God bless you Kenneth Branagh

For the last few nights I've been waking just after three-ay-em on some odd numbered minute, suddenly and gasping for air as if in my sleep I’d forgotten to breathe. It feels as though my heart stops… and I panick: hot white panick and I am bright awake. It takes me maybe forty-five minutes, curled-in-a-ball-on-the-floor, muscles twitching to calm down enough to sleep. In fact I've found a safe and drug free method to do this that might peak the curiosity of you holistic medicos and aficionados out there. I've found that by watching the BBC’s documentary Walking with Dinosaurs I can fall asleep with in the hour. There is something about Kenneth Branagh’s voice I think that soothes me, calms me down and rocks me to sleep… I’m not sure what it is or why it works, but it works and so I go with it. Maybe further research is warranted, although not by me. At times like this I try not to think about it too much. Thinking is the problem; thinking just loops around and accelerates until sub-thought particles reach just sub-light speed.

Did you know that death is odd numbered?

I’ve been dreaming a lot too. I can’t remember them all that clearly (although the previous post is an example of one) but when I wake up the following morning I feel like I’ve barely slept. Then over the day I find myself being hit with multiple sensations of déjà vu, feelings of having seen and heard it all before, in a dream, some mundane dream derived from equally mundane precognitive powers. Or perhaps it's a side effect of working an endlessly repetitive day job: a job that's the intellectual equivalent of a brain slip-sliding about on wet concrete. That as a coping mechanism my subconscious is repressing my memories albeit with a small amount of seepage, that in fact I have seen and done it all again and again and again.

Note to self: I must think about buying Walking with Beasts. Again God bless you Kenneth Branagh.