Yet Another Convention

Header image by Rept0n1x under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported.

Last night’s dream was of a very common type, a convention/festival one, but I feel compelled to write this down anyway.

The first part wasn’t a convention; instead, I was showing someone around a lavish castle (somebody who would later go to the convention with me; I don’t remember which one), though there were open swimming pools of water dotting around the entrances. Both the entrances and the castle were massive; several times the size and height of a normal castle. Some entrances went into large halls with more swimming pools. I decided to swim in a few of them for a while. I haven’t been swimming for a very long time so it was fairly satisfying. Continue reading


Story A Day, Day 15 – Shift

A polite “hi” between neighbours on the third floor of the now residential Brynlith Castle was where the story really began.

“So uhm, it seems some of your mail was delivered to me again. Don’t know what’s up with the postmen round here.” He handed over letters addressed to a…Mr. John Alistair on the third floor of Brynlith Castle, sixth door.

“Ah, cheers, mate.” John said. “Who knows what I could have missed if not for these letters.”

“More bills and junk mail, probably.” The unfamiliar resident replied jokingly.

John looked through his letters, confirming that they were indeed mostly junk mail, with the exception of one bank statement. “I don’t see you round here much. D’you live on the higher floors, Mr…?” Continue reading

100th Post!!

Huzzah, 100th post! I got another short dreamlog, a Comic-Con report, notes on the blog and life, and an unfortunate thing to do with Nanowrimo. Maybe a few other things too. It’s still quite a post though. I believe I’ll start with the dreamlog.

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History Preserved

For what it’s worth, the groups I happen to be in when I’m in my dreams aren’t always people I know, even with my temporary memories. Sometimes I’m in a tour group, a party, a street; everything is always changing, even myself.

One such brief memory involves being taken on a tour of a place I no longer remember. Maybe it was the place I’ve built in my mind piece by piece for over a year and a half. I only saw it briefly; another world, a window into another era…the doorway didn’t do this place justice. My tour group only reached the boundary before we were redirected – I decided to stay. Continue reading