Sea Lion Goldfish

Well, it's dream time again.  Last night's dream was so disturbing I will only cope with the day ahead if I share it with the world. Those who know me well will know that I have a goldfish. I used to have more than one but this one (Fred) is now 12 years old and has survived multiple moves and has steadily grown in size down the years. I currently house him in a globe style tank with several amenities. He's not got a bad life has Fred. Overnight he turned into a sea lion. Let me explain.

I'm feeling slightly under the weather again today (sore throat etcl) and when I am not feeling 100% my dreams always appear to be more anxiety driven. During my REM (Rapid Eye Movement, I used to know a lad who hilariously thought it was an acronym for Rapid Ear Movement) sleep this morning, I returned home to find that the fish tank had grown considerably and so had Fred. I thought maybe I was imagining things then the next day he grew again, as did the tank, and so on and so on. Eventually, one day I got home to find he had leapt out of his now enormous tank, was now the size of a sea lion (with his original face and colouring) and had grown legs.

As I tried to catch him he threw himself back in the tank again and was using his new sea lion goldfish legs to swim around.  I decided to leave him to it and watched the television for a while.  I then decided to switch the television on (sorry, old gag I know). Finally, he threw himself out of the tank again. I'd tired of him now so tried to grab him in an attempt to heave him back in the tank. OK, after this catharsis I feel a little better now. 

Peace Plea

17th century; Tudor to Stuart; plantation in Ulster
Seeds are sown laying trouble ahead
Displaced subjects in the Emerald Isle
Cause and effect would leave thousands dead

Praying to one God but divided in belief
Bigotry blinding the faithful's sight
All wrongs blamed on the other side
Neither believes they cannot be right

Famine; one million starve, another million leave
Centuries old disputes fester in bad blood
A rising at Easter, men imprisoned and shot
While thousands lay dying in world war mud

A war of independence and a border created
Each side entrenched like never before
Civil war in the Free State; Collins is killed
Can this ravaged isle take any more ?

An uneasy peace until the late 60s
Civil rights protests and order breaks down
Bloodshed and violence return once more
Hearts broken again in every city and every town

This beautiful land's history still stains the present
Troubles still threaten but much work has been done
Each new generation must find the common ground
Where lies lasting peace without the bomb and the gun

Gale Force Humiliation

In my first year at high school, aged 11, I had the daily task of a half hour walk to and from my school through less than salubrious areas. Sometimes I would have a couple of mates for company or occasionally I would walk solo. I was small for my age (I still am) but this didn't prevent me from lugging my school books in a large Adidas bag. My spindly arms would struggle with the weight and by the time I reached the school gates I would give the appearance of having been dragged through a hedge backwards (my appearance hasn't changed).

One particular winter's day, there was a huge storm blowing through Manchester and I had to make the arduous walk home all alone. The tempest was literally taking my breath away. I staggered along with my homework laden bag. My route home took me over a canal bridge and as I approached I could hear a group of girls from my school walking behind me. They were older than me and maybe15 or 16 years old.

I wasn't the most confident of boys and my 11 years old self-esteem wasn't the highest. As I crossed the canal bridge a huge gust of wind hit me side on and literally blew me off my feet. I crashed into the side wall of the bridge still gripping onto my bag. As I hit the ground the bag landed on top of me, leaving my sparrow like legs sticking out underneath..I could now hear the hysterical giggling of the aforementioned girls who were now standing over me laughing and pointing at my perilous situation. Not one of them helped pull the bag off me.

I managed to wriggle free of my bag and stumble back on to my feet. The girls remarks included "eh, kid, that's one of the funniest things I've ever seen" and "aww, look at the size of him, if we blow on him he might fall over again. hahahaha " etc etc. They continued their journey still laughing hysterically. I stood my ground for a minute or 2 to count my bruises and compose myself. I reached home with a feeling of total humiliation.

The humiliation didn't quite end there either as, over the next few months, if any of those girls saw me they would shout "eh you! you're the little fart that blew over in the wind aren't yer?!" and so on. It didn't mentally scar me for life....honest.