It’s all swell when you’re well

Dreaming I was preparing an exhibition honoring Herman Brood. I was being emotionally tortured. In defiance I offered a knife to use against me, and in greater defiance it was ignored and the torture compounded. When I woke up my throat was killing me and I knew I was sick again. Then I fell asleep and dreamed of hamsters, just like the last time I was sick. A man had neglected his hamster – it was in a poor state, all malnourished and half bald. I helped orchestrate the campaign to save the hamster. Later, I walked past the man’s shop. His hamster sat on the sidewalk in front of his shop. The front of the shop was all glass, and the hamster looked tiny. I saw the man inside, completely broken with his head in his hands, awaiting his fate. I petted the hamster, which had completely recovered. The hamster stared stupidly in front of itself, completely unable to comprehend its current state, or even its previous state. It sure looked cute though.
Later Baby mentioned Laika. I always thought Laika survived, but it turns out her spaceship wasn’t even designed to be able to make it back into orbit. Later Laika was honored with all sorts of statues, postage stamps etc, which somehow makes me feel even more sorry for Laika. I bet all she wanted was some food, a place to run around, and a good fuck.
Well, in a nutshell: I’m sick, we’re all going to die, and existence is futile.

Fish eat fish

I dreamed there was a tank full of fish which were to be culled. The culling was acheived by poisoning the water and slowly draining it, so the poison became less and less diluted. As the fish started to weaken, the stronger fish started to eat the weaker fish, but these stronger fish then became weaker and themselves were eaten, till it was just shallow water with various fish wallowing around with strings of half-dead fish half swallowing each other.
This reminded me of when I got a free pass to a new gym. My regular gym has a big, open changing room, but this new gym had a tiny one cluttered with ill-places seats. In my regular gym people are generally polite and generous in the changing room – they stand back and make room for each other, but in this new gym it was dog eat dog, with everyone vying for a good spot to change, jumping all over each other and the furniture and aggressively protecting their little patches.
This in turn reminds me of the Middle East.
Silly little fish.