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I lay down on the couch to take a quick nap. I start daydreaming and loose control almost immediately. When I enter the dreamworld, I see myself sitting inside a tour bus. It's entirely empty except for the two people sitting way behind me and two more people sitting way in front. I look behind me and see my mother talking with one of her male acquaintances. Sitting in the front of the bus is a girl I've been rather mentally preoccupied with lately. She's talking with one of her old boyfriends. Both pairs seem rather absorbed in their conversations and take no notice of me whatsoever.

The tour bus stops and we all get out. I'm delighted to find that we've come to the open desert. I've never been to the desert, but it has always been my wish to go. The sun is bright and the sand is beautiful.

My mother and her acquaintance, still conversing, begin wandering into the desert. Following them loosly, I hear the other pair wander elsewhere. The girl and her boyfriend walk into a small building that looks similiar to the bathroom facilities you see at highway rest stops. They come out shortly afterwords and I can see they were getting stoned. As I hear them approaching, I don't look back. I notice it doesn't really sound like she's with the same guy anymore.

Then something odd happens. I kindof fall into the sand. I realize it has a vivid, supple texture and become enraptured with it. I question my state of consciousness and become mildy lucid. In the same rushing instant I fall deeper, through the sand. Now all I can see is a swirly darkness, similiar to the state inbetween waking and dreaming consciousness. It's like a living sea of darkness. I feel like I'm floating weightlessly within it.

My thoughts being to move more quickly, and I sense I still have some sort of mental connection with the girl that was behind just moments ago. She's had some problems in her life recently and I'm not entirely sure how to be the best of help. Her happiness is has always been very important to me, so I decided to try and tap into the connection mentally and see if I could explore her mind for answers.

I feel pushed somehwere and am immediately approached by a sentient force that inquires as to my intentions regarding the exploration of the girl's essence. I can feel it reading my thoughts as we communicate effortlessly, telepathically. This act is sublime, and I have never experienced it anywhere else. The being seems to be some sort of guardian or gatekeeper for what I assume to be the girl's mind. My intentions are very pure and I have no problem gaining access whatsoever.

I am I now inside a large room with a circular entrance to what is definately the biggest vault I have ever seen. There is a corner of the room occupied by some sand dunes and two suspended geometrical shapes. A circle and a triangle that look very dynamic and colorful. I sense that I can interact with them, but neglect the opportunity as I refocus on the vault. Things seem very telepathically connected here, as I notice that when my thoughts moved toward the vault it begins to open.

I only had a couple moments to glace into the vault before it's actions overtook me entirely. It looked like white and very dense inside, except for the peculiar dark force (much similiar to the abyss) that was rushing towards my head. It came spiraling towards me with incredible speed. When we connected I felt abruptly shaken and as though it was rushing through every part of my mind. I had the urge to stop, but tried to stay focused on my purpose. I felt a wave of awe as to how real this all felt. It's pace slowed at my astonishment and then quickened again. I realized how this seemed much more like a vision than a dream. I tried to stop the flow of the force and understand what was actually happening. I still felt connected to the force or activated in some way by it somehow. I tried to swoon the power of the current, so as it wouldn't feel so overpowering to my mind. I saw a flash of the vault room again, and then the force eliminated any sense of visuals I previously had. I began feeling and thinking more audibly. There was a steady, but forceful beat. It fluxuated rapidly. An ambient psycedellic overtone began to accompany my mental atmosphere.

I was back floating in the sea of living darkenss now. I tried to assess the experience while still enduring the odd after effects of my experience with the force inside the vault. I decided it was similiar to what I had read of Nikola Tesla's visions. I played with the idea of interacting with this reality. I created a group of large red blocks floating out in space. The act of manifesting the blocks didn't seem to excentuate the understanding I was loking for. I decided I would need to explore more collective vaults, but that it hurt too much at the moment to reorganize myself. I shuddered up out of the dream into darkness. I could tell I was awake now with my eyes closed. Immediately realizing the significance of the event, I rushed to record the experience. When I looked at the clock, I saw that only ten minutes had passed since I had fallen asleep. This meant the dream events moved entirely in real time.

Regarding the intensity and implications of the experience, I consider it more of a vision than a dream. I have only talked with one person since I had the dream who was able to identify places within the dream and who claims to have had similar experience with such a force. He identified the darkness or the gap between the desert and the vault is a real gap between 'here' and 'there' that he calls the living waters. Beyond that gap lies things like the vault and the goddess entity that I experienced. He suggested that my deep connection with and love for this girl would have given me access to this goddess essence. I gained much insight from his interpretations. Although, the experience was truly novel for me and I feel that in order to experience its true implications I will have to = continue to evolve spiritually.

He had been up all evening chmodding files for his new weblog while Lucille lay in bed, snoring away as usual. There was a point during the wee hours of the morning at which he happened to notice the slow disintegration of the walls, crumbling downward as if collapsing under some gross weight. The rabbits were grooming one another beneath the coffee table and the plastic bag atop their hutch seemed to be moving, inching toward him ponderously. He blinked several times and returned to his ftp window.

Right click. Properties/CHMOD. 777. Right click. Properties/CHMOD. 777. Right click. Properties/CHMOD. 777.

He'd been experimenting with many different pieces of blogging software, trying to find the perfect fit for the political commentary of a middle aged internet illiterate. After several hours of endlessly chmodding files, he thought he'd found the perfect piece of software, but there was a problem: the files didn't seem to be chmodding properly. He was starting to become suspicious that he'd chmodded these same files at least three times before, and when he tried to load the cgi files in order to sign in and begin blogging, he received the same error message.

FORBIDDEN : You don't have permission to access load.cgi on this server.

"What the fuck? I just chmodded this file to 777. What the fuck?"

Alas, load.cgi was chmodded to 755, not 777 as he had thought. Right click. Properties/CHMOD. 777. Right click. Properties/CHMOD. Permissions: 755. "What the hell is going on here?"

He threw his hands into the air, then brought the fingers to ruffle his hair as he turned away from the computer for a breather. The rabbits were stretched along their bellies, the chin of one resting on the neck of the other. The plastic bag had nearly reached the edge of the hutch and seemed to be waiting for the perfect moment to jump across the ravine between it and the computer desk and attach itself to his face. The fear of asphyxiation by a sentient plastic bag lingering in his mind, he turned back to the ftp program.

He right clicked every file he'd just spent the past half hour chmodding, only to find that they'd reverted to their original 755 status. "Holy fuck, they're chmodding themselves!" He pushed himself away from the desk, avoiding the plastic gaze of his nemesis, and ran to the front door. Thrusting it open, he ran out and down the street and kept on going until the sun began to rise and the birds were singing and his feet began to hurt but he persevered.

Lucille emerged from the bedroom at seven o'clock and walked downstairs to find the door open and the computer humming. The rabbits were asleep under the table and the percolator had switched on, filling the house with the smell of coffee beans. "Harold?" she asked aloud of the emptiness, peering out the door into the cold grey morning.

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