Mmh. (Edited around noon)
Aug. 21st, 2004 07:44 amI remember nothing of the dream I had last night except the very ending, as I was dreamily waking up.
I had just hung up the phone and turned to see someone undefined looking at me in confusion. "Who were you talking to?"
"That was my friend Martin." I explained. "He's an obsessive compulsive who moved into space four years ago, and the alien collective assimilated him. Except they didn't get all of his personality out. So now he phones me every Thursday to explain to me how he rearranged the bio-mechanical organs in his section of the bug ship to within fifteen decimal places of their proper location for the week."
"Isn't it dangerous having an alien collective know exactly where you live?" they wondered back at me.
"It's okay." I soothed. "They're out by Cleveland. No one comes back from there."
...and I woke up.
I don't know either, folks.
Going to the video store tonight, hopefully. About time I tried to rent Kill Bill.
--Edit--
Of course, talking with
sebkha who is of course the proper person to talk to for oddness and facination, a few things were decided.
1. Although I do not actually know anyone named Martin, my subconscious clearly does. Subconscious minds are -far- more social than conscious minds. Mine anyway.
2. Martin was probably a marten. I find the mental image of a colony of spacegoing, hive-mind linked martens named Martin rather fun. Why they fly about in living bug ships is, perhaps, likely to become clear someday.
3. The process of converting a Martin into a collective member is either called One Hour Martenizing or the Martin Mind Meld. I can't decide.
4. Either Cleveland is in space, I am, or my dreams are VERY confused. Maybe Cleveland really is a pocket alternate dimension of its own, though. Must find out.
5. I need to sleep more.
I had just hung up the phone and turned to see someone undefined looking at me in confusion. "Who were you talking to?"
"That was my friend Martin." I explained. "He's an obsessive compulsive who moved into space four years ago, and the alien collective assimilated him. Except they didn't get all of his personality out. So now he phones me every Thursday to explain to me how he rearranged the bio-mechanical organs in his section of the bug ship to within fifteen decimal places of their proper location for the week."
"Isn't it dangerous having an alien collective know exactly where you live?" they wondered back at me.
"It's okay." I soothed. "They're out by Cleveland. No one comes back from there."
...and I woke up.
I don't know either, folks.
Going to the video store tonight, hopefully. About time I tried to rent Kill Bill.
--Edit--
Of course, talking with
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1. Although I do not actually know anyone named Martin, my subconscious clearly does. Subconscious minds are -far- more social than conscious minds. Mine anyway.
2. Martin was probably a marten. I find the mental image of a colony of spacegoing, hive-mind linked martens named Martin rather fun. Why they fly about in living bug ships is, perhaps, likely to become clear someday.
3. The process of converting a Martin into a collective member is either called One Hour Martenizing or the Martin Mind Meld. I can't decide.
4. Either Cleveland is in space, I am, or my dreams are VERY confused. Maybe Cleveland really is a pocket alternate dimension of its own, though. Must find out.
5. I need to sleep more.