I don't normally node dream logs, but last night was a strange one. First, I dreamt that Cool Man Eddie paid me a visit. There was little difference between what was happening on my computer and what was happening in real life, so I could not distinguish whether Eddie was a physical being or a digital construct. Anyway, four of my nodes got C!s in one day. Truly, it was a dream.

Then a memory passed into my high school math class. I was sitting there, bored to tears, and my buddy, Joe, passes me a note. It's the beginning of a newsletter. The newsletter encouraged people to commit suicide. There were articles on methods, things to watch out for, common mistakes people made, lists of the most popular methods, etc. But the main thrust was that the reader's life was pathetic, absurd, and pointless, so there was nothing lost in ending it. We passed it back and forth while the teacher was not looking and added to it. Eventually, it was two or three handwritten pages.

Now, this really happened way back in 1987 during my sophomore year. This realization hit me, and I separated from my dream consciousness into a meta-consciousness, for lack of a better term. I was multithreading, in a sense. Though in the dream, I was laughing my ass off, my over-mind was thinking about how, if this had happened post-Columbine instead of in 1987, we would have likely been expelled for writing and distributing such dreck. Then a sadness crept over my meta-mind, as my dream-self was dragged to the principal's office. What was I thinking? What if someone read it and acted on it? No one acted on it, to our knowledge, except for our teacher, principal, and counselors. They made sure we weren't suicidal and then punished us with in-school suspension.

I awoke fifteen minutes before the alarm was set to go off. I was sad. My mind wandered and ultimately wondered whatever became of Joe and our newsletter. I think the administration confiscated it and destroyed it, but then I think I remembered that an office aide friend of ours smuggled it out for us.

With all these thoughts running through my mind, I got ready for work.

We were on his couch, and he was kissing me. This is not unusual, for we have kissed on this same couch more times than I can count. He leaned me back onto the arm of the couch and kissed my neck, then slid a hand underneath my skirt. I made him stop (as I always intend to do), I told him, "Love is supposed to be beautiful, and we're making a mockery of it."


Then I was in the car, my mother was driving on the turnpike. The sky was some sunset hue of orange and purple, the trees were black in silhouette, and I notice a car that's driving slightly strange on the road, but in the strange light of entry into night I mistake it for a trick of the eyes. Then we come across the car, and it's making a three-point turn in the middle of the interstate. Not smart, we broadsided the thing, but surprisingly, barely felt a bump. Not bad for hitting something head on doing 80.

They didn't seem to be too surprised either, though they flew forward on the road, hitting the median then spinning off of it. They managed to right themselves and continue driving as if nothing had happened, though their bumper was shredded and the engine was shooting off sparks in neon orange arcs...


I was in deep space (abandoned...are you ready?)...I was alone, but I had my mission. I just didn't know what it was yet. And I am pulled, I see my earth, my home, and am yanked back. I see every one of the planets as I fly past them, I see our solar system, and I continue to pull back, I see our galaxy, I see many galaxies, I see the entire cluster to which we belong and it's an opalescent dolphin made of stardust, with our Milky Way as it's shining eye.

Yes, but what about the mission? My field of vision shifts and I see another cluster of galaxies, another translucent dolphin near our own. And I realize what I have to do, I have to make the other dolphin love my own...I know how to do this, I have the power to make the stars fall in love. The eye of the other dolphin, a galaxy that shines like our own...quickly extinguishes, then reignites. It winked at me, at us all, and the light shone toward us, and our light toward it, and met in the middle, creating a rose-colored nebula. It was love, it was creation.


I flew through a burst of orange-pink stratocumulus, and I was home.

And then I was awake.

I'm in a huge warehouse, adorned with huge hanging velvet curtains of purple, burgundy and gold, covering the walls and ceiling. The place is a huge combination whorehouse, strip joint and sex-toy clearance center. It's like the Wal-Mart of sin.

I walk around some of the displays, peering at the odd items within, some of them quite colorful and twisted into weird shapes. I notice the live nude girls, walking, dancing, giving lapdances. I watch the bodyguards,(the place is full of them) all of them bald, bulldog-faced, and staring everyone around them with suspicion, especially me.

I talk to a prostitute for a while. She lies on a luxurious bed, and we're in a private room. She is wearing velvet gloves. She is very relaxed. She stretches and smiles a lot, her curly red hair spills out over the satin sheets. She laughs at all my jokes. Maybe I buy her services, maybe I don't. I don't remember.

If I had I think I would remember.

I go into the parking lot to leave. A white van is there, menacing. A policeman, climbs out. He drags me into the back of the van and shuts the door. He curses, and spits and seethes. He threatens and shouts. He grits his teeth. He looks just like the cop from the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, but he doesn't want to kiss me.

He wants to frame me for something and haul me in. I knock him out, or I kill him, I don't remember. I hide his unconscious body/corpse in a bush.

I'm trying to run away. I steal the van, the unmarked police van. I steal it. And I drive really fast. I drive really fast in a stolen, unmarked, police van.

I drive through a ski-resort. I'm on a snowmobile. An unmarked, white snowmobile. I stop.

My sister is there. She ignores me.

My mother's best friend, since high school is there. She smiles. She lectures me. She tells me things I already know. But I am in a hurry. I'm getting antsy and she's smiling and lecturing. Lecturing about skiing, about speed-skating, about safety.

The sky is a fierce, darkest blue, with stars. Hard stars. The slope has rails, with vibrant colors. Eight colors. And I'm trying to escape on my unmarked, white, police snowmobile. But she's lecturing about something. Skiing?

Who cares? I have a van again. An unmarked police van. It's white. I disappear down the slope.


I... drift.

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