My bus driver looks exactly like H.G. Nelson. With sunglasses.

Of late my dreams have been leaving strange little puddles on the floor of my daytime mind. Finland. Friendly mice — mice are very very nice, 2 or 3 suffice, they’re alright. Giving a woman oral and digital pleasure. A chance meeting with Geoff Lynne which became a really terrible interview, mostly due to me knowing nothing about ELO.
Me: And .. so, then you started doing stuff with The Travelling Wilburys…?
He was very distraught about something – on the verge of crying. What the hell is it about my subconscious and messed-up pop stars?

I had to go back to the institution today. Didn’t go very well. Shoelaces kept getting untied. On seperate occasions two people stopped me to tell me I had big candles of bright green snot coming out of my nose and extending to the top of my lip.
Then at hometime I accidentally got on bus no.17 instead of 16 and ended up going somewhere and I don’t know where it was. Eventually everyone else got off and I still couldn’t see my house yet. The scenery started to get sparse, then gave out completely. The bus stopped, the doors opened and the driver looked around at me, so I got out.
It was a blank white space.

One thought on “My bus driver looks exactly like H.G. Nelson. With sunglasses.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.