flicker of potential or chemistry so many times, so many years ago) remained somewhere in my mind, popping up in my subconscious thoughts (i.e. my dream) years later as amazing as I do. Probably not, since I'm a random stranger on the internet and this is my life and therefore of peripheral or non-existent interest to anyone reading this. But, it fascinates me how I could have this dream and just accept it - a dream about a random man who I never ever thought I's see/hear from again, without fully questioning why. I didn't even remember his name properly, or remember his face clearly, just blurry, general details. I didn't wonder about the significance of the dream - why would I? But now, looking back with hindsight, it's impossible for me to not see this as something symbolic, imbued with meaning. It's probably nothing mystical, just one of those phenomenon which we pay attention to because we're actively searching for meaning or answers etc. But I'd like to think my subconscious dreamself was sending me a message about my future, as ridiculous (and apposite to my worldview and beliefs) as that sounds. Please enjoy my special dream, and comment below if you want to share any views on this post.

Dream 70

Original date: 2 August 2012
Original post location - click here
I was sitting at a computer, browsing the internet. I saw a picture of a red and yellow checked tablecloth, laid out on a table, and clicked on it to enlarge the image and get a better view. The image was captioned, but I am not sure if I read the caption, or just 'heard' the words being said to me (in my own head?) It was my auntie, VF. The caption said: "I didn't want to look at this picture, because I have synesthesia and it gave me the answer to a question I didn't want to know about" (I do not know if VF has synesthesia, although I myself do). I wondered what the question/answer was and in my mind, thought that it must be something to do with a vehicle (although neither myself nor VF actually drives). I also thought that it was strange that VF's synesthesia gave her 'questions and answers' whereas mine involves mere associations between random items.

I was then with my mum in the Two Lifeboats Hotel, Sheringham, our former workplace. The lighting was very dim - as if all the curtains in the room were drawn - as it was definitely daylight. We were joined by my mum's friend AB, who was dressed in the outfit she used to wear when she too worked there - a white top and a black skirt. AB entered the room from behind me and came to stand next to my mum. She was in a bad mood. She sat a short distance away from my mum and I, who had taken seats close by where we had been standing (which I think was next to the bar/doorway to the restaurant area). She was now talking to a young male, who I did not recognise in the dream, although I feel that his dream character represented someone I know in real-life. He was tall, with dark brown hair and was wearing a white baggy T-short and light brown baggy trousers with trainers. AB was going through some legal case papers with him - witness statements - in preparation for a criminal trial in which he was the defendant. My mum and I were undertaking another (in my 'dream opinion' - less important, quite boring) task in relation to the trial (this was odd, even to me in the dream, as I am the qualified lawyer and neither my mum nor AB have any real legal expertise, yet they were taking over and not letting me look at the paperwork properly or talk to the male). I asked if I could go through the case papers, but AB refused to let me and carried on 'advising' the male - who in the dream was not named, or I do not recall any name given to him. The male was then taken in a prison van - possibly to be conveyed to court. I dd not see him get in the prison van - I had a mental image of it driving away, with him in the back, just visible behind grey metal bars (it did not look like the G4 prison vans I am used to seeing in real-life, more like one seen in movies, less secure and more 'military'). My mum and AB told me that now it was my turn to take over the case and work out a way to defend the male and win his liberty. I was fairly pleased, but also disappointed that I could not discuss the case face-to-face with the male. I was also annoyed that my mum and AB were leaving me behind and I assumed that they were going to court to watch the trial without me, having 'dumped' the work on me to complete). I went back onto the computer - which was now clearly a laptop. I was sitting on the floor of a bedroom, next to a bed with a colourful duvet. The lights were very bright - like a bare 100watt bulb was illuminating the room. It was not a room I recognise from real-life. I logged onto my Facebook page, to write a message of support for the incarcerated male and try to get others to join the campaign to free him - but I decided that in my status update, I should remove all vowel letters from the sentence I was typing. I typed 'RFFLSS' and posted this on my 'wall'. I have no idea what it means.

Contemporaneous notes/analysis which appeared at the bottom of the original post of the dream, explaining/interpreting specific details:
* At the time, I did not pick up on this, but the red and yellow checked design on the tablecloth seen in the first scene of the dream is the same as a 'prison escapee' suit (known amongst prisoners by various names) which prisoners who have made attempts to escape are forced to wear (i.e. think of the stereotype of the prisoner - in black and white stripes/arrows design or in bright orange - to make them stand out as prisoners amongst other civilians). When I worked in a law firm, I used to regularly visit/represent a prisoner (can't remember his full name, so I'll call him 'A') who was notorious for trying to break out of prison - he was often dressed in the blue and yellow 'clown suit' which would make us laugh at how silly he looked. Although the colours here were different, I understood the red/yellow checked design was 'the same' as the blue/yellow - I had a strong realisation of this upon waking. 

The following images are Google search results for 'prison E-List' suits. The 2 I have posted are exactly the same colours /style as the one I saw AJR wearing when we first met. I think the pattern is a combination of both shown (i.e. his was checked, so there were 4 panels), but I'd have o ask him to clarify this for definite. From my memory, his was most similar to the bottom image, but you can get a very accurate impression from both images.


Of further note is the fact that since meeting AJR again, my views on marriage and children have changed. I want to marry him and start a family. In the above dream (Dream 70), the male dream character does not necessarily match AJR's description, particularly the hair colour. 

You will recall (if you bothered to read the above Storytime) that AJR and I used to discuss Eminem a lot in prison visits. AJR was a massive Eminem fan and has told me (recently - not sure if he told me in the past) that he used to bleach his hair to look more like Eminem (AJR is more facially handsome than Eminem but there are similarities between them). 

My dreams always appeared to reflect my resistance to marriage and family life. It is something I have referred to numerous times on this Blog. However, the only 'dream character' I ever felt a strong connection towards (in the sense of wanting marriage and family life with him) was Eminem. I always thought this was odd, as I had never been particularly attracted to Eminem (nor a huge fan of his). 

The main dream in this respect dates back to 23 May 2015 and is Dream 443 - 'Will the Real Mrs Slim Shady Please Stand Up?!' I was so fascinated by my desire for Eminem within this dream, that it inspired a dream incubation experiment - Dream Incubation Experiment - Eminem/Marshall Mathers III Dream. Back when this dream incubation experiment took place I did not consider using an index system so that all relevant dreams taking place during the course of the particular experiment were recorded in one place. The Dream Incubation Experiment post linked above does have an index of Eminem dreams which took place prior to the experiment (so, including Dream 443), but in order to move forwards and read the dreams taking place within the duration of the experiment itself, simply go to the bottom of the Dream Incubation Experiment post page and click on left hand side link - 'Newer Posts'. There are also Youtube videos I have made relating to updates on this experiment if you are interested. They are linked on posts relating to the Eminem Dream Incubation Experiment. 

Given there is an association between AJR and Eminem - could my dreams of one true love with Eminem have been precognitive in any way? I guess I'm asking this ironically, but I am being honest when I say deep-diving into my subconscious like this makes me question the subconscious and dreaming in ways I may not usually do.

Sunday, 21 June 2015

Stream of Consciousness (1) - TAT Cards

As a writer and dream analyst I was keen to undertake some stream of consciousness/free association work. This is a technique used by Sigmund Freud as part of the psychoanalytical method of dream interpretation. The concept is that the individual should facilitate a spontaneous, continuous and unadulterated stream of thoughts, ideas, emotional responses, memories and associations to flow. There should be no attempt to control or 'censor' the flow of material.

These stream of consciousness exercises were originally posted as a stand-alone page on this Blog. However, after careful consideration I decided to update the format which involved removing some content which was not in keeping with the theme of this Blog. I have decided to re-post the stream of consciousness content on the main Blog home page as it is relevant to my study of dreams and dreaming and is a particularly valuable exercise to learn when interpreting dreams.

In addition, some of my favourite artists use this technique in their writing - from the obvious examples of James Joyce and Virginia Woolfe, to hip hop MC, Ghostface Killah, whose style is said to be characterised by a stream of consciousness flow.

I was also interested in Thematic Apperception Testing, which is a psychological method of picture interpretation which is said to demonstrate the subject's inner thoughts, emotions and social relationships. This form of test was shown in my favourite film, A Clockwork Orange (1971) as a way of measuring the psychological profile of anti-hero Alex whilst he is sentenced to imprisonment for murder.  

TAT is a form of ‘projective’ psychological testing - was developed by the American psychologist Henry A. Murray and Christiana D. Morgan at the Harvard Clinic at Harvard University during the 1930s. A widely held belief is that the idea for the TAT emerged from a question asked by one of Murray's undergraduate students, Cecilia Roberts.  She reported that when her son was ill, he spent the day making up stories about images in magazines and she asked Murray if pictures could be employed in a clinical setting to explore the underlying dynamics of personality. Murray wanted to use a measure that would reveal information about the whole person but found the contemporary tests of his time lacking in this regard. Therefore, he created the TAT. The rationale behind the technique is that people tend to interpret ambiguous situations in accordance with their own past experiences and current motivations, which may be conscious or unconscious. Murray reasoned that by asking people to tell a story about a picture, their defences to the examiner would be lowered as they would not realize the sensitive personal information they were divulging by creating the story.

Murray and Morgan spent the 1930s selecting pictures from illustrative magazines and developing the test. After 3 versions of the test (Series A, Series B, and Series C), Morgan and Murray decided on the final set of pictures, Series D, which remains in use today. After World War II, the TAT was adopted more broadly by psychoanalysts and clinicians to evaluate emotionally disturbed patients. 

The TAT is popularly known as the picture interpretation technique because it uses a series of provocative yet ambiguous pictures about which the subject is asked to tell a story. The subject is asked to tell as dramatic a story as they can for each picture presented, including the following:

  • what has led up to the event shown
  • what is happening at the moment
  • what the characters are feeling and thinking
  • what the outcome of the story was

If these elements are omitted, particularly for children or individuals of low cognitive abilities, the evaluator may ask the subject about them directly. Otherwise, the examiner is to avoid interjecting and should not answer questions about the content of the pictures. 

The examiner records stories verbatim for later interpretation. The complete version of the test contains 31 picture cards. Some of the cards show male figures, some female, some both male and female figures, some of ambiguous gender, some adults, some children, and some show no human figures at all. One card is completely blank and is used to elicit both a scene and a story about the given scene from the storyteller. 

Although the cards were originally designed to be matched to the subject in terms of age and gender, any card may be used with any subject. Although Murray recommended using 20 cards, most practitioners choose a set of between 8 and 12 selected cards, either using cards that they feel are generally useful, or that they believe will encourage the subject's expression of emotional conflicts relevant to their specific history and situation. However, the examiner should aim to select a variety of cards in order to get a more global perspective of the storyteller and to avoid confirmation bias (i.e. finding only what you are looking for).

When he created the TAT, Murray also developed a scoring system based on his need-press theory of personality. However, implementing this scoring system is time-consuming and was not widely used. Rather, examiners have traditionally relied on their clinical intuition to come to conclusions about storytellers.

Although not widely used in the clinical setting, several formal scoring systems have been developed for analyzing TAT stories systematically and consistently. Two common methods that are currently used in research are the:

  • Defence Mechanisms Manual (DMM). This assesses three defence mechanisms: denial (least mature), projection (intermediate), and identification (most mature). A person's thoughts/feelings are projected in stories involved.
  • Social Cognition and Object Relations (SCOR) scale. This assesses four different dimensions of object relations: Complexity of Representations of People, Affect-Tone of Relationship Paradigms, Capacity for Emotional Investment in Relationships and Moral Standards, and Understanding of Social Causality.

Examiners are encouraged to explore information obtained from the TAT stories as hypotheses for testing rather than concrete facts.

Like other projective techniques, the TAT has been criticized on the basis of poor psychometric properties. Criticisms include that the TAT is unscientific because it cannot be proved to be valid (that it actually measures what it claims to measure), or reliable (that it gives consistent results over time). As stories about the cards are a reflection of both the conscious and unconscious motives of the storyteller, it is difficult to disprove the conclusions of the examiner and to find appropriate behavioural measures that would represent the personality traits under examination. In addition, as the present needs of the storyteller change over time, it is not expected that later stories will produce the same results.

The lack of standardization of the cards given and scoring systems applied is problematic because it makes comparing research on the TAT very difficult. With a dearth of sound evidence and normative samples, it is tough to determine how much useful information can be gathered in this manner.

Some critics of the TAT cards have observed that the characters and environments are dated, even ‘old-fashioned,’ creating a ‘cultural or psycho-social distance’ between the patients and the stimuli that makes identifying with them less likely. Also, in researching the responses of subjects given photographs versus the TAT, researchers found that the TAT cards evoked more ‘deviant’ stories (i.e., more negative) than photographs, leading researchers to conclude that the difference was due to the differences in the characteristics of the images used as stimuli. In a 2005 dissertation, Matthew Narron, Psy.D. attempted to address these issues by reproducing a Leopold Bellak 10 card set photographically and performing an outcome study. 

The results concluded that the old TAT elicited answers that included many more specific time references than the new TAT. Despite criticisms, the TAT remains widely used as a tool for research into areas of psychology such as dreams, fantasies, mate selection and what motivates people to choose their occupation. 

Sometimes it is used in a psychiatric or psychological context to assess personality disorders, thought disorders, in forensic examinations to evaluate crime suspects, or to screen candidates for high-stress occupations. It is also commonly used in routine psychological evaluations, typically without a formal scoring system, as a way to explore emotional conflicts and object relations. TAT is widely used in France and Argentina using a psychodynamic approach. Due to the test's popularity and importance within psychology, the TAT has appeared in a wide variety of media. 

The Thomas Harris novel Red Dragon includes a scene where the imprisoned psychiatrist and serial killer Dr. Hannibal Lecter mocks a previous attempt to administer the test to him while Michael Crichton included the TAT in the battery of tests given to the disturbed patient and main character Harry Benson in his novel, The Terminal Man. The test is also given to the main characters in two widely-differing tales about the human mind: the aforementioned cult classic, A Clockwork Orange and Daniel Keyes's Flowers for Algernon. Italian poet Edoardo Sanguineti wrote a collection of poetry called T.A.T (1966–1968) that refers to the Test.

Therefore, I decided to find as many of the TAT images online and conduct the test myself as a stream of conscious exercise in line with guidance found on various websites and Blogs, which recommends looking at the given image and then writing (in line with the information given above on the suggested technique) in stream of consciousness mode for approximately 10 minutes, recording whatever comes to mind. I took this to mean continuous writing, although other Blog authors who have conducted the same experiment themselves seem to write very little, sometimes one or two poetic sentences. I tried to keep the idea of a ‘story’ in mind, as this is what Murray intended, and therefore my language is simply the words as they emerged in my mind – If something is written erroneously or grammatically incorrect, so be it – that is the nature of stream of consciousness writing – it is unedited in the flow of associations, thoughts and ideas on the page and not intended to be polished and ‘literary’ per se. I may be telling you this to simply excuse some terrible writing :) 

I will also add that I do not know which set of pictures I am using, as Google is not necessarily accurate in labelling and I wanted to get started with the exercise rather than spending large amounts of time searching through articles on the internet (I do enough of that for my studies/work!) to find exactly which cards were selected by which researched. Instead I will simply use whichever images seem to be popular on credible sites/Blogs when searching for TAT. I will post the image and the stream of consciousness text as soon as I complete each, but unfortunately I am not best placed to analyse my results – that is for my readers to do!!! Any feedback would be gratefully received. 

TAT IMAGE 1


The two women are in the lab, both middle-aged and living in a working-class area of England - it is not the present, but rather several decades back. Both women are married and live ordinary lives, but they are employed by a laboratory in a factory to conduct experiments into food product flavouring. The woman in the background is the supervisor of the woman in the foreground, undertaking the experiment. Their names are Maude and Judy, respectively. Maude doesn't really care for Judy, as you can see from the expression on her face. She feels that she is not serious in her work and is fickle. Judy is slightly younger than Maude and has been married for less time. She feels that her youth has slipped away from her and that she has nothing exciting or vibrant in her life. She regrets settling for married life when she could have had a career in science. On this particular day, Maude is anxious as there is a deadline to achieve - the women must complete their tests by the afternoon, but Judy is in a strange mood and can't concentrate, her mind seems to be wandering. Instead of taking her break for a cup of tea, Maude is forced to stand over Judy to ensure that Judy is getting her work done, and is constantly snapping at her and reprimanding her for her sloppy work. At one point Judy looks like she will burst into tears. She cannot tell Maude that she is worried because she found a syringe in her only son's bedroom, in a paper bag under his bed. She doesn't know how to ask him whether he is using heroin. There is a lack of communication between the women and as a result, the work assignment is not completed by the deadline and Maude is given a written warning from their employer. This makes her relationship with Judy even worse, as in her 15 years of working for the factory she has never once been disciplined for her conduct or supervision of other staff. She only tells Judy about the written warning when Judy is in the canteen, moaning about her husband Franky, who has a gambling problem and never helps around the house. Judy only married Franky because she accidently fell pregnant with her son, Roy. Maude has never understood how Judy is able to express her dissatisfaction with her marriage with such ease in front of work colleagues, some of whom are virtual strangers. Yes, she has had her fair share of problems in her own marriage - her husband Dirk is no angel, he isn't opposed to walloping her over the head with the television remote control or pushing his half full glass from the end table in frustration at her if she dare to say something 'silly'. That's just the way men are, she thinks. They hate a woman with a good career.

TAT IMAGE 2


Colin gave the regular impression of possessing more fingers than possible for the normal human hand. His mother, Norma Jeane, named after Marilyn, but born before her, by only a year, indicating that her birth certificate might have been altered some time after her previous registration by another name, wore bat sleeves to cover her bat hands, hands bad from years on the broom. Looking out at the green green avenue at low morning, the sky is a light Tuesday grey-blue, with a light cloud and maybe some rain. Long playing-fields, grass commons, sycamore trees and low walls of stone. It’s the outskirts of London, the 1970s or 1908s, both will live into the 1990s for sure, but not Colin if he goes worse wrong than now. She looks older than she really is - or maybe she doesn’t and it’s a trick of the light. Colin was a graduate from some seaside university or college or the other, a Mrs Robinson lover type, so slick and smooth as he stood there, Teddy Boy swag, passive-aggressive self scowling internally from his stomach to his cheek, as his mother curtain-twitched the neighbourhood day in day out, anxious about the jibber-jabber of the gossip-mongerers in town who might whisper dirty words about her precious son, just back from the cold grim grime of the prison yard, and standing in her 1920-style (art deco? Maybe it was, maybe it was some other historical movement or era she was recreating in the house near the corner shop and the railway line, quaint when it’s sunny out) living-room, staring black hell into the carpet, but silent forever silent. Mrs Hubbard, that was her last name and how people would talk to her, was not a popular woman, people said she was a lunatic, but she wasn’t really, she was just ‘simple’ or whatever euphemism you can use for retarded nowadays, that was what she was, not a bad, nasty woman, just had some trouble comprehending what the modern world was about. Colin didn’t live in the modern world either – the two of them would spend their days, with her looking outward at a landscape unknown to her little eye on the inside, all worry and strife about what might be said, what might be heard, and Colin on the inside too, but looking inside more, as if he was looking into his mother’s womb or her cerebral cortex or her lungs. He wasn’t interested in what went on outside the window, he was stewing a hate and repressing an eruption, so nearly an erection, one hair breadth away, besides he was on probation and couldn’t go through all that again, cell share, stench of overflow, semen in the showers, the innuendos and jibes and the revenge-eyed screws, no way, Jose, coin a phrase, write a jingle and sell it for a million quid to a record label. Ex-con. He would continue to stare in as his mother stared out and hung her head in shame, many fingered man.

TAT IMAGE 3


He was the kind of man who didn’t connect well to the living, was William Honest, a man who couldn’t live up to the name with which he was burdened. He wanted to drive a Jaguar, but he had a Fiat. He lived on a street where punks crackpiped it until dawn, with no let up. That’s why he chose to visit whore, or lady friends as he referred to them, when taking tea in the conservatory and miming over paragraphs in books he dare not lose himself because he wasn’t that type of man. He held his head in shame, oh squalid bedsit in shady part of town, why come to hell everyday just to get let out and walk back in. She looks dead, but that’s just valium, she always takes it right before and after to wash clean the membrane before dreamless sleep. He wishes he could sleep, insomniac and scared of doctors, he will go back to his two up two down and eat biscuits to make his face smile again with the evening news, oh no it’s war again, another cup of tea, almost a coup and no casualty. There are pine trees in the garden and he will never know, but that whore’s favourite song was Venus as a Boy, by Bjork, she loved that song and so did Kate Moss, I read it in an article once, Just 17. She tried to make the bedsit better with pictures on the wall and books on a bedside cabinet she never bought herself, but William knew she wasn’t an intellect, like him, as in he wasn’t either, both just average people. He would come (cum) on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Saturdays and she would let him sit in the window seat and drink milk (milky) and watch sports on the small telly. Talking about what it was like in maths class once and the beach would crash in and crash out behind the window. She liked to play dead on weekdays and he was grateful not to have to small-talk her fears away once ejaculate and withdraw and outwards into rain without pay sometimes, pay double the next, he was on Job Seekers Allowance, small time theft on side, handle stolen goods, make small wage, that’s why it’s funny his name is Honest, I told you. He met her on a Bank Holiday Monday – what does that matter when both jobless and on the drink mid-morning – he was not a drunk, he was out in the City, I mean London City, financial capital, some days, all sober mind, shiny-shoe look-for-work, but now it was filth in crap-floor, carpet-grot council flat-upon-sea-cliff. Half-way home – has she got pre cons, marks on the arm – traintracks! No, trackmarks! Anything that shouts ‘disease’? Of the mind is alright, we can all handle a bit of madness if there’s some fun attached somewhere along the line. It’s a Shotter’s Nation, THAT was the album he was listening to in the disco, or parts of it, could have been a fancy house party. Yeah he doesn’t mind a tiny bit of madness if he can stick it in.

TAT IMAGE 4 


There was something off-putting about the room, the way the shadow jumped out in front of Rancid’s head, and the slimy things which slivered, slithered out from under the bed. Rancid thought there was something of the Grecian Goddess about her, she dressed that way and liked to bring on her own tragedy. Bertram thought he was an army soldier, but it was mainly just delusion, his brain had seizures since the brawl in the pub toilets. Bertram and Rancid are married, or at least they are pretending to be, now that they live in a different town. Rancid is distraught because Bertram doesn’t love her anymore. He complains about everything and likes to leave the house and eat fish without her. She never gets to leave the house anymore, unless she is taking the baby to the playground outside the flat. She cries because Bertram likes to drink and be nihilistic in all ways, but none. He watches films that she does not like and he hates the tiles she has laid down for the kitchen floor. She is crying because he is a nasty person and he likes to drink so much that he passes out and then the bad things happen in the room. The light outside the window isn’t right and the door handle elongates beyond natural proportions in Rancid’s hand. She wonders is she is a person created by Stephen King, or real flesh and blood, because sometimes in this house it is hard to tell. She is wearing the Grecian Goddess dress today, because today is the day for making or baking bread and Bertram is drunk out of head on Scotch and he is lying in his military gear, and the house is just crumbling paint and debris around the ruins. They will play Scrabble later and she has to let him win and then they might do some crafts together on the big long table or he will go out at dusk by himself to play on the arcade machines in the town centre – the town could be Cromer, that’s how it looks now, or bigger, Great Yarmouth. It is cold and grey out and it is windy. Bertram will get a chill if he doesn’t wear a jacket. It’s earlier than he thought, the shops are still open and he can go out and buy things. Rancid is still at home, she is standing by the sculpture, screaming, because they were both alone together the whole time.

TAT IMAGE 5


If you look, the latter back man, the one to the right, slightly left, he has one arm missing, it was sawn off at the elbow, he was one of these people who have a fetish about amputation, he asked for it to be done, the circus freak, the other man, little bit more to the front, is his uncle, he shares the name Nathan Barley with a telly character, but he is not the same person, instead he is a butcher. He is cutting a man up, or at least that’s what he wants amputee Richendo to think, instead he is just sticking pins like Hellraiser in him, saying it’s a treatment for whatever ailment Darian has, but it is not clear, as he did not ask for this treatment, it has been forced on him as a demonstration of some sort. Notice the window to the left back of the room, behind Machos’ head? It is very crooked, like something went wrong in there, that laboratory or wherever this crude doctory is actualising itself, it maybe some lock-up in East London. Machos is an orphan and he stumbled into this place, he used to sell matchsticks on the corner, and how his skeletal is bent out of all normalness. He looks all misplaced. His face is rather anxious about something, but he doesn’t see what is behind him. He sees that the bad man – that is Nathan Barley, has brought a gun, and leant it against the wall. Machos hates guns, he once shot some flowers in a flower patch and felt guilty about his impact on the natural world. He does not know who possesses the gun and that gives him a sense of dread. His face is twitching. He hears reggae music in the back and the screams of Darian, silenced by palm on mouth. He is dressed as a posh schoolboy, but he does not attend school and he is learning nothing from being in the presence of Nathan Barley, in fact he would be more of less inclined to commit suicide if Nathan Barley tried to take him under his wing, he has bad intentions of more or less everyone with whom he crosses paths, not that he walks on the right side of the road. He likes to minimalise or trivialise his risk upon society, but in truth he is very psychopathic, his nephew fears him greatly and can see that if Machos does not leave soon, he might well be butchered up and put away to decompose.

TAT IMAGE 6


Rebecca is a simple girl who works in the fields for a living, but she wants to improve herself. She joins a library and enrols at the community college to undertake a course in literary appreciation, but she is falling behind with the coursework as her family constantly burden her with plough work in the hot son. Rebecca is in love with her cousin Jove, who also works the fields. Jove is a pseudo intellect who preaches of his struggles in the Russian mafia, all lies, but his family allow him to live through his delusions without offering resistance or disbelief. Jove will break Rebecca - he is conducting an elicit affair with another woman in the village, a Mrs Roper, who works behind the counter in the post office. Rebecca has no indication and daydreams of running away with Jove to a land far away from their Mid Western homeland where they can start a family without the intrusion of their relatives who would surely disapprove of their alliance. Rebecca plays the flute and the accordian well - she was raised in a musical family, one where every child is expected to entertain the elders at every social gathering. The family also keep geese. Rebecca's mother, Old Aids, makes a beautiful cauliflower soup with the produce from the garden. There is no telivision or internet and no-one knows or cares for the latest fashions. Rebecca wants to visit New York and Miami. Her dreams will be made on the East Coast and there her plough experience will be obsolete and her knowledge of ee cummings praised over peanut butter sandwiches and pizza slices, with Jove by her side.

TAT IMAGE 7


Jacent was a nasty boy - he dressed as Christ in robes of ochre and deemed himself completely superior to all and sundry, including his adoptive family. The adoptive family had bought him at a child auction, back in the days of the Cold War and he had never matured beyond the age of 9 years - he was stuck, stuck, stuck in a rut and declined to climb out of his own accord. He had been made by his adoptive mother, Molly Lips, to visit various child psychiatrists in Germany (where they are allegedly more educated, according to Mrs Lips) and none of them could diagnose his disorder or even hazard a guess at what was troubling the boy. He would fly into rages and try and strangle anyone who dared to cross his path or ask him what the matter was. He would break anything in the room within his moderate reach, throwing it against the porcelain walls of the house Mr Lips had sculpted out of glass for his family - he was a glassblower by trade, but had changed career and was now an unsuccessful architect, living off benefits in the council house they had been allocated at the end of the row, when their fragile porcelain house smashed to unhelpful smithereens one Sunday morning when Jacent was riling against his late breakfast. If one of the neighbours dared to complain of Jacent's unruly antics - such as his tipping water on electrical circuits or scratching swastikas into the paintwork of cars parked on the street, he would pummel their children, urinate on their property, set fire to pets - anything to relieve the burning rage which permeated his sorry being. Mrs Lips was advised by the last psychiatrist she consulted - a Mr Hans Lieber - that she should purchase for Jacent, a toy; a life-size doll, named Veronique, which he could use as a punching bag to work out his misogynistic fury. Jacent dressed Veronique as his double and beat her savagely day and night.  

TAT IMAGE 8


Montegra was a very pernicious girl - she tried her best to capture the heart of the desirable local stud, Elmo, who was in a long-term unrequited mutual fixation with another girl - Sabbatical. At college, where they were learning the theory of the liberal arts, Montegra would lunge for Elmo, trying to kiss his dry red lips, which she thought looked like wilting red roses in the garden. Elmo would extend cruel words to burn Montegra's soul, but she would not be dissauded from her quest to marry Elmo, whose family - in the artichoke trade - was said to be one of the wealthiest in East London. The situation came to a head on 'India Day' when the students were asked to dress in national costume and perform dances for local residents. Backstage, the tension between Montegra, Elmo and Sabbatical was building. Montegra was pretending that she was totally unaware of the other two persons' feelings towards her. Sabbatical was anxious, because she was bitterly jealous of Montegra's gold sari and glass bangles. Elmo had not bothered to come in costume - he was not one for authority or abiding by rules, it was in his blood to rebel. He was desperate to consumate his lengthy admiration of Sabbatical, today - he was also not one to be patient and wait for miracles. But the presence of Montegra and her unwaning passions and desires was proving to be an obstacle to the satiation of his sexual lust for Sabbatical. When Montegra tried to grope him behind the curtain, he tried to pull away, but she caught his wrist in a death-grip, telling him she loved him and she was a better match for him than the shy and introverted Sabbatical. Sabbatical was watching from some distance away and could not hear what was being said. She thought she might stop breathing or brain hemorrhage if this didn't stop.