Cropped header image by Richard Webb under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic.
It was deep summer, August 1983. I was in my twenties then; the most important years of my life had gone by, but I wasn’t done just yet.
I didn’t know what I wanted back then. Without work, education or anyone to hold me back I was free to go wherever I wanted. I’d walk through the forest for miles, I’d follow a river until I got bored, I’d keep heading forward until it got dark. Continue reading
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I remember last night’s dream clearly as well – only the second in what feels like months.
It was similar to last night’s dreamlog – I started in a building with three people I used to be friends with. I was a little older than I was in The Old School Festival, but not much older – the two dreams could even be linked. I remember the building fairly well for what it was – it could have been a college or university building, and maybe at that point I was looking for a college or university to go to. The building was somewhat labyrinthine – enough for me to only remember the last part of the building, where one corridor split into three parallel corridors. We all played in the corridors for a while, running around and so on…not the best way to show we were higher education material, but we were having fun. Continue reading
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“You are aware I won’t be able to go with you when you go home, don’t you?”
I had no immediate answer, so I avoided his gaze and nodded.
It was early autumn; for some, the best time to be far from the city. It’s one thing to view the autumn leaves on the mountain trees from afar, but it’s quite another to be there. But right now, I wished I was on the other side. I could see it; when home is an unspecified light in the distance, it doesn’t seem so far any more. As a child, this mountain was always the first thing to catch my attention. I told my parents I wanted to climb it “tomorrow”, or “next week”. I couldn’t blame them for being amused, looking back. At least I finally did it, even if it wasn’t under the circumstances I wanted. But that’s enough for needlessly bleak-sounding introspection. Continue reading
Header image by Zeynel Cebeci under Creative Commons 4.0.
Last night’s dream started with me going to practice for some undefined sport. Sports, actually; we were going through several different sports. It might have started as just practice but by the end it was clear we were all just doing everything for fun. Maybe it was the last day. By the end, we were all tired, it had gotten dark to the point we were expecting the floodlights to come on at any moment, and it was threatening to rain.
After practice, I met up with two of my friends (not from real life, however) and with everybody else at practice, we all walked to the nearby train station as a group. It felt good to be winding down like this.
The underground train station had a fairly low ceiling, though it was interesting in that it had a seemingly redundant side passage near the stairs leading down. I talked with the two friends who had met me after training there, occasionally looking out and listening for the train. We spent a surprisingly long time there before the train arrived. Continue reading
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We met face-to-face for the first time that day. It was at a festival at something more of an expanse than a field, people too numerous to even begin to attempt to quantify; surely there were others I had known weaving through the crowds. They would all have been visible under the radiant sun. It was only from a past life I knew him, and he thought me to be long-gone, which was true – at least to him. I hadn’t seem him since either but I’d known him well while we still talked. He’d never known what I looked like, nor anything that could have identified me instantly. Continue reading
Header image by Dirk Beyer under Creative Commons 3.0.
Last night had an eventful dream. Life is busy right now, but I’ll do my best to remember. Perhaps it was a series of dream fragments again.
The first I remember, I was on a boat. A luxurious boat, I might add. It was almost like a house. It was definitely laid out like one, and my family were sitting in the equivalents of their rooms. Sitting around, cruising through the open sea on a luxury boat. It would have been better if the boat didn’t come under attack. Every so often, a three-dimensional target lock crosshair would appear in a random position on the boat. I saw nothing, but it was obvious that whatever was targeting us was hitting. The boat would shake and tilt on every detonation. I couldn’t see any physical damage either. Regardless, I simply accepted the boat was going to sink. Continue reading
City of lotus flowers, city of hills and sea. This city’s time was over long ago. The veil of twilight had fallen over this city and hadn’t been lifted for centuries, forcing its silence. Long ago, it was a capital port with people entering from the sea and leaving through the hills, flowing through as water now did. The city’s winding stone paths and circular buildings passed high over undulating hills and venturing deep into land, passing over bodies of water containing lotus flowers, even tunneling under the ground, faint lights of clear tunnels under these bodies of water visible (there were several tiers. Various tiers weaved through the subterranea, built from the ground up.) Land, air and sea; it once stood over all three as a capital city – it’s long since been reclaimed by land, air and sea. Continue reading