Straggling thoughts
Two days into my study regime and 32 to go. Maximum sighs. I had a dream last night my mother had to pick one toy and one book from all my childhood toys that were in storage. They were the one toy and one book that to her best represented my childhood and was most nostalgic. But we couldn't choose, and ended up carrying everything with us around the city.
I don't know what this means. I'm always torn between my cynicism and my curiosity when it comes to dream analysis. I have such vivid dreams, every night and especially in the morning just before I wake up. And I want to believe that they mean something and if I analysed them right, I could have an insight into my psychology or soul. But also I think that dream analysis is probably mostly lies. Like me and religion I guess. I want to believe but I just can't make myself do it. The brain is too logical and cynical. It's possibly a shame.
I was thinking about writing something. I imagined something and wanted to describe it. But when I did, every phrase came straight of of literary cliche or a book I'd read or a movie I'd seen. It was sad.
And now a book review. Fingersmith. Read it, bitches. If you like a) extremely well written novels b) Intense drama and intrigue c) historical lesbians then this is the novel for you. Even if you don't like these things, it is still the novel for you. It is the people's novel. Do it.