A bad morning

Yesterday was my cousin's hen do. A very special occasion, and something I had been looking forward to for months, and it was really, really great. We all went go-karting in the day, then went out to a Greek restaurant in the evening which was followed by Greek dancing, then it was to Oceana's for some drinking and cheesy dancing. A brilliant day, even for Birmingham! It made up for what could only be described as a nightmare morning that occurred before the events that took place that day.

It all started when I got to the train station at Lincoln, so I could depart from there to Nottingham, then from Nottingham to Birmingham New Street.

Well, technically, the trouble started before I left the train station. I knew I was going to encounter a problem, and I was hoping for it to be easily resolved. This was proved wrong quite quickly. For future notice, and my advise to young persons under the age of 25 and are likely to have some use of travelling via trains, if you are going to get a railcard, buy online, not at the station. Why? Because when you buy from the station, you have to have two pieces of cards that make the railcard. One with the photo I.D, then one that is the actual valid as the discount card. Lose the discount card part, expect to pay the full price for a new discount card.

So basically, it's just another way for them to make money out of you. Daylight robbery. At least the railcard off the internet sends you just the one card you need, and if you loose it, it's really easy to go online and organize a replacement, which is also cheaper then having to fork out for a new one like you do when you are at an actual train station.

I paid £25 for an open train ticket from Lincoln to Birmingham New Street, that's the price with a young person's discount. I went to the train station to see if my railcard could be sorted out reasonably. My only option was having to buy ANOTHER train ticket for the same price WITHOUT refund on my previous ticket for £34. So it would have cost me over £50 for a train ticket to Birmingham, somewhere that I was only going to be there for a day. The other choice, buy another railcard for £28. Both choices were way out of order, but there was no way I could miss my cousin's hen do, and rail companies must love making money on people's crises. I took the second option. It probably was actually a good thing, as it was due for renewal the following month anyway, it was just one more expense I could have done without at the time. Pay day was less then a week away, I was broke and the money I had was saved for what needed to go on for the hen do.

That brings me to the second part of the nightmare morning. I got into Birmingham, the first thing I needed to do was to make a phone call to my parents to ask them to loan me money to cover the expense of paying for a new railcard. I couldn't phone my parents because I was blocked from making any sort of communication on my phone, as the bill was over due. I thought I was good for that til pay day, which was only a few days away.

Not only was I stuck for calling my parents, I was also stuck for calling my cousin's hen do organizer and bridesmaid for details of where the hotel was and where to meet for breakfast. So I ran around like a headless chicken looking for an orange shop, a natwest and somewhere with free wifi. Found an orange shop and had to negotiate and negotiate for them to put my phone back online, which cost me £10, but at least it meant I could get hold of help! So I called, got sorted and then was running around trying to find a Holiday Inn, which seemed impossible, especially as everyone walking or hanging around Birmingham that I asked for directions seemed as clueless as me! Can't believe I couldn't find one person that could give me directions.

Oh, and I forgot to mention, I've been getting gradually ill since my holiday in Yorkshire the other week, Friday being the worst so far, and then Saturday was just as bad, so being ill and having a crappy morning was not improving things.

Anyway, eventually I got to the hotel, and in a state of relief after checking in, and getting a phone call telling me where to be, but being slightly awkward to describe where to go, even though it was less then a minute away, but my scrambled and stressy brain at the time just couldn't process it, I burst into tears. They were tears of relief, as a girl named Fiona, my cousin's friend, bridesmaid and the hen organizer met me from the hotel and took me to the whetherspoons where everyone was meeting for breakfast.

After that, everything went perfectly, as mentioned at the beginning of this ranty post somewhere.

Well, it's Sunday now. I'm still ill, lost majority of my voice, got stuck in Nottingham for three hours, as trains to Lincoln from Nottingham on a Sunday is atrocious.

But now I'm home. It's half 11 at night, still ill, and I've got work tomorrow. Well, at least it's not til early afternoon, hopefully some luck will come my way, and I'll start to get better over night in my sleep!

Tarka, over and out!

My Thoughts on the England Riots

I know this is a few days late, but I was away in Yorkshire on a family holiday. So...

I am appalled by the behaviour of our British citizens that are responsible for the riots that have spread across Britain. Britain should be a country that its citizens are proud of, and the excuses of individual characters whether involved in the rioting or not, are despicable. There is absolutely no excuse for the behaviour of those involved in the looting. If the rumours are true, that the looting is in protest against government action, then these people shouldn’t be acting violently towards their neighbours. The people who work hard to run their businesses, the people who provide the community with everyday services, the people who are struggling themselves to make a living are the people getting hurt, innocent people. It is despicable. I hope the families of those involved in the rioting and looting are ashamed of them, and don’t hesitate to report them to the police if they know that members of their families are involved. This also goes for those who “understand”, meaning, agree with those involved with the violence, theft and arson that has contributed to the destruction in the mayhem and chaos of the riots and looting.

I am also disappointed with the media in their portrayal of those responsible for the riots. “Youths”, “teenagers” and “children” are the most common words that have been used to describe the majority of those that have been involved with the riots. This is an unfair stereotype, and a predictable one at that. While I can admit I have an unfair bias of my distain for chavs in hoodies, it is clear from the CCTV footage shown on the news rather than just the photographs in the newspapers that it isn’t just the “youths” involved, it’s adults too. I ask the media to be more forthright with this reality. This is a common occurrence with the media, and society’s opinion on the youth of today.

This doesn’t mean I deny that no youths are involved, I know there is a small minority responsible, but the way the media have been representing this notion makes it seem that all the youth of today act this way. Now, it wasn’t long ago that I was in that “youth” group. I’m 22 now, and while majority of my family would consider myself and my cousins of the same age, to cousins that are up to 25 the children in the family, I am an adult. It wasn’t long ago, however, that I was in my youth, and in that time, I still had the same stereotype follow me and my friends. In my home town, the shopping centre I used to visit, I would have security approach me to tell me to put my hood down, if by chance I had it up. This was in my college days. Now, I bet if it were a thirty year old with his hood on his hoodie on, no-one would bat an eyelid. It’s not like there are just hoods on hoodies either, raincoats, and other clothing garments have them too. I bet no-one who wears a hat is asked to remove it.

I can admit the thugs involved in the riots and lootings are giving hoodie wearing folk a bad name, but I implore people to not take this as a thought of assuming all people wearing hoodies might mug, rob or attack you. I’ve seen a response from the general public that this is a common opinion.

The problem with the troubled youngsters AND adults is that these particular have either not had a proper upbringing, which cannot, in all cases, be blamed on parenting. While I think in some cases, this can be true, particularly in witnessing poor parenting skills in the general public.

What really needs to be addressed is the lack of power in schools and general public services. Teachers and the police don’t have enough power these days to dish out the force and punishment that is required to shape our society into a civilized community. As a nation, we are too soft. The government urgently need to review and rectify a suitable solution to this ever growing problem.

You're So Vein

A Very Fishy Story... (Update no. 4)

The Will Reading and "What Really Happened"

Along with the letter about the "funeral", also what came with it was a "will" and a letter about what really happened. This is what they both said:

"The Official Reading of the Last Will and Testament of Beatrice Bobblethorpe

I Beatrice leave the following to my baby Betty:

• My forever Love x X (Love you baby) X x
• A packet of fish fingers - remember me when you eat each finger (will be delivered in due course)
• 70 2p's from my official fishifax savings account (will be delivered in due course)
• 80 1p's from my official fishifax savings account (will be delivered in due course)
• A bottle of water, this water was blessed by sharks on September 11th after the terrible plan crash which led to powerful trembles rushing to the Mediterranean killing your great grandfather twice removed (will be delivered in due course)
• A blank sheet of paper for you to write all of your great grandfather twice removed (will be delivered in due course)
• A blank sheet of paper for you to write all of your memories of me down - read it and treasure me forever (attached within)
• A star, when you were born I decided to buy a star and name it Betty. Every night look up at the sky and that shining star will be yours! I shall be waiting on it for you.
• A deep dark family secret. Barry is ALIVE! The story on the following page.

Beatrice, what really happened?

One sunny morning Barry, your brother and lover witnessed something so SHOCKING it destroyed his vision to happiness. Your brother and lover Barry walked in on your uncle Bagdad having sexual fishicourse with your TWIN brother Botty!!!

House passed and Barry could not cope with this! He later went up to his uncle and Botty had told them he saw everything that happened, his uncle told him he was onto to talk and made Barry feel like an apple. Later, Barry still could not cope so decided to go for a swim, he saw his uncle and Botty once again, things were not as they seemed they were arguing and Botty was crying. Bagdad slapped Botty and knocked him out. Barry witnessed everything, and then suddenly out of nowhere Bagdad killed Botty! My poor Botty dead. The police interviewed Barry and for the case to get to court Barry had to fake his death. Barry agreed and things all went to plan, this was until Bagdad escaped prison and killed himself on Botty's grave.

I could not take all this terror as I didn't know Barry was under witness protection. I only found ot the day before I decided to take my own life. There was nothing I could do as I had already taken an overdose which in SeaWorld kicks in a day later, I tried going to the hospital bt there was nothing they could do for me. It was too late my baby :( that is why I decided to write this terrible tragic will leaving you the real truth behind my death and it was nothing to do with all the crap Detective Brad told you! He had to lie so that terrible truth would not come out and risk your life Betty.

Your grandparents do however want to stay in touch and don't hate e like Brad said. As I come to an end of writing this letter I am starting to lose the will to live. I managed to publish my own Book (Finding Beatrice) it gives all the fll details about what really happened and you will be able to find out all about your birth, my dead, your brothers and ncles. I really hope that you meet your grandparents. Barry will be out of witness protection shortly so may be joining you. Barry is very disturbed at the moment and may not fully recover; he is suffering from Fish-dish this means he may change into a different or item of fishy products such as tuna. I hope you read my book and get the full story of what really happened with everything. I love you so much my baby. Love Mum X x

End of official WILL reading

This document is a legal document and should be disposed of as soon as possible

The court of law advises all WILL readers to wash their hands after reading this letter to wash away any sins that may have entered the reader's fins

This WILL was signed off... 24/05/11"

Thus concludes the last letter received about our newly adopted fish, Betty.

Next blog it will most definitely reveal who REALLY left me Betty.

A Very Fishy Story... (Update no. 3)

"Beatrice Bobblethorpe

15th May 1971 - 1th May 2011

Lover, fighter, mother, friend, beater, worker

All things we loved her for

xxxxxxxx"

Followed by:

"In the Memory Of Beatrice Bobblethorpe

15th May 1971 - 15th May 2011

On Thursday 19th May, Beatrice was flushed to rest. I have taken it upon myself to include to you some details about the service.

The funeral service was lead by Vicar Billy, a close fishy-friend of the Bobblethorpe family. Beatrice's close friends Bolly, Brax, on and off lover Brian and auntie Bee all delivered moving, emotional speeches during the service. Beatrice's mother and father did not attend the funeral as they were in so much shock they did not feel ready to publicly acknowledge the loss of their daughter at the moment in time. Bolly was said to be crying all the way through the service and had to be restrained at one point when he tried jumping in the toilet to pull Beatrice out. However, Brax, a very butch fish twice removed from seal world shocked everyone within the service by revealing Beatrice was a secret, casual lesbian and had actually been undergoing a no-fishnets-attached lesbian affair with lesbianism and made a few bubbles. Finally auntie Bee revealed that she was Betty's mother, this caused SHOCK within the bathroom and later announced she was joking and wanted to add a bit of entertainment to the service, however no one thought she was funny and told her to leave. Apparently auntie Bee has always been the dark sea-WHOREse of the family. The family asked me to pass on a very special poem to Betty that was written by Beatrice and read at the funeral.

You are gone, but not forgotten

you're a mother, lover and friend

I will love you until the end

Hold me, touch me, feel me

Kiss me, stroke me, release me

I will never replace you

I will never love again

Love me, Love you, Love us

Beatrice x

Yours sincerely, Detective Brad."

This letter was then followed by a 'WILL' reading... [will add tomorrow as I am too exhausted to type anymore!]

A very Fishy Story... (Update no. 2)

"Official Report and Statement Released by the Detectives at the Metrofishitan Police Force:

Beatrice was gentle and caring; a loving and generous fish. However, she could not cope with the burden of being a mother. That is why one sad evening she did the most devastating thing a mother could do... Beatrice decided to give her babies Betty and Barry up for adoption. Sadly, before he could find love and shelter with a different family, Barry passed away. We hope to explain this tragic turn of events to you more fully in order the shed some light o the experiences your new child, Betty, has endured.

Barry and Betty had been undergoing a sexual relationship (which in sea life is legal) however; when Beatrice found out it drove her to the edge of sanity. She went mental. Beatrice did not approve of it being legal for all fish to be lovers regardless of their possible relation to each other. Beatrice felt this way partly because her brother Bongo and sister Bella had an affair which resulted tragically in them both killing themselves. Bongo and Bella were seen as the sea versions of Romeo and Juliet... and you know how that story ended. However, back to the accident: when Beatrice found out about the nature of Barry and Betty's relationship she had an emotional breakdown. She lashed out at the pair and confined them to a small tub. She selfishly left them alone for several hours while she went out and painted the sea blue. When Beatrice came back the following morning, she had a terrible fishover and found Barry on the floor DEAD. She found his tiny fishy body contorted on the sea bed. Betty told her mother that Barry could not cope with their mother's disapproval and resentment. He felt that the only way out was taking an overdose of air which he did before Betty could stop him and he collapsed onto the floor and died.

Beatrice could not live with herself after Barry's death. She blamed herself for both of her children's misery and for Barry's suicide. She believed that she would find peace within herself once her remaining child, her beloved Betty, was safe int he care of more capable loving parents. Unfortunately she was wrong and discovered that she could not cope. Although this family's terrible story is filled with betrayal, woe and pain, we hope that it will not result in an unhappy ending. We implore you to provide for Betty the quality of life that her fish family could not, and to attempt to erase the pain that had been so present in her life up until the point you rescued her.

Beatrice's WILL reading is still being finalised with will be annouced once the date is officially confirmed. The finalisation of the WILL has experienced a few minor complications and is therefore delayed until further notice.

In Memory Of Beatrice Bobblethorpe."

So this is the third/fourth letter now. Getting more and more strange, and this letter definitely indicates that more letters are to come. And they did, which I am going to post in my next blog.

-Tarka98

A Very Fishy Story... (Update no. 1)

Ok, so woke up this morning, and went to fetch my post to find... YES... another letter. The letters get weirder and weirder, and I know there are more to come, as this letter indicates there will be.

This is what it reads;

"Dear Tenants,

My name is Detective Brad and I am writing to inform you that on the 15th May Betty's mother committed suicide. Beatrice Bobblethorpe Left the following message for Betty...

Betty, my poor alone Betty

I, your mother just could not cope with what I; YOUR MOTHER did to you. I was saying a little prayer on my birthday and it all came rushing back to me. The flashbacks really got to me and I was so alone and disturbed. By the time you read this I will have been found as dry as a bone on a bed of hot rocks somewhere in the Mediterranean.

I thought that I could cope with what I did to you, but no, I was wrong. I don't know why I thought I could live with myself after what I did. I really wish I could go back in time and change my selfish immature, cowardly actions. I can no longer live with myself after what I've done to you, so I say goodbye to this cruel world.I am such a sea WHOREse.

Please, please, please don't hate me. Just remember that I am forever your fish mother and despite my lack of love and care, somewhere deep down in my fins I truly loved you. So when you can find time to forgive me, look down into the sea and you might see my fishy reflection staring back at you.

Love you forever, mummy.

As you can see from the message, Betty's mother was a very disturbed fish. We felt the need to pass along this message to Betty, so she would receive this vital information about her mother and would not grow up doubting herself of fishy origins. I am pleased to pass on the information that Beatrice's mother and father would like to stay in contact with Betty. Their names are Benedict and Barbara and expressed the deepest shock, disgust and sadness when they found out the news that Betty had been put up for adoption. They were considering fighting to have Betty returned into their guardianship, but thought it would be better for her to stay with her new family she has become settled with.

With your co-operation they wish to make regular contact with Betty in the hopes that she will at least know some of her blood fish family.

I will be in contact shortly to let you know of Beatrice bubblethorpes funeral and will reading.

Detective Brad."

Again, I am lost for words what to make of this. Should I be expecting to receive stuff out of the "will"? Haha, or should Betty... who as I said, I renamed Custard, be expected to attend the funeral?

I really do applaud the author's imagination on this one. I really do hope I find out who is behind all this! It is definitely the most random thing that has ever happened to me. Whether this be a stalker, a neighbour, someone I know, or complete stranger... whatever, I hope they find a way to read this or see my youtube videos, or else I'm gunna have to come up with more inventive ways to communicate back.

Again, feel free to comment or whatever, or maybe give some advice? Ha!

I'm signing off now, expect a youtube video later today!

-Tarka98

A Very Fishy Story...

Hey guys,

Yeah, been a while again since I'd posted but never mind.

I have good news. I MOVED HOUSE! And it's beautiful. Got a gorgeous spacious bedroom, and a happier, bigger location to film my vlogs.

Anyway, aside from that, I've got a really really strange story to tell you all.

After moving into my new house, a week later, I came home from a BBQ at a friend of mine to find a strange surprise awaiting me at my door step.

A plastic beaker, full of water and a goldfish. Not only that, the beaker full of water, with a goldfish also came with a note. A note that said;

"Dear Tenants,

Please please please look after my baby: Betty. Through my neglect, her lover Barry killed himself. [Picture of Barry "dead"] (Barry the fish. Dead)

This has proven to me how much of a bad parent I am and I hope you will be able to give Betty the love and support she deserves, but that I cannot provide."

So yeah, that was weird.

Picture of the letter above, hope you can all read it, and then the fish in the mentioned beaker just below:

So, I took the fish in like any reasonable human being, not like I am going to leave a poor goldfish outside for a chav to find and probably try to BBQ.

The next day, I bought the fish a tank, some fish food and chlorine stuff to make the water nice. Cost me just over £6, so thanks stranger for leaving me an extra £6 short, cuz I really need all the money I can get at the moment! You owe me.

So I figured, I took the fish in, that would be it. Then, a week and a half later, I received a letter through the post. A letter a lot longer then the note I was given. Very strange.

The letter reads:

"My darling tenants,

I don't know where to begin to thank you for your fantastic hospitality of Betty. Betty was a good girl at heart, always new how to be a good girl and treat the other fish with love and respect. However, Barry treated the other fish BAD! Sometimes I think that is why god took him from us so early in fish pond life.

Sunday 27th March, the sun was shining and I had just given birth to my babies. Late afternoon I was allowed to leave the aquarium as I didn't bleed too much and they were both easy swimmers. They both swam out of me like the titanic leaving the docks; that horrible event always brings a tear to my eye.

Bet, their father though I am unsure as I did have unprotected sea food one summers evening with a naughty shark. I always like to think Bert as their daddy as he sadly died in some fish nets after giving me a yummy massage one December morning. Oh that morning was a cold one; you could so tell Christmas was on its way!

For my birthday, which bu the way is May 15th (Hint, Hint) I would like you to say a little prayer with my Betty. Every night, we would always pray together that life would not separate us. I feel so ashamed of myself for just not being able to provide for my babies. Currently I am lapping it up in sunny Spain with my mother Barbra. I always dreamt of taking Betty to see her, however, that never happened.

I hope Betty is settling in comfortably at your residence and not causing too much hassle. I would love to visit her one day, but I just cannot face what I did to her. This is why I am writing this letter, in the hopes you will read it to her one day when she is old enough to understand. And maybe one day, Betty will find a lover that will treat her like a pearl... something Bert, Betty's father, could not do. He was always on the scrounge, which did make me consider abortion, but it was just something I couldn't bring myself to do.

As this letter is coming to an end, I just want to send my love and kisses to my darling Betty. I hope one day she will come to understand my reasons for giving her to you, and perhaps one day, when she is ready, she will decide to track me down on facefish.co.uk. Tell her to find me under Beatrice Bobblethorpe. At the moment my account is deactivated, as I do not want to pressure Betty into anything so sudden, but I will re-activate it once my heart begins to mend itself. I should think that this is when Betty is 18 and can willingly look for her true, fish mother.

Yours sincerely,

Beatrice Bobblethorpe.

7 Rocks to the left,

Behind Pearl Lane,

Centre of Crab Street.

Mediterranean Sea,

Spain."

Yeah, so very very strange stuff! I can honestly say, I don't know anyone that would come up with this bizarre stuff! I mean, I've had weird things posted through my door before, as a student before, but nothing like this! (And that is saying something).

I thought this maybe might meant to be a riddle, or there are hints in the letter to who this can be, if there is, I can't figure it out. I'm sure this is a prank by someone, but who, I have no clue. Myself and my house mate think it is no-one we know, but friends I have shown the letter to think differently.

I really can't guess.

If the original owner of this fish is reading this by chance, I re-named the fish Custard. Sorry, but Betty is just a ridiculous name for a fish, and she is tragically scared for life from her previous guardian. She felt a change in identity was a better way to go.

I am now curious to see if I get anything else related to Custard through the post. I shall keep you posted.

-Tarka98

A Very Happy Tarka

So it's only been just under two months since I posted here but never mind. I WILL try harder, I promise. My youtube uploads have dwindled too, but for good reason in which I shall explain.

You may have noticed that my url for this particular blog has changed. It used to be fal108.blogspot.com and now it's tarka98.blogspot.com - the reason for this is that I've gone through a bit of a re-brand. Well, a recycled re-brand. Many years ago, when I first started out on the internet in 1998, all my user accounts for any internet website, I used my dogs name Tarka, as one of the many rules of children (and even as adults) never use your real name. So I used my dogs, because she is special and significant, and I don't see the name around very much, so it felt unique.

Now, I know those very few of you that do read my blog posts will know my real name, which is fine. I am nearing 22 now, so I think I can safely say it doesn't really matter whether people on the internet do know my real name or not, and those that don't, I'll give it you now, even though it's in my profile description box. My name is Zoe. As I said, I am old enough and wise enough to be able to publicize my real name, which I have been doing for some time now, but with enough maturity to be careful enough for silly things to not happen to me.

Anyway, back to the point of this blog post, which wasn't originally supposed to be about my name or change of url address.

I got some very happy news today.

I'm pregnant! Nah - just kidding. I know we've past April Fools but I couldn't risk that little one liner.

The good news is that I have a new house to move into. It's very pretty, spacious and non-studenty. Which is lovely and all sunshine and rainbows.

For my last four years of living in Lincoln, I've lived in student flats or houses, meaning having to share with 4-7 people at any one time. First year it was five other people, second year it was three, so four including me and then third and final year was five other people again and after graduating but remaining in full time work, I've been staying in a 7 person house share. Well, technically 6, but there are usually 7 people here. Which can be lovely, but from May onwards, I get to share a house with just one other person, and in that house I look forward to the letting agents to not be treating me like a student.

I also look forward to many other things about the new house such as not having to conceal that fact I have a rabbit anymore, having my own bathroom, having a huge big double room, being able to treat my bedroom like a bedroom and not my living room and dining room too, and I can actually have a living room and dining room for the initial purpose. I know this may all be very boring to you all, but I am very excited about it, and I will be inflicting a vlog on it too once I get the keys to give you a tour!

Oh yes, the reason behind the lack of videos. Well, as mentioned before, I live in a house that is occupied by 6-7 people at any one time, and truth be told, I feel weird and strangely un-confident about filming my videos with any of my house mates in the next room. I'm not used to it, and it was strange filming the recent vlogs over the past 6 months or so. My real life friends do know my habits, but it appears I am a wuss to filming around them. I do feel right silly. But once I move, that should all change. Living with just one other person and feeling silly should be easy, and it also means I'll be more comfortable with multiple film locations too instead of just constantly filming in my room which does get boring.

I know my last videos was me trolling trolls. Don't worry, I shant be stopping that, but I do want to continue doing normal vlogs too and other little projects I am thinking of as well as attempting a few short films. So watch this space patiently and I should be kicking myself up the arse soon enough to please my lovely little quaint audience.

Night my lovies!

-Tarka98

Sleep is a luxury not a life necessity.

I love to sleep. It's probably my favourite out of all life's necessities. Although I see it more of a luxury, because when I wake up in the morning, or depending how rough a previous day, in the afternoon, I always seem to remember my dreams. Dreams that set me off on adventures I can't even begin to imagine. Every morning I wake, I get excited over remembering what I did in my sleep, but also disappointed it didn't really happen.

For example, when I woke up this morning, I smiled as I remembered I dreamt about Captain Hook. Now the only explanation I have for him popping into my mind in the land of slumber is because I've been watching "Hook" on my breaks at work. Which is bizarre as I have watched "Black Swan" now three times within a week and a half. If anything, I would have expected that one to pop in my dreams. But no, Captain Hook. I'm not complaining however, I do like the chap, he's entertaining. I've dreamt about him before.

The first dream I ever had about Captain Hook dates a few years back in my life. Definitely childhood - but childhood at secondary school, so between 11-13. I can still remember that dream almost as clear as day now. Tinkerbell came to my bedroom and gave me some of her magic dust that allowed me to fly. So I walked outside into my back garden in the dead of night, my mum fast asleep next door in her bedroom that is next to mine. I jumped into the air, and I was flying. It felt so real and unbelievable. I was flying, I was really flying. Of course, I wasn't really flying, it was just a dream, but even now it felt like it really did happen.

I flew over my village, remembering every detail of it from a birds eye point of view, then headed Stratford way and eventually towards the North Star.

Tinkerbell suddenly disappeared, I don't remember when she did, but she wasn't around anymore. I arrived at Neverland alone, and gasped in horror. It was completely destroyed. No-one was around, there was smoke and dust everywhere. It was a wasteland. I landed on the wasteland and started calling Peter's name, as one would expect to meet Peter Pan on their arrival to Neverland. He didn't appear. I started to walk across the wasteland that was once Neverland, and suddenly, I began to hear voices. They were familiar, but not a good familiar. They were pirates, and where there are pirates in Neverland, there is Captain Hook. I need to hide. I thought and quickly browsed around for where too. I saw a cardboard box, big enough for me to fit in. I scrambled inside, clenched my teeth and shut my eyes tight, praying they wouldn't find me.

I could hear footsteps by this time, and their voices had grown louder.

"Someone has been here. I can smell it." I heard Hook say. "Look everywhere." I watched in fear and awe as from my hiding place, I saw him take a step forward so his feet were in my line of vision from my hiding place. He bent down onto one knee, and in slow motion, I could see him lower himself to look into my hiding place, first his long, ebony dreadlocks came to view, then his pointy, sharp and savage face peered down toward me, a smile elongated across his face in pure delight. He fad found what he was looking for, and what he was looking for was me.

Then I woke up.

Which pissed me off. I wanted to know what happened next!

So I had a good old dream about good old Captain Hook again last night. Like the film "Inception" reminds us all, we never really remember how our dream starts, we are just there, and it doesn't occur to us how we got there. So there I am. I'm not alone, I know I am with friends, but I can't remember who I was with. One of my friends informs me that Captain Hook has been arrested, and it was my job to go "book him in". Now I don't exactly take him to a police station. I take him to a strange and unfamiliar house. Unfamiliar outside the dream, but in the dream it was familiar. Have you ever had that happen to you?

So yes, there I am with Mr Captain James Hook, I take him, in handcuffs to this house. For some reason, no-one has taken his weapons off him, so I quickly see to that, taking his sword and gun off of him. Then I take him out into the garden and handcuff him to something that I don't remember. All I know is that he can't escape. Or so I thought. I go back into the house and I'm chatting with someone. There are holes in this dream that I don't remember, but eventually, Captain Hook breaks free, and I'm pretty much shitting myself because I know he is going to come after me. I run into the garden, and we both freeze as we acknowledge each other. I run into the shed and grab at whatever weapon I can, and we begin to battle.

THEN I FUCKING WAKE UP. UGH.

For once, I wish I could dream a full dream and remember every detail of it.

So, blog readers/writers, do any of you remember your dreams, and do you find them particularly epic? I would love to know. Comment on this blog if you do.

I'll be uploading a vlog later, a little rant about a particular troll that is trolling at the moment, if you are interested, take a gandar on this page: http://www.youtube.com/tarka98