When I say 'dreaming', what I mean is having nightmares.
Harriet Wheeler sang in The Sundays twenty years ago. Then she disappeared and became a normal person. Then, 15 years later, I found the songs, and her voice is the most beautiful, haunting voice I've ever heard. I am in love with the voice, which is disturbing as I know absolutely nothing about her as a person. I don't want to know, and fortunately there's almost no information at all to be found about her.
My brain doesn't like this.
Lately I've been having nightmares where Harriet Wheeler suddenly enters my life and turns out to be a horrible person. Either an arrogant diva who takes over my house, or a cruel teenage girl who torments people and then becomes a drug addict and dies.
2 hours ago I woke up on the sofa from a nightmare where Harriet Wheeler was a strange unintelligent gypsy mother who just kept giving birth to endless children, and, of course, ruining people's lives.
ARGH, I WANT THIS TO STOP. I'm sorry Harriet Wheeler, I wish my mad brain had nothing to do with you, it always destroys everything beautiful.
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