Home > Life or something like it > Entry 08/22/2005 08:21:30 PM – Mentat 185

Entry 08/22/2005 08:21:30 PM – Mentat 185

     My mind is full, and I have to admit that I’ve been avoiding my journal like the plague because I don’t want to face myself or my thoughts without some external filter first.  Take last night’s dream as an example of part of the reasons why I’ve been avoiding venturing into my own mind…  In last night’s dream I was some sort of Private Investigator; or Detective (can’t be sure which, as I was in plain clothes, undercover, and don’t remember having a badge anywhere on my person).  In the dream I was with several other people; some of which were clearly criminals — one of them particularly dangerous.  Things started getting ugly while we were in this house, and I remember that my pistol was hidden in the hardcover book that I had been carrying with me. 
     At one point I was aiming the book at the dangerous man secretly making sure that he didn’t know that it contained a pistol.  However, I was having problems with the pistol in the book because I couldn’t get my fingers properly on the trigger.  Not to mention there were a couple of times where I had some problem trying to get the pistol within the hardcover book to properly point in the dangerous man’s direction.  Then something happened.  I don’t remember what caused it, but things fell apart.  Gunshots started going, and I had to pull the pistol out of the book, trying desperately to dodge the dangerous man who had started firing at me.  I remember that one of his shots had grazed my leg, only creating a slight flesh-wound.  I was holding my gun level with his forehead, telling him that the next shot would kill him. 
     He did nothing other than smiled, and said, that it didn’t matter.  He had already put three shots through my head, and that the back of my head had been totally blown away.  He had mentioned that I was dead, and that I just didn’t realize it yet. 
     I remember falling to the ground and that when the back of my head hit the floor, that I in fact didn’t feel anything behind, and that the entire back of my head was blown away.  I remember saying something along the lines of, "Yes, the only thing left for me to do is, die." 
     I had woken up from that dream pretty shaken and had stayed up a couple of hours while I had tried to calm down from the feeling that I had no back of my head that I had gotten from that dream… 
     Of course, when I went back to sleep, I had gone back to the exact same spot in the dream that I had fallen and supposedly died.  However, instead of being dead, I was quite all right.  I picked up my pistol where I had dropped it in the dream, went into the other room where the man who had shot me was sitting at talking with someone else and banged his head on the desk and the pressed it between his knees.  I remember screaming into his ear something along the lines that there’s no way to kill someone that has complete regenerative capabilities. 
     While I had awakened from that dream a little more satisfied with the outcome,  I was still shaken from the first part of the dream when I had my brains shot out, and I don’t remember how it happened. 
     Unfortunately, one of the side effects of these dreams has to do with the fact they are typically the only dreams that I remember from the night.  Would be nice if I could have more pleasant dreams than these or the ones that I’m having with Will.  I think that I did actually have one of those last week — but it was so fleeting that I didn’t remember it longer than five minutes after waking up. 

     As for the rest of what’s going on in my mind…  I can’t write at all.  Here I am at home, and have all the quiet that I would want, and all the access to whatever soothing music there is in the house, or online — and yet — every time I launch Word to try to work on either the Symbiosis or Talos, I shut the program down and either go wandering online, or sitting here playing games.  Although I have to admit that I do know why I avoid both of them.  With Symbiosis it has to do with the fact that the science in the science fiction story is incredibly daunting, given all the things that I had thought about and brainstormed with Patrick at Concord.  In the end, with what of the story that I have here on the computer — I had made the decision that perhaps I should stick to fantasy, given that in fantasy I can at least take short-cuts without having to be so incredibly and scientifically complex that the story can roll on without explanation.
     As for Talos, I know that story is a five hundred pound gorilla — no matter how I write or re-write the thing.  There’s no getting around it, given the fact that I’m basing it on something worked out well over 24 years ago.  I think that perhaps I should just plod on through it and get it all into print before I totally lose my mind in trying to remember all of the details. 
     Of course, these are the easy things that are currently on my mind.  The more complex thing has to do with the interaction that had gone on yesterday with Howie.  There are certainly plenty of questions going on in my head, not to mention quite a few points that have caused me to contemplate what precisely is Howie’s purpose on the net.  But I think I’m going to save this for another day…  Currently I’m not in the mood to self-analyze everything that has been discussed between myself and Howie.  So I think I’ll cut out here for the time being. 
     Until the next time. 
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