Nat is very unhappy with the music his band is making. “Why not change it then?” I asked.

He says he can’t. The reality seems not to match the ideal.

I insisted that we all have to cope with this problem. I was so moved by his plight that I told him of mine: whether or not to give up medicine and enter the back-stabbing world of the professional violinist. He seemed most concerned. I said that I could still see him, but his concern went deeper than that. He seemed quite stunned to find me in such a quandary, as if he were the only one subject to human foibles and the rest of us were aliens. Nat hoped he wasn’t a contributory factor to my present dilemma. I assured him that he was not.

WED SEP 10

I had a particularly foul dream. I was aware that it was a dream, and I could influence its direction but chose not to. A tall thin youth (an ignis fatuus, it turned out) was walking down a rickety road. His limbs suddenly went completely out of control, like wild crazy concertinas, or mad elastic. He then continued on his way unabated. That was all. The most singular aspect of the dream was its mood, for it was accompanied by a most wonderful sense of well-being. Indeed, not until long after it was over did this feeling diminish and the horrific implications of the repulsive imagery fully strike home.

This, as far as I can recall, is my only dream to exist fully within the realm of topsy-turvydom. Disturbing, but objectively ridiculous imagery linked with pleasant emotions, confined to the duration of the dream, but taking on more sinister associated feelings when awake. Usually dreams lose their convincing “antilogic” and power during the day, becoming merely comic. Not so here. Twenty-four hours after this vision of slumber I can rationalise it as ludicrous, but this does nothing to reduce its sinister malevolence.

Maybe I am just a violin, dreaming that I am a violinist!

FRI SEP 12

Nat actually called me “Rod” today, the first time that he has condescended to employ such a familiar mode of address. He is looking very well. He walks about four miles a day now, to and from Greg’s house.