Just woke from a dream where I had to travel to Japan.
Lots of being lost in airports, and one was back home, combination airport, noodle shop, and high school where the kids went.
Kept missing everyone. Erica and one of her friends knew the way to find where I’d come out.
Visual and auditory details were very high. Lots of escalators, stairs, people, etc.
In my dream, EB fell into an empty elevator shaft from two floors up because the stairs/elevator on that side of a concrete apt building had never been built.
By the time I got to her, she was already up and moving, but looked ROUGH. I could not convince her to go to the hospital. Kids who lived there could not even get me to look over the edge.
Dreamland had a big party and I don’t remember everything. Basically my grandparents Davis’ house, and the kitchen was a living room. All of the cabinets and where the stove were had a bunch more cabinets, and we had a lot of books and storage information.
I’d just met up with one of the two really tall guys that we all knew from the parallel universe. He had a Sony video recorder that used Disc 18 which was basically an 18 inch analog laser disk. It had a 10 inch LCD on the other side. It had a 1.8 inch camera lens on one of the edge near the corner.
It had hand straps on both sides so it was easy to hold while watching playback. The recording quality was excellent, but it was a little bit of an older unit. Everything had been replaced with digital and gotten more compact but the guy who had it really liked it and wasn’t ready to make the change.
Another one of the guys had a special type of mask that he was trying to use so that he would be allowed to formally date his girlfriend from the other universe, but he kept forgetting to wear it, and was probably going to get denied.
The mask had a patch of blue surgical mask fabric that covered almost the entire bridge of the nose as a sort of clamp to hold it in place. It had elastic straps down to a small patch that cover just the nostrils and then another elastic patch that maybe hung off the lip or something.
I’m having trouble remembering exactly but it seems like possibly everyone from both universes maybe had more than two nostrils. This is one of those things that you just kind of don’t remember the details because it is so mundane.
It was all very vivid and probably spawned by some memories from when I looked up my moms house on Google Maps the other day, as there were similar memory feels, and vivid connections between the houses.
I had a weird dream this morning where I was with an immortal guy, but he was so old, he forgot he was immortal. Business people burned down his big house, and he wandered out back in the moonlight to the water’s edge… Further down the shore were some stone ruins that were his house from when the peasants burned his home for him living too long… There was a short woman who helped guide us through time travel back to each stage in his life, until eventually learning about how he’d started as a wildling in these very woods. We were sitting at a table as she helped him remember. I told the 4th person there with us that I was hiding my feet in the leaves, because the moist clay was so cold.
Erica told me she was sorry she woke me up, but I advised I probably eould not have remembered or experienced the dream. I woke from the floor creaking under her feet, but I said “I woke from your feet creak.”
And for the last three hours, we have been talking about the majesty of Feet Creek, and how only the freshest feet will do. The freshest feet with bulbous heels are served, but the bony parts are gifted to the peasants to make feet stew. We are all grown from feet, and I was lucky to have been grown from the freshest feet. Feet are inexpensive here near Feet Creek, but people far away often struggle due to shipping delays. Instead of being moist, spongy, with soft cartillage, they are tough, dry and bony.
feet.
feet feet.
I was given an assignment, and had just traveled. I was in an auditorium at the travel center near the air terminals. Talking to people while waiting to be clearerd in, and I looked at my watch. I suddenly realized my mother was alive in this year. I showed my excitement, and gathered my things. I had just enought time to visit.
I made my way to the sky train that would lead me to the exit, but I was denied entrance. My wallet had a small bit of wear inside one flap, and these two said it was a fire hazard. I could not tell if they were toying with me to be rude, or because their friend worked at the wallet shop. They warned me to not try to sneak my wallet past them in my luggage. There would be penalties.
Angrily, I made my way out of line, and let GPS figure out where I was. Only two shops available. One closed 15 minutes ago. The other was open. It was a strange but well appointed place, yet they had no slippers. I had to walk around in my socks. They had only one wallet. I could poke my finger through it, and it had no RFID shielding. It was expensive, and would never pass scrutiny. They did have a large portfolio, but I had no way to carry that.
By the time I was done, I had no wallet, and no way out until those two changed shift unless I was willing to throw away my wallet in front of them. I was missing my chance. I marched up to them and sternly told them they were a disgrace, and dishonored their families.
And then I woke up.
We were at a Western hotel in Mumbai. The staff were white, and everything catered to the wealthy. Business was off, so we got to visit sometimes for lunch. Something happenned to the staff, and the east side dining hall got no service for hours after seating patrons.
The manager comped four tables, including ours, and gave us a his card. It said we could come in after 11:30pm and before 2:30 am to get leftovers and seconds (errored orders) buffet style for free. But, really, we could come in by 9:30pm, and until 5:30am. Lots of leftovers due to slow business.
This helped because we were always busy in the slums, and never knew when we’d get back. We were a mercenary tactical / investigation team, with not as much budget as we’d like, but enough to get what we needed. A bit of extra time in the fancy hotel was welcome.
We were at odds with the CIA, so we were on alert when we found the two familiar agents standing in our equipment room. They were fatigued, and just said, “load up.”
A Christian extremist group was hunting internationally, kidnapping members of our team, and forcing them to call in warnings. “Do not touch us! Do not touch us!”
We would find the team member, and we would have 10 minutes to query them, look through pockets, etc. Then they would get confused, seize, foam at the mouth, and die. If we touched them, it was contagious, and would get the next person. There would always be awriting, in Arabic, that said “do not touch us”.
This time, they needed our help. The extremists seemed nearly impossible to identify, but always left a subtle clue. We needed more than just that they hated Arabs, they considered themselves Christians, and that they were very well funded.
I had one of those dreams during waking that was both vivid and meaningful. It was in a village, with many people around. Standing inside, but near the lip of a basin. There were trees, complex terrain, but not a lot of big rocks. Everything was lush and green in the late afternoon, early evening. Before dusk, but no direct beams of light seen.
The basin wasn’t actually a basin. It was curved spacetime. Gravity did not “feel” strange, but it did “look” like we would walk down into the basin to go forward. Left and right seemed normal. Perhaps the Earth had become a Mobius Strip in spacetime, not a torus. We were looking across the gap from the inside.
There was no Sun in this universe. It just became brighter and darker over time. Shadows were always towards the center of the strip, but if you looked behind you, you would see the curce of the Earth going upwards.
We were looking up at the moon. The moon was physically smaller, but seemed much larger because of how close it was. It took up maybe 5-10 degrees of arc worth of the sky. The moon travelled perpetually in the center, because really, it stayed stationary. The Earth’s surface rotated continually, almost flowed, across the Mobius, dragging atmosphere with it.
Left to right, there were lots of cirrus clouds, with a thick line of them. You could see the clouds striking and billowing against the line of clouds. No dust was coming off of the moon, and it was very dense — more massive than IRL.
In the distance, instead of blackness, or stars, it was the darkest blue. You could see the lights of night-time, creating an outline of the entire continent of Africa, isolated, without Europe nearby. It was almost directly across it seemed, but it was also up vertically because of the curvature.
We understood, all of this in a way, because we had grown up with it. This was still an amazing sight, just like IRL how people get excited for a solar eclipse, or a blood moon, or a comet, or a meteor shower, or any other less common movements.
I had a dream that I was on a space station, and our old van was a shuttle. An escape pod failed as we were leaving the station, and my dream went into orbital mechanics ala Kerbal Space Program. On waking, I pondered orbital mechanics, and realized it’s just like people.
Community is like orbital space. Each person is a satellite. Your interests, drives, life and death all define your orbit. Your location is the barycenter of your orbit, the focus of your ellipse.
Along your path, you will pass near other satellites, people. If your orbits are not close, it may be a single encounter. Maybe your orbit lines up repeatedly. Maybe not. Communication tech is better mowadays, and you can talk to someone orbiting Jupiter with a little lag.
But, you only have so much fuel (drive) to change your orbit. And if you aim for someone not on on a very similar path, you almost certainly guarantee that your paths will diverge more widely.
Unless you grab on and become one peice in a new, combined orbit, a risky maneuver. Instead, it’s less disruptive to adjust your orbit on each pass. Move your center when you can, and look for other satellites near you.
Which satellites seem familiar. Is there a shared mission or purpose. Can you benefit? Are they from a friendly nation, or do you need to be on guard? If they are new and suddenly there, are they a risk for knocking you out of your planned orbit, or dragging you down the gravity well? If you join up, they be too big of a mass or too tightly coupled for you to change your orbit later? Or are they a whole new anchor in space to orbit freely, yet still taking you for a ride?
The best are when you orbit the others who orbit you, or you share closely overlapping orbits. If inclination matches, you meet more often than every orbit.
I have lots of acquaintances in unmatched orbits. waves
I have several friends in harmonic matched orbits. Hi Hi Hi Hi Good to see you again.
I have a few people that I try to keep my orbit matched with. I definitely have my own mass and velocity that makes this difficult sometimes, but I appreciate those on similar missions burning their limited fuel to help us stay in sync.
I had a dream that I was on a space station, and our old van was a shuttle. An escape pod failed as we were leaving the station, and my dream went into orbital mechanics ala Kerbal Space Program. On waking, I pondered orbital mechanics, and realized it’s just like people.
Community is like orbital space. Each person is a satellite. Your interests, drives, life and death all define your orbit. Your location is the barycenter of your orbit, the focus of your ellipse.
Along your path, you will pass near other satellites, people. If your orbits are not close, it may be a single encounter. Maybe your orbit lines up repeatedly. Maybe not. Communication tech is better mowadays, and you can talk to someone orbiting Jupiter with a little lag.
But, you only have so much fuel (drive) to change your orbit. And if you aim for someone not on on a very similar path, you almost certainly guarantee that your paths will diverge more widely.
Unless you grab on and become one peice in a new, combined orbit, a risky maneuver. Instead, it’s less disruptive to adjust your orbit on each pass. Move your center when you can, and look for other satellites near you.
Which satellites seem familiar. Is there a shared mission or purpose. Can you benefit? Are they from a friendly nation, or do you need to be on guard? If they are new and suddenly there, are they a risk for knocking you out of your planned orbit, or dragging you down the gravity well? If you join up, they be too big of a mass or too tightly coupled for you to change your orbit later? Or are they a whole new anchor in space to orbit freely, yet still taking you for a ride?
The best are when you orbit the others who orbit you, or you share closely overlapping orbits. If inclination matches, you meet more often than every orbit.
I have lots of acquaintances in unmatched orbits. waves
I have several friends in harmonic matched orbits. Hi Hi Hi Hi Good to see you again.
I have a few people that I try to keep my orbit matched with. I definitely have my own mass and velocity that makes this difficult sometimes, but I appreciate those on similar missions burning their limited fuel to help us stay in sync.
Lost most of the details, but we were at a party, restaurant was Josh Vernon’s, brass and marble. Well lit, open floor mingling, our company had the whole place. It was in a mall, but so was my company, a research firm.
My boss was not there, but his dogs were. They were getting sick, throwing up if they ate. We could not reach him on the phone, and no-one knew where he was.
I went to find him, but his office was torn apart. I found his research that indicated he had engineered them to starve to death. I could not believe he had not euthanized them.
I kept looking, and found him with the board if directors, and I laid into him, telling him he was horrible, etc etc. I knew I’d just resigned, so I left in a rush.
Somehow, between leaving, and getting out, I knew he was dead, andbthey thought I did it. My DNA was all over his office, and I took his jacket, because he was an ass, because it was cold, and because I could not find my jacket.
Ecxept, by the time I cleared out my locker, it was not cold out, and I was now wearing his jacket over mine. Two people asked me why I was wearing Hamish’s jacket, and I made up stories.
I just had to get out. I knew I was going to be investigated for his death now. I was sort of lost, but finally made it to a bar that was opening, and could pass from the “mall”, theough the bar, to the parking lot.
The lines were huge, so I just went for the compact car lot, because it openned first. I could not get to my car from there, but when I walked to the far edge of the lot, my mom, aunt, and sister saw me, and they drove over ti get me in their big SUV. They heard Mark Hamisch had died, and knew I would be upset.
