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entry 71 - 18th March 02
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death I had a knife and I stabbed this bloke right between his two lower ribs, then I dragged the knife up, through the bone of his sternum, then through his collarbone, then actually up his neck, then somehow up through his jawbone, then right around his mouth - under his nose - then back down through his jaw and down the other side of his neck. Then I pulled the knife out and stabbed him repeatedly and rapidly, about ten times, in his windpipe.
The nightmare was so horrible that it actually made me get out of bed and go and sit in the lounge. It was one of those ones that stay with you fairly vividly for about twenty minutes before gradually dissolving away back into the dreamtime. It's obvious now that the bloke was Tim-tom, and that
the knife was the helicopter, but the thing that really disturbs me about
the dream was the sheer pleasure I felt during the act. I'm going to kill Tim-tom, yes. But I actually WANT to kill him. I'm obviously feeling guilty about that little distinction somewhere deep down. Oh well, fuck it. He started it.
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And
that's when I woke up.
