Past Life Aggression, is that you?

I was going to put this in the last blog but I know that myself get iffy when I had to read shit-arsed long blogs. But that is just me and my short-attention span and that Just Read Another Shorter Blog compulsion.

Josh came into our room this afternoon and dumped this whole dream of his onto our laps. He had fallen asleep watching Day Of The Dead and it was not at all surprising that his dream was set in a post-apocalyptic world. Hell, I fell asleep this morning watching the same movie on our PC with Jaz and I had a dream that I was watching Mock The Week on a massive HDTV so I have no idea how my brain had missed out the whole Zombie fiasco before bedtime. But Josh was fixated on the fact that he was with a woman in that dream and he reckoned that that was the love of his sleeping life. See, zombies, lonely nights, single life and blue cheese before bedtime. That is how your brain fucks with you. Oh, and Lucozade, too. So, this whole dream-thing made me go on about 'They reckon we've all got seven souls, you know. And that one soul is the one that fucks off when you pass out and fucks about in that dreamland and get into all sorts of rubbish.' speech. Don't ask me who They are. Just some anonymous people on the interwebs. And there is that one soul that resides in the future so that when you were to walk down a path and go 'Oh shit, deja vu!' that was because that future soul of yours had walked down the same path, possibly heading towards the same Budgens to buy the same bottle of shampoo, too. So that was three souls accounted for and I have no idea where the other four are. They themselves might be wondering where the fuck they are as well. I can talk about this whole parallel universe thing until the cows come home and all of my theories and findings were made possible by Youtube, Google, Wikipedia and occasionally, Horrible Histories on CBeebies.

So then, I said that maybe that was his soul mate. Mind you, by then I was on my third cup of coffee in an hour. Within five minutes, this entire conversation had changed from soul mates to past life regressions. Josh said that his dad went to see a hypnotherapist of sort and the person said that he was a samurai in his past life. Really, the fucking luck some people have. It was not enough that he was born in this life into a shit-rich family with enough money to piss about on Past Life Regression sessions. He had to be awesome in his past life as well? Where on earth is this elusive justice-dispensing person eh? I want to be able to afford a hypnotherapy session as well. I want somebody to mess about with my brain for once and tell me what on earth I was before this. But with my fucking shit for luck, I'd be spending a grand on the session and discover that in my past life I had aided in the discovery of Dettol by being that one scum they found on the bottom of someone's toilet. I was that last germ that they managed to exterminate, hence making it 99% effective. Without my extinction, it would have been 98%. I would come out of the posh room yelling WHY WHY WAAAAAAAI DID THEY HAVE TO KILL ME IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE!? THEY KILLED MY WIFE AND KIDS! ALL OF US WERE KILLED! And I would be doomed for all eternity trying to find my past life families by going into chatrooms asking 'Do you remember anything about your past life? Was there a petri dish in that memory of yours?' It is I. I am your father. Or was. I was your father.  Back then in that life where we were germs. Have you located your mother and sister?

Or maybe, since Jaz and I were so sure we were lovers in our past life, he was a germ as well. He was... My wife. Yes. Or wait. Fucking confusing. And Jaz seemed to think that he had a past life as a Japanese soldier. Now see, that makes sense because when Japan invaded Singapore, the Japanese soldiers raped our women. So now, it is his karma and retribution and his route to nirvana that I rape him back. Because maybe I was a woman he raped back then. Oh, wishful thinking. Or wait, maybe he didn't rape me because you can't rape the willing. It must mean that my mother was right. I was a slut. Even in my past life. Wow. Curse you, Mother.

A good chunk of the world population would like to think that they were someone iconic in their past life but that is really, just wishful thinking. Maybe you were a daffodil that departed your last life when a Labrador pissed on you and drowned you. Maybe you were a lamb that was only a few years old that got ripped away from your mother, slayed and slaughtered and served for dinner. Aaah, didn't think of that, did you?

So, Josh was asking WHEN when when am I going to meet this woman? We were so in love.

Isn't the answer obvious? You'll meet her when zombie apocalypse happens. Maybe next year when it was prophesied that the world is going to end. Cue zombies.

The oracle has spoken. Now who is going to make my tea?