Sweet Painted Lady, seems it's always been the same, getting paid for being laid, guess that's the name of the game, oh.

I feel like everyone's interrogating my plans and not listening. I don't want plan interrogation, I just want the freedom to follow them. I know what I want to do (theatre school) is ridiculous, but even so, I feel young enough to give it a go. I'm not stupid. I know I could end up eking out a living as a god forsaken temp between incredibly infrequent roles, if any, but I can't help it. I just want it. I've said only once how badly I want it, and when I did I couldn't stop saying it. I don't want to seem that stupid again. It felt good to say it to someone though, to say I want this, this is me and this is what I feel, even though it didn't get me anywhere. Usually I don't say what I mean or what I feel but I did and it was good to feel it.

I had a dream a while ago about the Lady of the House. She was looking after a baby, and we were in town. It wasn't a child from either of us, we were looking after it; she was, anyway. She had a pushchair and an umbrella and all the paraphernalia that goes with children, and she said, look after the baby for a bit, I'm just going to do some things. We were meant to meet on a bus, but she was late, and though I had the baby I'd somehow lost everything that belonged to it; the baby was clothed and fine, but the pushchair and umbrella were gone. I can't remember if she was upset or not, but we did get on a bus, though I can't recall if it was the right one.

I never have lucid dreams, I never realise I'm dreaming. I get caught up in it. That's true of life as well, really.

The dream's to do with not knowing where I am in life and responsibility and not caring enough about inner child, or what's inside me, and thinking about someone I've got a crush on, and needing to declutter and strip it all back.

True dream.