Monday, February 13, 2006, 09:51 AM - Odd Dreams
Ya know... I just don't have *ordinary* dreams. But I think that's just fine when the dreams aren't nightmares.
Last night, I dreamed that Thistle and I were on this huge colonization starship. The great thing is that it didn't look like any ship I've seen on TV on Sci-Fi. It had a lot of windows, and had really low-key, seemingly sourceless lightning and carpeting the color of port wine. All of the furniture was made from inorganic materials: glass, metal, plastic, etc. No wood or leather could be seen. It was all charmingly ultra-modern.
Anyway, this ship possessed a propulsion system that allowed it to somehow "sidestep" normal space. It never went faster than light, but instead sort of popped from one location to the other.
Well... The drive system must have been experimental, since the ship was in significantly worse condition *after* the jump. In fact, all of the propulsion was failing, as was internal power. Fortunately, we had made it to the destination world, since I could see it from one of the huge windows. The bad news is that we were caught in its gravity well.
It was an interesting looking world. It seemed bigger than Earth, and the land/water distribution was closer to 40/60. Many areas looked like high, mountainous deserts. The lands near the equator were green, flat, and reasonably habitable.
It took a *long* time to crash, and it was spectacular. I guess the ship must have been made of some nearly indestructable alloy, since the ship skidded along the ground for miles before it finally came to a stop. The crash ripped off the two engine pods, so this world was definitely where we were going to be.
We left the ship, and the first thing we noticed was that this planet had been occupied before! Everything was totally overgrown, indicating that habitation had ceased 5-10 years previously. From the abandoned gadgets we found (a lawn mower and an edge trimmer), it looked like 1940's era technology. All the houses were covered with vines and grass had reclaimed most of the streets.
The question I had was this: where had the former occupants gone? Did they abandon the planet, or were they all dead? If they left, then how and why did they leave? If they died, what had killed them? I didn't think it was world war, since evening was too intact (other than being partially reclaimed by nature.)
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( 3.1 / 1318 )Sunday, February 12, 2006, 02:02 PM - Dissociation & Switching
Well... Two factors can make me start dissociating again, even though I'm integrated: Being off my meds too long, and being way too tired for too long. Last night, I got to experience both.
I accidently left my prescription bottle of Effexor (an anti-depressant) at work on Friday. But then I had already agreed to help a friend out with some side-work selling phones at a trade show. (I used to sell cellular phones full time, but now I'm in law enforcement as a Pretrial Release Investigator.)
So by 9:30pm last night, I was exceedingly tired and I had missed two doses of my meds. I felt the integration sort of "fall away" and realized that I was functioning just as Indigo, not as the integrated super-personality.
In one way, it's interesting to function as simply a powerful Alter. I became reaquainted with my own unique capililities and what I can do unaided. But then there was the chorus of voices that I was not used to hearing. Before I was integrated, it was normal for me to never have my mind all to myself. Last night I could hear Thistle humming a church hymn, Ashen complaining about liberal judges and worthless junkies, and I could *feel* Halo's sadness. I have almost no contact with Willow (and I never did), but I could feel his presence in my mind.
This is not a bad thing, per se.
But I/we function better as one, for it really seems like the psychic potential of the integrated super-personality is stronger than the colelction of pieces. (by psychic potential, I mean a concept akin to "willpower", not telepathy or ESP).
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( 3 / 1412 )Sunday, February 12, 2006, 01:52 PM - nightmares
The nightmare I had last night was a real doozie. It didn't involve my dad, at least, so that was a plus. But the vision was pretty bad nonetheless.
In this dream, there was this underground complex where people whould be abducted to and tortured to death. It sometimes took the victims days to die at the hands of their tormentors. The victims were all hooked up to wires and sensors of some kind, which, in turn, were connected to a bank of computers. The torturers wore white smocks and hid their faces behind white cloth masks so that one could only see their eyes. The tormentors had dark eyes -- none of blue or green, but instead were all black or dark grey.
It seemed that the purpose of the so-called experiment was to somehow collect the energy of the psychic imprint generated when someone dies badly. This energy was stored, augmented, and focused into some kind of weapon.
Beneath and to the right of the torture rooms, a single human subject was restrained to an observation table. He was also covered with sensor wires. It seemed that the purpose of the tormentor's experiment was to put the combined psychic imprint of dozens of bad deaths into the mind of this one single person -- just to see what would happen. They theorized that the influx of remembered pain and suffering would be a potent weapon that could drive the recipient into madness and suicide. The target, in this case, would fully experience what it was like to die in agony and fear -- over and over again, and concurrently.
Imagine what it must be like to feel another's death-pain. But also experience that kind of fear, betrayal, and hopelessness magnified a dozen times at once.
It was a pretty bad dream.
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( 3 / 1884 )Sunday, February 12, 2006, 01:34 PM - nightmares
One of the curses of my life is the fact that my dreams -- even to this day -- are ruled by darkness and horrors. Sometimes my father (the chief abuser in my life) is the main character in my nightmares, but other times the nightmares have other, dismal themes.
I don't think of my father too often during my waking hours, but at night it seems hard to escape him. It's like I'm being hauinted by an angry, hateful ghost -- but the abuser is still ALIVE! I just don't get it.
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( 3 / 1907 )Wednesday, December 31, 1969, 07:00 PM
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