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wolven7Dreams were of being on some kind of assignment, at a hotel, or series of hoitels, perhaps some kind of convenstion. Up and down the elevators, something about the room service. I left there, went to drive back home, through the desert, along a church road. Stopped in the church to use the bath room, me and my partner, who was ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mech_angel, only not. We had a bet going about the bath room: could we get in and out, before the scene changed. The guy in there, when we got there, was disturbed by this, and I received a bulletin talking about the species war, and how it started where we were. I said that there was no one here, so how could that be, and when we came out
There were people everywhere, on the floor. They were in chairs, on benches, pews, floors, windowsills, leaning against walls, wherever they could be, and the church had partially phased with the GSU Village. It was like a combination floor meeting, revival, and town hall gathering. My partner looks at me and says "See?" They were talking about stocking up, about saving the planet, in new and different, sexy ways, taking a cue from Bruce Sterling, in making environmentalism into a consumeristic elitist culture. Then everyone will want it. Problem being that this would lead to human solidarity, but when aliens showed up, we would try to kill them, destroy them as "outsiders;" not part of the cliqué. The meeting ended, and a Sergant or Major, with another rank that belonged exclusively to the Marines came over to me and asked to see me in his office.
He questioned me about the things I had on my preson; whether I had any weapons, explosive devices, knives, blades, or something about a device that, when spun, opened blades and dismembered victims. At this I paused and said "Uhhhmmm...." To which he responded "It's oil-powered." I sighed in relief and said, "No." At that point, he openeed a file in front of him and read from it, regarding my actions and records of service in the Marines, in the past, citing brashness, inciting riots, insubordination, and general hate-filled behaviour. He asked for an explanation, so I told him that I had joined when it was 17 or 18; just out of highschool, somehting to prove to the world, at large. The lie sunk in, and locked into place. A one-year space between my high school graduation and my starting college opened up and was filled by the Marines. He continued to talk to me about the mission, at hand, and about the seriousness of it. I made notes, as to how we could prevent the species war, and slipped them into my file. In the future
I was back at the hotel, again, but it was like "Titan A.E.," with the space station, and the strange metal panels and hulks. Five days in the future, my director was talking to me about the mission, while at the moment, the grandchild of the Sergant or Major, now in a civilian intl operation, with no idea of my mission, was talking to me about whether I wanted to go, and how I would need great flight skills to do it. At that point Tim Allen walked by in a giant space suit, by way of illustration. From the conversation I was having five days in the future, I knew that I needed to let Tim Allen's character have the flight position, and I just go along for the ride, even though I was qualified to steer the damned thing myself. So I let him have it, and I crack some joke, to show that I'd matured from my old days in the Marines. He smiled perfunctorily and walked away. I continued to sit in the commisary, watching Tim Allen's character, whose suit was now orange , to show that he was flight commander, and picking at my fries. When the call came over the speaker, I stacked all the burger parts together, rearranged and stole some extra/different bacon, dumped my food in a to-go basket, and booked it out the door, to the launch bay...
That's about all I remember of dreams.
This morning, when I woke up, and started reading my "friends page," like I do, I notice three posts in a row, by different people, all talking about life-changes. Either decisions they had made, or courses of action they had taken, or situations of stagnation that they had noticed. I'm glad of this, and I hope it's a trend that continues, because it means they're not just complacent about life, and I dig that. I like taking an active role in what you're living.
Now I'm hungry, so I'm going to make myself a bacon egg and cheese English muffin sandwich. Ta.
mech_angel, only not. We had a bet going about the bath room: could we get in and out, before the scene changed. The guy in there, when we got there, was disturbed by this, and I received a bulletin talking about the species war, and how it started where we were. I said that there was no one here, so how could that be, and when we came outThere were people everywhere, on the floor. They were in chairs, on benches, pews, floors, windowsills, leaning against walls, wherever they could be, and the church had partially phased with the GSU Village. It was like a combination floor meeting, revival, and town hall gathering. My partner looks at me and says "See?" They were talking about stocking up, about saving the planet, in new and different, sexy ways, taking a cue from Bruce Sterling, in making environmentalism into a consumeristic elitist culture. Then everyone will want it. Problem being that this would lead to human solidarity, but when aliens showed up, we would try to kill them, destroy them as "outsiders;" not part of the cliqué. The meeting ended, and a Sergant or Major, with another rank that belonged exclusively to the Marines came over to me and asked to see me in his office.
He questioned me about the things I had on my preson; whether I had any weapons, explosive devices, knives, blades, or something about a device that, when spun, opened blades and dismembered victims. At this I paused and said "Uhhhmmm...." To which he responded "It's oil-powered." I sighed in relief and said, "No." At that point, he openeed a file in front of him and read from it, regarding my actions and records of service in the Marines, in the past, citing brashness, inciting riots, insubordination, and general hate-filled behaviour. He asked for an explanation, so I told him that I had joined when it was 17 or 18; just out of highschool, somehting to prove to the world, at large. The lie sunk in, and locked into place. A one-year space between my high school graduation and my starting college opened up and was filled by the Marines. He continued to talk to me about the mission, at hand, and about the seriousness of it. I made notes, as to how we could prevent the species war, and slipped them into my file. In the future
I was back at the hotel, again, but it was like "Titan A.E.," with the space station, and the strange metal panels and hulks. Five days in the future, my director was talking to me about the mission, while at the moment, the grandchild of the Sergant or Major, now in a civilian intl operation, with no idea of my mission, was talking to me about whether I wanted to go, and how I would need great flight skills to do it. At that point Tim Allen walked by in a giant space suit, by way of illustration. From the conversation I was having five days in the future, I knew that I needed to let Tim Allen's character have the flight position, and I just go along for the ride, even though I was qualified to steer the damned thing myself. So I let him have it, and I crack some joke, to show that I'd matured from my old days in the Marines. He smiled perfunctorily and walked away. I continued to sit in the commisary, watching Tim Allen's character, whose suit was now orange , to show that he was flight commander, and picking at my fries. When the call came over the speaker, I stacked all the burger parts together, rearranged and stole some extra/different bacon, dumped my food in a to-go basket, and booked it out the door, to the launch bay...
That's about all I remember of dreams.
This morning, when I woke up, and started reading my "friends page," like I do, I notice three posts in a row, by different people, all talking about life-changes. Either decisions they had made, or courses of action they had taken, or situations of stagnation that they had noticed. I'm glad of this, and I hope it's a trend that continues, because it means they're not just complacent about life, and I dig that. I like taking an active role in what you're living.
Now I'm hungry, so I'm going to make myself a bacon egg and cheese English muffin sandwich. Ta.
