To love and to be loved. Let's just hope that is enough.
2002-08-23 || 8:52 p.m.

I feel confused, dislocated and distracted.

Here are some of the things I have been thinking about:

I began to think about angels. Why do so many people visualise angels as girls? why do blonde girls always get to be angels in school nativity plays? When I think about angels I see them as masculine, strong, protective but gentle. Then I thought how sexist of me. I'm seeing men as protective. I know angels are meant to be genderless but I would still rather think of them as male. Is this wrong? People do say they see angels. You get these stories of them leading people out of earthquake zones and burning buildings. These large, super powerful impressive 8' figures. Do different people see the same thing at the same time and does that therefore mean they exist? I don't know.

Then I thought about how I believe in fairies and how people laugh at that. I remember years ago reading about how they are supposed to mimic humans and have stuff like mini-fridges and I suppose little mobile phones and skateboards!

When I was a child my mum used to say two things to me regularly. The first was that she loved me because I was her child but that she didn't actually like me. The second was that I was a changeling - the fairies took her real baby and left me in its place.

I wonder whether fairies are just another dimension. Fairy time is supposed to be different. A bit like dream time. Morgaine Le Fey found years had passed but she thought she had only been in fairyland a short time. Was there once an Avalon? Did we lose the ability to get there? Is it an allegory for lost skills, for knowledge we could once tap into.

When rebecca was at primary school I used to braid hair at school fetes. I'm shit hot at braiding hair with those cotton covered beaded extensions. I was always the most popular attraction! Anyway, I was sitting there braiding hair one Christmas. A teacher had sat down next to me because she wanted to see what I was doing. Braiding hair makes your arms ache and I have a poor right arm anyway so she helped me out by holding the hair so I could swing the cotton around. Across the school hall another teacher was watching - a male teacher. Suddenly I slipped into a different time. I was no longer in the school hall but sitting in a large stone room at a loom. Opposite me was the teacher who was currently holding the hair. In the doorway stood the male teacher. We all looked different but I knew who we were. He was looking at us. I knew he was the partner of the other woman but that I was sleeping with him and he didn't like to see us sitting there weaving together.

I wonder if this is just some allegorical archetype for gender roles, if I am delusional or if I really did slip into another role somewhere.