Not gonna gripe today. Just gonna write about dreams.
I was working at a computer in an office building somewhere. My right hand was robotic and functioned better and much faster than my left hand. I had lost it in a battle and it had to be replaced. I'd grown to despise my left hand and its inability to keep up with the right. Unfortunately, the only way to legally replace body parts was to have lost them in combat.
As discreetly as possible, I went out to the fire escape and traveled down several floors until I reached the parking garage. In a shadowed corner of the concrete basement I met with a grizzled old man. "How much," I asked, "would it theoretically cost to replace a body part with cybernetics?" The old man smiled.
Then I was on a starship, which was docked at the central space station. Standing from my seat in the cockpit, I walked up to the windshield. With a powerful molecular knife, I carefully poked a small hole in the super-reinforced glass. Once that was done, it was a simple matter to twist the knife enough to enlarge the hole to about a two-inch diameter.
My perspective shifted to another member of the bridge crew.
"What are you doing?!" I yelled at the man who had just cut a hole in the forward window.
"This!" he cried and struck a key on the control panel in front of him. Everyone was thrown backward as the rockets fired and the ship lurched forward out of the docking bay. As we left the artificial atmosphere, there was a sudden roar of air rushing toward the hole in the window.
Through the other viewscreens, I could see that the attitude rockets of the space station had begun firing. With horror I realized that the man intended to fly our ship through the super-energized plasma flames of the station rockets. Normally the ship would be able to take it, but the hole in the windshield would expose us to the raw energy.
The world outside the windows disappeared in a wash of purple-white plasma. Laughing madly, the man held his left hand in front of the two-inch hole and let the fire burn away his flesh and bones. (Thinking back, it seems like there might have been an easier way for him to cut off his hand.)
My perspective shifted again, this time to myself, watching the man incinerate his hand on TV. I was in bed. C was next to me asleep. It was about the same time that I realized I wasn't wearing pants. That isn't right, I thought to myself, and pulled some on.
C rolled over and tried to pull me closer in her sleep. I tried to pull away, but she only snuggled closer and kissed me. As nice as it was, it still wasn't right. I broke the kiss and got up, leaving C alone in the bed.
Then I woke up.
It's happened more than once that a girl has told me she had a dream about cheating on me like I'm not allowed to get upset with her about it since it was a dream. But I'm still me when I'm dreaming and that means that I'm still not going to cheat. Even when I'm not me, something still makes me act as if I'm in a relationship (when I am in one). Of course, it's been my understanding that my dreams aren't really normal most of the time...
Monday, September 24, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Spies, or possibly just freelance trouble-makers
I've been watching a bunch of old-school Doctor Who episodes lately. As usual, it's just a smattering of episodes across nearly four decades, but I almost managed to keep them in order. I think some of my favorites are those that involve the other Time Lords, where the writers were challenged to come up with not just theoretical technology of the future, but technology that lies at the outer edges of reason. They didn't always succeed, but it's always interesting to watch the attempt.
Agents
I was somwehere in Europe with Audrey, my friend/partner. It may have been Nice, France. We were in a coffee shop discussing our search for Julie, who had gone missing in the area under mysterious circumstances. Concluding we should search her usual haunts first, we left the shop. On the way out, I got another latte to go.
Audrey drove through the winding cobbled streets while I sat in the passenger seat enjoying my coffee. The steering wheel was on the wrong side for Europe, though it may have just been an American car. The third location we visited was a bar. It was very similar to a wonderful bar in Cork, Ireland, but had three stories. Audrey climbed the stairs to the second floor and called out that she'd found Julie's table. The bartender eyed me and my latte suspiciously.
We sat at the table and Audrey closed her eyes, laying her hands flat on the tabletop. After a moment she opened her eyes. "I know where she is." Audrey was psychic.
I touched the table too and got a faint impression of a map with a vaguely orange splotch on it in the general location of where Julie was. My psychic powers were nowhere near as strong as Audrey's. Normally I'm the protagonist in my dreams, but this time it seemed I was letting Audrey take the lead.
Hurrying to the street, we leapt into the car and raced to the place. It tyrned out to be an old overgrown garden with a large stone fountain in the center. The metal gate was locked but the stone wall surrounding the area was old and crumbling, and it was easy for us to climb over it.
Julie was sitting by the fountain, apparently no worse for wear. "You made it!" she exclaimed happily when she saw us. She was unable to say more before a helecoptor flew overhead and she jumped to her feet. "How could they have followed you?" she cried. "You should have been able to lose them easily with the directions I gave you."
Audrey and I looked at each other in confusion. I said, "We didn't get any directions. We followed your psychic trace."
"Oh. We might be in trouble then."
The three of us ran to the gate where Julie took a moment to unlock it. Our car had already been overturned on its side and was immobile. I walked calmly toward the six waiting men and women, waving Audrey and Julie away behind my back. "This may take some time to explain," I said slowly.
Then I woke up.
Agents
I was somwehere in Europe with Audrey, my friend/partner. It may have been Nice, France. We were in a coffee shop discussing our search for Julie, who had gone missing in the area under mysterious circumstances. Concluding we should search her usual haunts first, we left the shop. On the way out, I got another latte to go.
Audrey drove through the winding cobbled streets while I sat in the passenger seat enjoying my coffee. The steering wheel was on the wrong side for Europe, though it may have just been an American car. The third location we visited was a bar. It was very similar to a wonderful bar in Cork, Ireland, but had three stories. Audrey climbed the stairs to the second floor and called out that she'd found Julie's table. The bartender eyed me and my latte suspiciously.
We sat at the table and Audrey closed her eyes, laying her hands flat on the tabletop. After a moment she opened her eyes. "I know where she is." Audrey was psychic.
I touched the table too and got a faint impression of a map with a vaguely orange splotch on it in the general location of where Julie was. My psychic powers were nowhere near as strong as Audrey's. Normally I'm the protagonist in my dreams, but this time it seemed I was letting Audrey take the lead.
Hurrying to the street, we leapt into the car and raced to the place. It tyrned out to be an old overgrown garden with a large stone fountain in the center. The metal gate was locked but the stone wall surrounding the area was old and crumbling, and it was easy for us to climb over it.
Julie was sitting by the fountain, apparently no worse for wear. "You made it!" she exclaimed happily when she saw us. She was unable to say more before a helecoptor flew overhead and she jumped to her feet. "How could they have followed you?" she cried. "You should have been able to lose them easily with the directions I gave you."
Audrey and I looked at each other in confusion. I said, "We didn't get any directions. We followed your psychic trace."
"Oh. We might be in trouble then."
The three of us ran to the gate where Julie took a moment to unlock it. Our car had already been overturned on its side and was immobile. I walked calmly toward the six waiting men and women, waving Audrey and Julie away behind my back. "This may take some time to explain," I said slowly.
Then I woke up.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Dreaming of driving
I've been watching the new Sherlock on BBC, and it's all kinds of good. With the new season they've introduced the modern Irene Adler. She's cunning, manipulative and everything Holmes could ask for in an adversary. It might be an attractive thought to some that they could find someone who matches them so completely, but while Sherlock and Irene may not have exactly been enemies they certainly weren't friends. Whatever mutual understanding there was between them was also paired with the knowledge that they could never completely trust each other either. To me, the prospect of having that kind of relationship develop with someone is synonymous with losing a friend.
I've been dreaming a lot of driving lately.
I was driving through town, while at the same time trying to drive the truck ahead of me by remote control. It was difficult, but I was managing it suprisingly well. Until a traffic light turned red just after the truck passed through the intersection but before I could make it through. Driving the truck without being able to see it was much more difficult, and within a few seconds I'd managed to crash it into the median.
When the light had changed again, I drove within sight of the truck again and was dismayed to see that a police car had already pulled up beside it. I was forced to drive past the accident.
I next found myself entering a lab of some sort. It hadn't been apparent before, but I then realized that we were doing various experiments in vehicle control. Julie, my blond partner, and I were working under a dark-haired supervisor.
Julie immediately pulled me aside and whispered, "Something's wrong. I haven't heard from the home office in more than a week." I shushed her as I saw the supervisor heading our way.
"I lost the truck," I said immediately, to divert his attention from Julie as she tried to look busy.
"I saw," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. We're going to Phase 3 now."
Julie turned toward us from her computer. "It isn't ready!" she cried.
"I don't care!" the supervisor exclaimed. "This is our last chance to make it work or they'll shut us down."
Personally, I wasn't so sure that would be a bad thing, but I kept my mouth shut.
The next thing I knew, both Julie and I were being hooked up to a machine via wires inserted into our arms and the backs of our necks. "Julie isn't prepped for this!" I protested, but the supervisor ignored me and activated the machine.
Julie became unnaturally pale as connections were made between her and the car. I knew the same thing was happening to me. Suddenly, I became aware of the car as an extension of my consciousness. It wasn't quite a part of me, but I could easily tell where it was and direct it with my mind. It was parked outside the building, next to the black car that I could somehow tell was Julie's.
Inside the lab, I looked under one of the tables from my seated position and saw that the connections to the home office had been severed. The supervisor hadn't received any orders to start Phase 3, he'd been acting on his own. Next to me, Julie was getting worse. Her skin had taken on a grey tone, and she was much thinner now. She was dying.
So was I. I couldn't stand to stop what was happening. So I did the only thing I could think of, and drove my car through the front windows of the building. The supervisor ran to the door just as my car crashed into it from the other side, killing him.
Then I woke up.
I've been dreaming a lot of driving lately.
I was driving through town, while at the same time trying to drive the truck ahead of me by remote control. It was difficult, but I was managing it suprisingly well. Until a traffic light turned red just after the truck passed through the intersection but before I could make it through. Driving the truck without being able to see it was much more difficult, and within a few seconds I'd managed to crash it into the median.
When the light had changed again, I drove within sight of the truck again and was dismayed to see that a police car had already pulled up beside it. I was forced to drive past the accident.
I next found myself entering a lab of some sort. It hadn't been apparent before, but I then realized that we were doing various experiments in vehicle control. Julie, my blond partner, and I were working under a dark-haired supervisor.
Julie immediately pulled me aside and whispered, "Something's wrong. I haven't heard from the home office in more than a week." I shushed her as I saw the supervisor heading our way.
"I lost the truck," I said immediately, to divert his attention from Julie as she tried to look busy.
"I saw," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. We're going to Phase 3 now."
Julie turned toward us from her computer. "It isn't ready!" she cried.
"I don't care!" the supervisor exclaimed. "This is our last chance to make it work or they'll shut us down."
Personally, I wasn't so sure that would be a bad thing, but I kept my mouth shut.
The next thing I knew, both Julie and I were being hooked up to a machine via wires inserted into our arms and the backs of our necks. "Julie isn't prepped for this!" I protested, but the supervisor ignored me and activated the machine.
Julie became unnaturally pale as connections were made between her and the car. I knew the same thing was happening to me. Suddenly, I became aware of the car as an extension of my consciousness. It wasn't quite a part of me, but I could easily tell where it was and direct it with my mind. It was parked outside the building, next to the black car that I could somehow tell was Julie's.
Inside the lab, I looked under one of the tables from my seated position and saw that the connections to the home office had been severed. The supervisor hadn't received any orders to start Phase 3, he'd been acting on his own. Next to me, Julie was getting worse. Her skin had taken on a grey tone, and she was much thinner now. She was dying.
So was I. I couldn't stand to stop what was happening. So I did the only thing I could think of, and drove my car through the front windows of the building. The supervisor ran to the door just as my car crashed into it from the other side, killing him.
Then I woke up.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Dreams of an airport
I was in Denver last week and W deliberately tried to set me up for embarrassment. I'm starting to get tired of it because it's not even really in good fun any more. Like she's only doing it for her own private enjoyment. Fortunately, it didn't work out correctly for her and only ended up being confusing until I ran the whole scene out in my mind again and realized that I hadn't reacted the way she'd wanted me to.
Yeah, I'm venting again. I shouldn't try to write so soon after these things happen, but it's been a while since I remembered a dream clearly.
Dreams...
This one was really more like two different stories that happened in the same location at an airport.
I was waiting in an airport for something. I'm not sure what it was, but I know I wasn't flying anywhere. Maybe I was waiting for someone to arrive?
The airport itself was a vague amalgamation of all the various airports I've been in over the last month. Stone pillars, uncomfortable plastic seats, and lots of big windows looking out onto the airfield.
I was reading a webcomic on my laptop, and mentioned to someone about all the fan-produced poetry and songs that appeared in the comments sections. I talked mostly about how weird and inappropriate it seemed. The woman I was talking to somehow got the impression that I was saying I could do better. She totally agreed with me and said that she couldn't wait to hear it.
Over the next few minutes, things quickly got much worse. The woman somehow spread the word around the airport that I was writing a virtual symphony based on this comic. There were other famous musicians and poets present too, and she roped them into performing the amazing symphony I was supposed to have ready in just a few minutes.
I frantically tried to tell her, "It's a webcomic! Look, it's just a collection of individual comic strips with goofy humor and sight gags about mad scientists and explosions. There's no way to do anything musical with that!" All any of them had to do was read one strip and they would immediately have seen that what they expected me to do was impossible, but nobody would.
The crazy woman even managed to find some kind of Eastern tea master, who served us all some kind of exotic brew before we were to perform. I thought, Well, all these guys are so good, maybe we'll be able to fake something half-way decent.
It didn't happen. People crowded around us as we all prepared to play, and I finally had to step forward and admit that I had nothing for them. I tried to explain again, but no one would listen. They were seriously angry and offended. A red-faced man said to me, "No, no. Get away from me. Don't even talk to me."
As far as every person in the airport was concerned, I had let them all down and completely failed at being alive. Rejected and ostricized, I wandered outside. Finding a grassy patch of lawn, I sat down and gazed up at the clear blue sky.
Something shifted and then I was back on that same lawn. Time had passed, and something had changed, even though nothing was different. Looking back, I think that the strange shift was actually me, leaving REM sleep for a time before falling back into it.
I looked up into the sky and saw an odd black spot in the blue sky. As I watched it grew larger, until it was as big as the moon in the sky. People were already pointing and running around in a panic. Then the black spot split apart into five seperate black shapes. They were all vaguely human-shaped.
Aliens were invading. Huge featureless black aliens. The fact that these aliens were gigantic, could fly, and had all kinds of dangerous weapons didn't deter me in the least as I ran toward the nearest one that had just landed on the runway. It kicked over an airliner, causing the plane to explode.
I didn't have any strange inexplicable super-powers or weapons that only now became apparent. There wasn't even the expectation of any. I remember just assuming that somehow, I would defeat them.
It had almost reached the airport itself when I got to it's foot and, without hesitating, began climbing. I somehow made it up to the neck and encountered the pilot. As I fought him hand-to-hand, I was vaguely aware of the other giant alien machines encountering resistance as well, though I'm not sure what it was. After a few minutes of fighting I managed to kick the pilot in the neck. I felt something like bones break under the black muscles as my foot connected, and the alien fell.
Then I woke up.
Yeah, I'm venting again. I shouldn't try to write so soon after these things happen, but it's been a while since I remembered a dream clearly.
Dreams...
This one was really more like two different stories that happened in the same location at an airport.
I was waiting in an airport for something. I'm not sure what it was, but I know I wasn't flying anywhere. Maybe I was waiting for someone to arrive?
The airport itself was a vague amalgamation of all the various airports I've been in over the last month. Stone pillars, uncomfortable plastic seats, and lots of big windows looking out onto the airfield.
I was reading a webcomic on my laptop, and mentioned to someone about all the fan-produced poetry and songs that appeared in the comments sections. I talked mostly about how weird and inappropriate it seemed. The woman I was talking to somehow got the impression that I was saying I could do better. She totally agreed with me and said that she couldn't wait to hear it.
Over the next few minutes, things quickly got much worse. The woman somehow spread the word around the airport that I was writing a virtual symphony based on this comic. There were other famous musicians and poets present too, and she roped them into performing the amazing symphony I was supposed to have ready in just a few minutes.
I frantically tried to tell her, "It's a webcomic! Look, it's just a collection of individual comic strips with goofy humor and sight gags about mad scientists and explosions. There's no way to do anything musical with that!" All any of them had to do was read one strip and they would immediately have seen that what they expected me to do was impossible, but nobody would.
The crazy woman even managed to find some kind of Eastern tea master, who served us all some kind of exotic brew before we were to perform. I thought, Well, all these guys are so good, maybe we'll be able to fake something half-way decent.
It didn't happen. People crowded around us as we all prepared to play, and I finally had to step forward and admit that I had nothing for them. I tried to explain again, but no one would listen. They were seriously angry and offended. A red-faced man said to me, "No, no. Get away from me. Don't even talk to me."
As far as every person in the airport was concerned, I had let them all down and completely failed at being alive. Rejected and ostricized, I wandered outside. Finding a grassy patch of lawn, I sat down and gazed up at the clear blue sky.
Something shifted and then I was back on that same lawn. Time had passed, and something had changed, even though nothing was different. Looking back, I think that the strange shift was actually me, leaving REM sleep for a time before falling back into it.
I looked up into the sky and saw an odd black spot in the blue sky. As I watched it grew larger, until it was as big as the moon in the sky. People were already pointing and running around in a panic. Then the black spot split apart into five seperate black shapes. They were all vaguely human-shaped.
Aliens were invading. Huge featureless black aliens. The fact that these aliens were gigantic, could fly, and had all kinds of dangerous weapons didn't deter me in the least as I ran toward the nearest one that had just landed on the runway. It kicked over an airliner, causing the plane to explode.
I didn't have any strange inexplicable super-powers or weapons that only now became apparent. There wasn't even the expectation of any. I remember just assuming that somehow, I would defeat them.
It had almost reached the airport itself when I got to it's foot and, without hesitating, began climbing. I somehow made it up to the neck and encountered the pilot. As I fought him hand-to-hand, I was vaguely aware of the other giant alien machines encountering resistance as well, though I'm not sure what it was. After a few minutes of fighting I managed to kick the pilot in the neck. I felt something like bones break under the black muscles as my foot connected, and the alien fell.
Then I woke up.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Why can't drawing be as easy as writing?
I probably shouldn't be surprised. I've been writing for the last 20 years (two-thirds) of my life. During that time I've produced maybe about 1% as much visual art. Oh well, practice practice practice... Maybe one day I'll be able to get drunk and draw even better than I do sober.
Not that I write better after a few drinks... I just write about different things. It's just that I've been writing for so long, I don't need to think clearly to do it. Hell, I could probably write in my sleep if you put a keyboard under my hands. Hmmm.... there's a thought. I could call it RFM (Rapid Finger Movement)
Yeah, I've been drinking a bit. A did her usual drink heavily/pass-out early routine. So in retribution, I'm using her computer to gripe anonymously about her online. I generally try to keep my current relationship issues away from here, but I'm bitter and needed to vent. Sometimes I wish I could play these stupid relationship games.
I guess that's not quite true. I can play the games when I want to, but that's all they are to me: games. It's all too often that A and I are arguing and it devolves into this verbal duel over who's right and who's wrong, never mind whatever it was that we were arguing about in the beginning. And inevitably I just make it worse by not taking it seriously enough.
Okay, that's enough griping. Dreams!
I was one of four archaeologists, exploring some kind of huge underground temple. We were all completely kitted out with tools, weapons and body armor. I wasn't sure at first what they expected ust to need body armor and weapons for, but as I entered a great hall, one of the massive stone pillars nearby suddenly broke at the base and tipped toward me.
I was barely able to dive out of the way... directly into the path of another broken and falling stone pillar. At the last second one of my team was able to pulle me out of the way before I saw fully crushed under the weight of all that stone.
We looked ahead uncertainly at the dozens of grey stone piillars that filled the hall. Another of my collegues shrugged and aimed a grenade launcher at the nearest pillars. before I could stop him, he fired several shots off.
"Some of those might actually be holding up the ceiling!" I shouted at him as all the nearby pillars toppled. From the massive stone blocks that fell down from the roof of the hall with them, I could tell I was right. The entire chamber was caving in.
I and the other three teammembers quicklly secured our helmets and huddled in an alcove as stone and earth rained down on the tomb. As sunlight began to spill down from above, I realized from the direction we'd been traveling that we were almost certainly underneath a populated area. Dragging one of the other archaeologists behind me, I ran in the direction of the collapse. We had to help the civilians as roads and foundations collapsed beneath them. Then I woke up.
Unfortunately, I never got the chance to help anybody.
Not that I write better after a few drinks... I just write about different things. It's just that I've been writing for so long, I don't need to think clearly to do it. Hell, I could probably write in my sleep if you put a keyboard under my hands. Hmmm.... there's a thought. I could call it RFM (Rapid Finger Movement)
Yeah, I've been drinking a bit. A did her usual drink heavily/pass-out early routine. So in retribution, I'm using her computer to gripe anonymously about her online. I generally try to keep my current relationship issues away from here, but I'm bitter and needed to vent. Sometimes I wish I could play these stupid relationship games.
I guess that's not quite true. I can play the games when I want to, but that's all they are to me: games. It's all too often that A and I are arguing and it devolves into this verbal duel over who's right and who's wrong, never mind whatever it was that we were arguing about in the beginning. And inevitably I just make it worse by not taking it seriously enough.
Okay, that's enough griping. Dreams!
I was one of four archaeologists, exploring some kind of huge underground temple. We were all completely kitted out with tools, weapons and body armor. I wasn't sure at first what they expected ust to need body armor and weapons for, but as I entered a great hall, one of the massive stone pillars nearby suddenly broke at the base and tipped toward me.
I was barely able to dive out of the way... directly into the path of another broken and falling stone pillar. At the last second one of my team was able to pulle me out of the way before I saw fully crushed under the weight of all that stone.
We looked ahead uncertainly at the dozens of grey stone piillars that filled the hall. Another of my collegues shrugged and aimed a grenade launcher at the nearest pillars. before I could stop him, he fired several shots off.
"Some of those might actually be holding up the ceiling!" I shouted at him as all the nearby pillars toppled. From the massive stone blocks that fell down from the roof of the hall with them, I could tell I was right. The entire chamber was caving in.
I and the other three teammembers quicklly secured our helmets and huddled in an alcove as stone and earth rained down on the tomb. As sunlight began to spill down from above, I realized from the direction we'd been traveling that we were almost certainly underneath a populated area. Dragging one of the other archaeologists behind me, I ran in the direction of the collapse. We had to help the civilians as roads and foundations collapsed beneath them. Then I woke up.
Unfortunately, I never got the chance to help anybody.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Deep sleep paralysis
I've heard of sleep paralysis before. It's where your brain wakes up before your body does. Somehow the mental block that keeps you from moving and walking around while you dream hasn't switched off yet. You're fully concious, but you can't move. Most of my friends who have experienced it say that it's very frightening. It takes several seconds for the body to wake up, and during that time they lay there with their eyes open staring at the ceiling, fighting down panic because they seem to be paralyzed. What I experienced sounds similar but it was much deeper.
My mind woke up, but it was as if that was all that happened. I couldn't feel my body or open my eyes. I couldn't even remember who I was, or that I was supposed to have a body. I didn't panic, because I didn't realize that there was anything missing to panic about. The only way I can describe it is to say that I was like a speck of consciousness floating in an endless black void. Like some kind of distilation of Descarte's famous statement, "I think, therefore I am." I was unaware of anything beyond my own existence.
I wonder if I would have eventually started to worry if I'd had enough time to think about it. Or would I have been content to just drift through the nothingness without memories or thoughts, just awareness? But the rest of me was slowly waking up. The first thing I became aware of was my body. I was laying on my back in bed with a blanket over me. That's right I had a body, didn't I? I didn't try to move, but I don't think I could have at that point. The physical sensations I received from my arms and legs were faint and distant, as if they weren't really mine.
Realizing I had eyes, I opened them and looked up at the ceiling. The ceiling was familiar, because this was my room, and I was laying in my bed. With that realization came the memories, and I remembered who I was. It didn't come as a sudden revelation, just as if a door had quietly been opened in my mind and I was now free to enter it and see the memories within.
As this was all happening the feeling was returning to the rest of my body. I lifted my arm slowly until the covers fell away and I looked at it. Yes, it was my hand, right where it should be. Putting my arm back down I flexed my fingers and toes experimentally, as if they might not have been mine. In another moment the strange unfamiliarity with my own body faded and I was fully awake.
I keep thinking back to that moment just after waking. Was I myself, when I was nothing but a point of consciousness aware of nothing but my own existence? Did I have a personality when I didn't know who or even what I was? At the very least I was self-aware. Although everything else seemed strange and unfamiliar at first as I came awake and became aware of it, at no point did I feel like that core awareness at the center was anything other than myself.
My mind woke up, but it was as if that was all that happened. I couldn't feel my body or open my eyes. I couldn't even remember who I was, or that I was supposed to have a body. I didn't panic, because I didn't realize that there was anything missing to panic about. The only way I can describe it is to say that I was like a speck of consciousness floating in an endless black void. Like some kind of distilation of Descarte's famous statement, "I think, therefore I am." I was unaware of anything beyond my own existence.
I wonder if I would have eventually started to worry if I'd had enough time to think about it. Or would I have been content to just drift through the nothingness without memories or thoughts, just awareness? But the rest of me was slowly waking up. The first thing I became aware of was my body. I was laying on my back in bed with a blanket over me. That's right I had a body, didn't I? I didn't try to move, but I don't think I could have at that point. The physical sensations I received from my arms and legs were faint and distant, as if they weren't really mine.
Realizing I had eyes, I opened them and looked up at the ceiling. The ceiling was familiar, because this was my room, and I was laying in my bed. With that realization came the memories, and I remembered who I was. It didn't come as a sudden revelation, just as if a door had quietly been opened in my mind and I was now free to enter it and see the memories within.
As this was all happening the feeling was returning to the rest of my body. I lifted my arm slowly until the covers fell away and I looked at it. Yes, it was my hand, right where it should be. Putting my arm back down I flexed my fingers and toes experimentally, as if they might not have been mine. In another moment the strange unfamiliarity with my own body faded and I was fully awake.
I keep thinking back to that moment just after waking. Was I myself, when I was nothing but a point of consciousness aware of nothing but my own existence? Did I have a personality when I didn't know who or even what I was? At the very least I was self-aware. Although everything else seemed strange and unfamiliar at first as I came awake and became aware of it, at no point did I feel like that core awareness at the center was anything other than myself.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Forgotten dreams
I miss my dreams. I barely remember anything any more. Even while I'm still asleep, as I approach wakefulness I aready feel the memories of what I've been doing fading and becoming more jumbled.
I remember driving through a mountain pass. Reaching the apex, I started downhill again, but the road sloped sharply down to an impossible angle. It was so steep I had no chance of stopping and just held on to the wheel and steered through it as best I could. Incredibly, I made it to the bottom of the hill, only to see another car approaching on my side of the road! I swerved into the oncoming lane to narrowly miss him. There was a police car just past him, and the officer immediately pulled me over for driving on the wrong side of the road. Not because it turned out I was in Europe or something, but for those few seconds I was in the other lane avoiding the other car.
"What about the other guy?" I asked, pointing to the other car. It was still in view, slowly climbing the impossibly steep hill, still on the wrong side of the road.
The officer ignored me and handed me my ticket.
My radio crackled to life and said I was needed in town to help with some kind of emergency. I stamped down on the accelerator and raced toward town, ignoring the angry calls of the policeman behind me. At this point I was coming close to waking up, and my mind was becoming jumbled. There was some kind of fight. I encountered a gang who I think helped me out somehow.
The next thing I knew I was laying on a bed. It wasn't my bed; I was still dreaming. A woman was standing over me on my right. I couldn't see her face, only her torso and arms as she worked on me. There was a large fire very close to us and there were beads of sweat on her skin from the heat. She was healing my wounds.
How had I been wounded, I wondered? The fight was hazy. Something had grabbed my arm... My arm was missing! My left arm had been torn off by... something. The woman leaned over me and I felt my panic fading as she tended to what remained of my left shoulder. She could fix it, she assured me. Science or magic, I didn't know how but I immediately believed that she would somehow replace/regenerate my missing arm.
She continued to work, leaning over me to get to my arm. Her skin seemed to glow in the golden firelight, and I watched the sweat run down her side. She was sweating not just from heat, but from exertion as well. I could feel my arm slowly regrowing from the shoulder down.
It had just reached the elbow when somewhere behind me I heard a door kicked open and a woman scream. I didn't know if it was the same things that had taken my arm or some new threat, but I immediately I reached up and wrapped my good right arm around the healer's waist and rolled to the left. Pulling her with me, we rolled over and off the edge of the bed. Once we were on the floor, she reached up and grabbed the sheets, pulling them down over us. As we huddled under our camoflage, we heard more screams.
I had to find out what was going on and help somehow. I tried to get up, but the woman grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let me rise. She wasn't afraid, only sure that if I tried to fight them here we would both die. Our only hope was to hide until they passed by.
Then I woke up.
I remember driving through a mountain pass. Reaching the apex, I started downhill again, but the road sloped sharply down to an impossible angle. It was so steep I had no chance of stopping and just held on to the wheel and steered through it as best I could. Incredibly, I made it to the bottom of the hill, only to see another car approaching on my side of the road! I swerved into the oncoming lane to narrowly miss him. There was a police car just past him, and the officer immediately pulled me over for driving on the wrong side of the road. Not because it turned out I was in Europe or something, but for those few seconds I was in the other lane avoiding the other car.
"What about the other guy?" I asked, pointing to the other car. It was still in view, slowly climbing the impossibly steep hill, still on the wrong side of the road.
The officer ignored me and handed me my ticket.
My radio crackled to life and said I was needed in town to help with some kind of emergency. I stamped down on the accelerator and raced toward town, ignoring the angry calls of the policeman behind me. At this point I was coming close to waking up, and my mind was becoming jumbled. There was some kind of fight. I encountered a gang who I think helped me out somehow.
The next thing I knew I was laying on a bed. It wasn't my bed; I was still dreaming. A woman was standing over me on my right. I couldn't see her face, only her torso and arms as she worked on me. There was a large fire very close to us and there were beads of sweat on her skin from the heat. She was healing my wounds.
How had I been wounded, I wondered? The fight was hazy. Something had grabbed my arm... My arm was missing! My left arm had been torn off by... something. The woman leaned over me and I felt my panic fading as she tended to what remained of my left shoulder. She could fix it, she assured me. Science or magic, I didn't know how but I immediately believed that she would somehow replace/regenerate my missing arm.
She continued to work, leaning over me to get to my arm. Her skin seemed to glow in the golden firelight, and I watched the sweat run down her side. She was sweating not just from heat, but from exertion as well. I could feel my arm slowly regrowing from the shoulder down.
It had just reached the elbow when somewhere behind me I heard a door kicked open and a woman scream. I didn't know if it was the same things that had taken my arm or some new threat, but I immediately I reached up and wrapped my good right arm around the healer's waist and rolled to the left. Pulling her with me, we rolled over and off the edge of the bed. Once we were on the floor, she reached up and grabbed the sheets, pulling them down over us. As we huddled under our camoflage, we heard more screams.
I had to find out what was going on and help somehow. I tried to get up, but the woman grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let me rise. She wasn't afraid, only sure that if I tried to fight them here we would both die. Our only hope was to hide until they passed by.
Then I woke up.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Technology gone mad in the near future - part 2
The scene shifted and I was the special forces operative again. My partner had succeeded in getting my armor off and was applying nano-tech medicine to my injuries. She took several small clamps out of her pack and used them to pinch my wounds shut. The nano-machines couldn't close the wounds themselves, but once the clamps were in place the machines could knit the flesh back together. The procedure was not without pain, but it took only a minute or so for the injuries to mend and smooth over into perfectly healthy skin again.
Once I'd wrestled my way back into my armor again, we both entered the building complex from the warehouse. On the way, we passed a large room separated from us by a huge picture window. Inside was a monsterous dog-like creature. Its entire body was sleek and powerful, and its skin glowed with pure pico-tech. Its head had no mouth, nose or ears. It only had a single large red eye that glowed. As it watched us pass the whole thing just radiated menace and danger, and we gave it a wide berth.
There was another brief scene shift, and I was the CEO again. I was speaking to the chief science officer. "Release the Devil Dog."
He hesitated. "Sir, we haven't been able to fully test the restraint programs yet. It's possible that it could go on another rampage. We barely caught it in time the last time that happened."
"If they get to us everything is lost anyway."
As soon as the glass opened and the dog left the containment cell though, I knew something was wrong.
Once I'd wrestled my way back into my armor again, we both entered the building complex from the warehouse. On the way, we passed a large room separated from us by a huge picture window. Inside was a monsterous dog-like creature. Its entire body was sleek and powerful, and its skin glowed with pure pico-tech. Its head had no mouth, nose or ears. It only had a single large red eye that glowed. As it watched us pass the whole thing just radiated menace and danger, and we gave it a wide berth.
There was another brief scene shift, and I was the CEO again. I was speaking to the chief science officer. "Release the Devil Dog."
He hesitated. "Sir, we haven't been able to fully test the restraint programs yet. It's possible that it could go on another rampage. We barely caught it in time the last time that happened."
"If they get to us everything is lost anyway."
As soon as the glass opened and the dog left the containment cell though, I knew something was wrong.
Less dreams
It's been a stressful few months. The company I work for was bought out and there was a huge shift in upper management. I've spent the last month practically relearning my whole job. In the midst of this I realized that the new meds weren't helping very much. Not only that, but I had started experiencing a new side effect in the form of random anxiety attacks. So I called my doctor and they signed me up for heart surgery.
Now I find myself back on the original meds and honestly, I'm feeling more like myself than I have in several months. Unfortunately, It means I don't remember nearly as many of my dreams any more. I'll still make the attempt to record any that I can, but we'll see how it goes...
Now I find myself back on the original meds and honestly, I'm feeling more like myself than I have in several months. Unfortunately, It means I don't remember nearly as many of my dreams any more. I'll still make the attempt to record any that I can, but we'll see how it goes...
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Godzilla dream
I fell asleep while watching an old Godzilla movie. The movie kept going while I slept, which resulted in some odd dreams.
In the one I remember most, I was in an apartment with an unfamiliar Asian girl. I had the distinct impression that it wasn't her apartment either. We were watching TV when a news report interrupted to say that Godzilla was attacking the city.
I excused myself to use the bathroom, but found it was infested with lobsters, crabs and frogs. They were all crawling up through the drains. I decided that I didn't have to go to the bathroom that bad, but did my best to herd all the animals into the shower stall and shut the door on them. Meanwhile, Godzilla was getting closer to our apartment building.
Neither of us seemed to be concerned in the least as we watched him approach through the windows, even when he smashed in the side of our building.
In the one I remember most, I was in an apartment with an unfamiliar Asian girl. I had the distinct impression that it wasn't her apartment either. We were watching TV when a news report interrupted to say that Godzilla was attacking the city.
I excused myself to use the bathroom, but found it was infested with lobsters, crabs and frogs. They were all crawling up through the drains. I decided that I didn't have to go to the bathroom that bad, but did my best to herd all the animals into the shower stall and shut the door on them. Meanwhile, Godzilla was getting closer to our apartment building.
Neither of us seemed to be concerned in the least as we watched him approach through the windows, even when he smashed in the side of our building.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Technology gone mad in the near future - part 1
My dreams usually progress like stories: jumping quickly between different scenes and even points of view. This was definitely one of those.
I was a special forces operative. My partner and I were approaching our objective: a large three-story corporate building. We both wore black nano-woven carbon body armor and had belts and packs festooned with myriad high-tech weapons and gear. She was black, with her hair tied back in a pony-tail, while my own head was shaven.
The eight-lane highway that separated us from the building was packed with cars and trucks flying by us. There was no way that we could cross it and we were forced to crawl on hands and knees through a narrow drainage pipe that ran underneath it. My smaller partner was able to make her way through without much difficulty, but I had to work to squeeze my wide shoulders through.
On the other side we came out into a concrete loading dock. No one was visible as we crossed it to wall of the building, keeping low. A semi was backed up to one of the loading bays, which was open to receive it. I crept up and looked quickly inside through the gap between the trailer and the building. There were only stacked boxes inside the warehouse space and no people.
I was about to climb in when my partner pointed up with a gloved hand. "Look!"
Something huge shot upward from the roof of the building. It was nearly invisible in the sky, but as it flew through the clouds they flowed around it, revealing it to have the shape of a huge sphere. I knew immediately that it was a focused EMP, shaped and fired from a device on the roof. We had failed in our mission to stop them from using it.
Another EMP shot into the sky. This one intersected with an unfortunate passenger jet and immediately fried all the electronics on board. We watched in horror as the jet fell out of the sky and crashed in a massive explosion of flame and debris a few blocks away. Several drivers on the highway saw the crash as well and were distracted enough to crash into each other. The highway was immediately a disaster as trucks and cars, unable to stop, plowed into the wreckage.
There was a crash, and the sound of chain-link fence tearing apart. I grabbed my partner and threw us both to the ground as a semi drove off the highway and through the fence into the loading dock at full speed. It hit the opposite side of the semi we were hiding beneath. As a second truck followed almost immediately behind the first into the loading dock and metal debris flew around us, I remember thinking it was a good thing we were wearing body armor.
Once the dust had settled, we crawled out from under the twisted metal and away from the leaking diesel fuel. The warehouse wall had collapsed in the destruction, and it was easy for us to enter now. Although we had both survived the incident, we hadn't escaped without injury. She and I were both battered and bruised, and my armor had been punctured in the shoulder by several steel rods in spite of my armor. Above us, we could hear the EMPs continuing to be fired.
As my partner helped me struggle out of my armor to address the wounds, the scene shifted.
I sat in my expansive office on the top floor of the same corporate building. On one of several computer screens above my desk, I watched the two members of special forces in the warehouse. The EMP gun had functioned exactly as expected. It had almost finished its list of targets, most of which were military bases and centers of power across the globe. Several weaker nations had already offered secret capitulation to our demands, although I was sure they were still holding out hope for one of their stronger neighbors to stop us. The plan had gone perfectly thus far, and I wouldn't let those two do anything to foul things up.
I looked to my second-in-command and chief scientist, who was standing quietly nearby. He appeared to be staring off into space, but I knew he was using the picotech that had been implanted in his brain to communicate with all our divisions, as well as to directly oversee the actions of other semi-intelligent machines throughout the building. "Get rid of them," I ordered.
He blinked and looked at me with a detached expression. "Yes, sir." As he turned to leave, I could see the grotesque bulge at the base of his skull which held the picotech hardware that allowed him to communicate and control the other machines. I couldn't help grimacing at the inelegance of it. The scientist had been willing to accept the enhancements offered by our new picotechnology, but had balked at actually replacing anything. Unlike myself.
I looked at my reflection in the glass of a nearby window. The top of my head was gone, revealing not a biological brain but a jumble of black metal highlighted across all its surfaces by intricate glowing blue circuits. The picotech circuit boards shifted and moved, constantly rearranging themselves to follow my thought processes. My reflection smiled back at me.
To be continued
I was a special forces operative. My partner and I were approaching our objective: a large three-story corporate building. We both wore black nano-woven carbon body armor and had belts and packs festooned with myriad high-tech weapons and gear. She was black, with her hair tied back in a pony-tail, while my own head was shaven.
The eight-lane highway that separated us from the building was packed with cars and trucks flying by us. There was no way that we could cross it and we were forced to crawl on hands and knees through a narrow drainage pipe that ran underneath it. My smaller partner was able to make her way through without much difficulty, but I had to work to squeeze my wide shoulders through.
On the other side we came out into a concrete loading dock. No one was visible as we crossed it to wall of the building, keeping low. A semi was backed up to one of the loading bays, which was open to receive it. I crept up and looked quickly inside through the gap between the trailer and the building. There were only stacked boxes inside the warehouse space and no people.
I was about to climb in when my partner pointed up with a gloved hand. "Look!"
Something huge shot upward from the roof of the building. It was nearly invisible in the sky, but as it flew through the clouds they flowed around it, revealing it to have the shape of a huge sphere. I knew immediately that it was a focused EMP, shaped and fired from a device on the roof. We had failed in our mission to stop them from using it.
Another EMP shot into the sky. This one intersected with an unfortunate passenger jet and immediately fried all the electronics on board. We watched in horror as the jet fell out of the sky and crashed in a massive explosion of flame and debris a few blocks away. Several drivers on the highway saw the crash as well and were distracted enough to crash into each other. The highway was immediately a disaster as trucks and cars, unable to stop, plowed into the wreckage.
There was a crash, and the sound of chain-link fence tearing apart. I grabbed my partner and threw us both to the ground as a semi drove off the highway and through the fence into the loading dock at full speed. It hit the opposite side of the semi we were hiding beneath. As a second truck followed almost immediately behind the first into the loading dock and metal debris flew around us, I remember thinking it was a good thing we were wearing body armor.
Once the dust had settled, we crawled out from under the twisted metal and away from the leaking diesel fuel. The warehouse wall had collapsed in the destruction, and it was easy for us to enter now. Although we had both survived the incident, we hadn't escaped without injury. She and I were both battered and bruised, and my armor had been punctured in the shoulder by several steel rods in spite of my armor. Above us, we could hear the EMPs continuing to be fired.
As my partner helped me struggle out of my armor to address the wounds, the scene shifted.
I sat in my expansive office on the top floor of the same corporate building. On one of several computer screens above my desk, I watched the two members of special forces in the warehouse. The EMP gun had functioned exactly as expected. It had almost finished its list of targets, most of which were military bases and centers of power across the globe. Several weaker nations had already offered secret capitulation to our demands, although I was sure they were still holding out hope for one of their stronger neighbors to stop us. The plan had gone perfectly thus far, and I wouldn't let those two do anything to foul things up.
I looked to my second-in-command and chief scientist, who was standing quietly nearby. He appeared to be staring off into space, but I knew he was using the picotech that had been implanted in his brain to communicate with all our divisions, as well as to directly oversee the actions of other semi-intelligent machines throughout the building. "Get rid of them," I ordered.
He blinked and looked at me with a detached expression. "Yes, sir." As he turned to leave, I could see the grotesque bulge at the base of his skull which held the picotech hardware that allowed him to communicate and control the other machines. I couldn't help grimacing at the inelegance of it. The scientist had been willing to accept the enhancements offered by our new picotechnology, but had balked at actually replacing anything. Unlike myself.
I looked at my reflection in the glass of a nearby window. The top of my head was gone, revealing not a biological brain but a jumble of black metal highlighted across all its surfaces by intricate glowing blue circuits. The picotech circuit boards shifted and moved, constantly rearranging themselves to follow my thought processes. My reflection smiled back at me.
To be continued
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