As we were driving up to the supermarket I remarked to the wife that it is boring getting the same type of dream over and over. The themes of being gossiped about, checked up on, snooped upon and the jungle drums banging out long into the jungle night, recur.
The theme of people trying to be clever and cunning seems never to stop. Baldrick is perennially reaching for his famed planning turnip. The endless secret squirrel speculation and so-called “information gathering” keeps cropping up.
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Inspector Clouseau has a new case to work on at the Louvre so why are they still interested in me?
It is pretty simple.
“If you want to know, ask me!”
Asking the monkeys will not help. Try using a Clouseau voice…
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I know that there is a theory that if you put enough monkeys together with typewriters you will eventually get the works of Shakespeare. But that seems a rather indirect route.
I am not in any way flattered by the notion of people gossiping about me. I consider that to be bullying and very rude. I am not interested in political machinations. If a whole bunch of people are collectively doing things behind my back I am not only crippled but outnumbered. That is bullying nasty behaviour. It has an unpleasant stench and is pretty much evil. It is a bit sad and un-impeccable.
Same shit different day…
Dreamyoga 