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Sci-Fi Trojan Horse

  • Around 5AM, my bladder lifted me out of the void of deep sleep into the often-trippy hypnagogic state. Once there, I began solving complex math equations in my head. I wasn't truly aware of what I was doing until I had fully woken up but I was calculating something based on Omega Point theory, the Drake Equation, Bayes' Theorem and other similarly wacky shit. It seems my subconscious likes to run complex mathematical computing tasks in my brain's idle time. SETI@Mind?

  • I am a Queen on a highly-advanced planet which is at war with another space-faring race. I am in a room with many other long-robed women and we are about to aid in the birth of a giant white tiger. The ten-foot long placenta was delivered a gift from a royal admirer. We watch as the portal breaches and a smooth white body slips out into the folds of the tapestry we have laid on the floor. It is a woman. We step back in surprise as she slowly stands to her feet. There is a thick silver collar around her neck, ornamented in the shapes of olive branches and grapes. As we stand dumb, she reaches back into the placenta and retrieves another similarly worked silver piece, shaped like a large horse shoe. She fits this over her head and it clicks into place with the other piece. There is a hum of electricity and she immediately flies straight upward with incredible speed and explodes through the ceiling. I follow quickly upon her, now having realized that she was an agent for the enemy. I burst into an immense, cavernous room, the size of an airplane hangar. It is the central power station for my city, maintained by specially trained women with psychic energy-guiding abilities. All except one has been stricken dead and the last cannot control it much longer. But this is the least of my worries. I know that the agent is already in the process of triggering a psychic explosion to destroy my city. I fly like an arrow towards the front of the cavern and burst into daylight. I fly up and up, knowing all hope is lost and gaze on my city one last time, even as the first dull explosions begin to rumble: one building, higher than a skyscraper, wider than ten pentagons, and shaped like a beautifully intricate, multi-faceted origami box. The entire exterior is colored like golden desert sand, except the roof gardens which sprout from all the highest surfaces. It is to one of these I fly for I see more agents have landed there. I fight my last battle with throwing knives, taking as many bodies with my as flames lick the skies and I and my beautiful city perish. Dream ends.
At some point I was part of the SG1 group from Stargate, and we were in some alien world, next to large round object. There were nets over it for climbing on, but Samantha Carter was injured so she couldnt climb. The leader of the group sent some soldiers to carry her up, and I climbed up too to see what was going on. On top of it was a numeric pad, and Samantha quickly keyed in a code. I tried to memorize it just for fun, but it was too complicated. Next she sent an SMS message about what had been done, and I typed in exact copies of her messages and sent them to WWWWolf. She looked at me oddly, and I thought if that was because the messages would have been secret, but then she asked "Why a fox?". I blinked from suprise, but then noticed that she meant the logo on my phone..

After the mission we got into the briefing room, and our equipment was put back to storage. General Hammond gave me a folded paper, which freaked me quite badly because it was the sexy picture of a vixen I've had in my pocket! He said "You forgot your.. ahem.. `fox`, in your vest pocket.", and I quickly snapped the picture from his hand before he could ask any more questions about it..

I walked to the street, nervous about my furry stuff getting revealed, and put the paper in my pocket. I went to some shop, and after paying something with paper money, the salesperson gave back my change, on top of a familiar paper. I grabbed my face in agony as the salesperson said "Eh.. Its quite odd that someone likes mammals like that.." but I left before he could finish..

Geez, I've never dreamt so much about foxes without actually meeting even one!

f / f

  • Walking to the vicar's with my mouse in my pocket, a woman pulled over and asked if we wanted a ride. We looked at each other and laughed, but thanked her anyway. She shook her head and drove on.
  • Flowers from my mother. There was no card but she had attached a fortune cookie fortune that said Thank you, thank you, thank you.
  • I read the box of "smurf earwax eardrops" while on the phone with someone who was describing the world's most vicious vibrator. As she told me about it, a tv picture fomed in front of me. A woman's hand dropped a vibrator into a massively oversized false vagina. I wasn't sure which one they were selling, maybe both. Both, when switched on, shook and jiggled and tried to fell off the table - the model had to keep recentering it for the camera. It did not look pleasant for anyone.
  • A list of reasons: why sex with a man whose penis you aren't fond of cannot possibly lead to STDs or pregnancy.
  • In prison we only got one cookie. Alice Jean was in charge of the cookies and she was weary, I could see. I tried to hurry the other inmates along - they were all firstgraders. I grabbed a pumpkin cookie and ate it. Christina Rocca was repulsed - it had had a bite taken out of it by someone else. "Just a little one," I said. I went over to the bleachers where we had to listen to a motivational speech.

    My mouse got out of my pocket of course, and went running off. I dared not look for him; having him was against the rules. He was gone. I sat and tried to get motivated to something other and guilt and grief.

    A girl whispered to me. She'd found him, he was safe. I headed over to her seat and a tiny missile shot past me in an arc. I'd never seen him jump so far. The girl had discovered he could do tricks - the best one being to leap an incredible distance and replace some props with some other props, far across the room - I think he was trading a paper doll for miniature pillows. We knew he'd be a huge hit, maybe get me paroled.

  • She was horrible, I hated her. She danced around while I lay on the floor helpless. I could see up her skirt. I couldn't wait to beat the hell out of her.
  • I'd made something for the wedding but the bitchy mother-in-law ruined it. I tried to brush off the dirt and she looked at me pityingly. I wanted to pick purple flowers instead but the men were in the garden, and they were awful too. My kittens were under the table and I picked up the smallest, the size of a mouse. The others weren't letting him get enough food; I was worried he might die.

    Later, I saw one of the awful men holding a cat carrier. Explaining to his son that the kitty "needed to go to the hospital for a while." The kid didn't care much and the father was obviously lying, was going to kill the kitten first chance he got. He tossed the cat carrier across the room like a football.

    Like a football, I said. And a football was in my hand. I strode to the couch and slammed the football into his crotch, over and over. He could not move.

I was at the bank, trying to cash a $165 check, but the teller was extremely incompetent when it came to taking my name down. The check was passed around the bank, and no one seemed able to cash it. Finally, they asked me to sign something but no pen was available. My mother and I were asked to sit at a table and wait again, then some bank lady sat beside us and started pointing her finger at my mother. I shook mine and told her not to point fingers, that that was a rude habit. She was outraged and we left. The bank itself was rather odd also. The lobby's ceiling was 30 feet from the ground, and the walls were covered in red satin drapes. Alexander (my brother, 13) and I step outside and agree to meet with mom later on... Alexander suggests a game called "skip traffic," and I agree to play. The game consists of running in between cars, and sonic-style jumping off of the windshields to get to the other side.

Alexander complains about not getting to a party on time, so we take The T out to the woods, where the party is supposed to be. When we get to the gate, there is no one there. Alexander is depressed because someone lied to him. We take the T back and decide to rent a movie and order pizza.

(11/12/200 - I had this dream exactly a month ago, back before I started noding, but it still haunts me so I needed to write it up.)

Diego Rivera is planning to paint a mural at the friend-I'm-staying-at's apartment. The apartment is located in the lower East side of Manhattan so it is necessarily tiny, and the idea of a mural there seems slightly ridiculous. Rivera is willing to cope with that by making the mural similarly tiny.

Rivera keeps going on and on about how this mural must be perfect. Absolutely perfect. He then explains that since he is painting this mural for the appreciation of an artist such as myself he has to worry about its quality. Nothing but perfect will do.

I woke up and had to stop myself from crying because I didn't want to wake up my friend who was sleeping beside me. No one's ever called me an artist. Ever. Never my parents. They still hope it's a phase. Not really my friends. With them I'm a physicist who happens to paint. Not even me.

Maybe I have faith in me after all.

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