Safe, with weird dreams

Safely arrived in DC. One of these days, mech_angel and I are going to have to make it a point to come here and see the six of you who actually Live In This Area, as well as scrambling around to try to see family.

Anyway, I'm here and safe.

I dreamed about Azathoth, last night, incarnate as a woman with the ability to spread into the corners and angles of everything.

She and I had an argument, where she spread into the walls of the room, saying that our spells would allow us to experience more, but that she was truly omnipresent.

Something about her name being "Azathoth" or "Azathria," to designate her female incarnation. I explained to her that I carve out spaces, but she cracks vessels, as I kept my distance from her radioactive emissions. Slightly cowering, as she stands imperious, exploring rooms.

I blame mech_angel and greygirlbeast for that one. The latter, because I've been re-reading Daughter of Hounds, which you should purchase and read, if you have not yet done so.

Night before last, I dreamed about fighting Adell, from Dollhouse, with alchemy, which was the physical discipline used from antiquity to the modern era, as well as the psychological refinement tool, modified and developed by Carl Jung. She tried to trap me in the mind and soul of someone she had cobbled together, but I learned quickly to transmute the inside of their mind into a space that was my own, as well as their exterior to allow me an exit. I either transmuted them into me, or merely their exterior as a portal, I don't remember which.

Adell had a breakdown, because she couldn't figure out how I did it, couldn't understand what it meants that I could transmute the interiority of another person into my own. I explained to her, by trapping her in her own mind, and teaching her that all she had to do was turn herself into herself, to get out.

Gotta go get dressed. Supposed to go bike riding with my dad. Wish he would have mentioned this, proir to my arrival, as I could have then brought something to wear other than jeans.

Later.

A Softer World?

So, time really does Literally soften the edges, you know that? My elementary school playground was a thing of asphalt and metal.

I distinctly remember falling off of the (rusty) metal monkey bars, onto asphalt, on my face, when I was around 4.

It is now a grass covered play-topia of gentle curves, and a soccer field wither whence sat an open asphalt lot, not unlike those for parking.

I don't know how I feel about this.