Jessica and I purchased our tickets, and stepped into the time machine.

We had stepped back in time fifteen years, and we marveled at the old Rideau Street, the one we remembered. The year was 1995 again, and we walked hand-in-hand, looking for people we used to know, places we used to visit.

It was only as we tried to pay for our coffees with the new five and ten dollar bills that we realized we might have some problems.


Kalen (from The Lofters) and I laughed as we downed another shot, and snuck off to the washroom to do another line, another pill. The night degenerated, and after my senses started to fail me, all I was left with was the slowly fading awareness of strobes, sweat, and skin.

When the gray blanket started to lift, I found myself on a subway, screaming at some poor woman about the consciousness-expanding effects of GHB. It was amazing that I could actually watch myself acting this way, and it was a full minute before I regained control of myself, and managed to drag myself out of the train.

I cannot convey the terror of thinking that you are truly awake, and knowing that your mind has finally slipped.
Channeling Atlantis

  • After reading about the founding of Lemuria and Atlantis as explained by a being from the seventh dimension (channelled by a medium), I knew intuitively that my dreams would bring something interesting last night. Subjectively it felt as though I, myself, was channeling in the style of Edgar Cayce. At first I am disoriented, feeling as though my once-solid body has become a subtle cloud of gas. Blue sky-space stretches out in all directions. Slowly things come together until I am back on Earth, hundreds of thousands of years ago, and a member of a race of highly mental, highly spiritual people. Maybe I'm in Lemuria, maybe Atlantis. The next several hours are filled with visions of spiritual technology, mountains and buildings made of solid crystal. I remember next to nothing, it is all so overwhelming. Drifting awake this morning, I have numbers in my head: 8, 5, 6, 8, 5, 6... I a tripper or what?

The dream starts (of course I don't realise it's a dream at the time) with me walking down a road, with myself. For some reason I focus on how I look (hair color - brown, eye color - grey but slighty green as they are bloodshot, and so on) and the fact that I (the other me) am carrying a sword.

Then I stop and I'm standing along beside the road (I must be the other me now, because I'm holding his/my sword) all alone. I hear footsteps, and a man who looks like my erstwhile companion is approaching. He is dressed entirely in black, his hair is black, his eyes are as green as emeralds and he carries a sword made from silver.

For some reason I don't make the connection that he's me, but it becomes clear that he's not alone. By his side walks a beautiful, goth-esque woman. Well, not so much goth-esque in appearance as a poster girl for manic-depression - all pale skin and dark garb. She has stunning eyes to match my(?) own, and the most incredible blue-black hair. They are both rather cheerful as they reach me, and I (the dark me) hand my sword to me (the me me), before continuing down the road.

Next, another version of myself approaches (again I fail to recognise this). This time I am dressed entirely in yellow: yellow dress-shirt, yellow casual suit (jacket and trousers), yellow tie (not bow), yellow wing-tips, the works. My hair is also yellow (like a bad bleach job) and is thrown about like a mane (vaguely like a friend of mine in Germany, damnit but I miss him). My eyes are yellow(!) and for a moment I have the impression of cat-like eyes and fangs. He/I smiles (I had the impression that this doppelganger was a tad insane) and handed me his sword, the hilt was made of gold but the blade was clearly yellow plastic. He did not continue down the road, as my other double (triple?) had, but walked purposefully into what seemed to be a barren desert.

The rest of the dream is sketchy at best, and involves a Placebo concert on my miniscule doorstep, and the section next to my house being an ice-skating rink (although my manic-depressive, raven-haired, stunning dreamgirl was cheerfully making use of it).

I've never even seen an ice-skating rink.

There's a fair bit of meaning here to be sure, only some of which I've been able to figure out. Any insights would be welcome.
(The three swords may be due to the fact that earlier I'd been drinking and messing around with a Tarot pack.)

Driving to Durham, through fog and rain...

Sarah manages to drive the car off the side of a bridge; we fall about 10 feet to a sort of corduroy-road skirt. No damage. Try to follow the skirt to shore, but it collapses. Car floats, we paddle it to shore. Find a house, ask for phone to call AAA and school, let them know we'll be late. Bobby, a kid who lived up the street from me years ago, is there, and offers us supplies (Sobe, Silver Bullets, and a case each of Old Man Ale and Magic Hat No. 9, plus various junk foodstuffs and iced tea, all in bottles)... almost decide against taking beer (we are underage, and DUI = bad), but we figure it can stay in the trunk until school, where it goes in the fridge.

Soon enough, the car is ready to go... we ask directions to I-40 so we can get to durham. Folks tell us it's dangerous, we should find a motel, but we decide to press on.

We can't find I-40. We are in a Final Fantasy-type overhead view world, and the monsters are closing in. We slay them without remorse.

Finally find the interstate, get to durham, to school, check in, drink beers, sleep... all is well.

"School" in this case is the North Carolina School of Science and Mathematics - my old high school... i definitely remember that i fell asleep (in the dream) in the room i inhabited there for 2 years

It was so scary...

I had three nipples. One on my right breast and two on my left.
But in the dream, my boobs were perkier. That was nice.

I was putting on my bridesmaid's dress. It was lavendar and shapeless but not quite Little Bo Peep. I did not know the bride. I was randomly chosen because the bride had decided that 6 was an excellent number of bridesmaids. Her two sisters and three collge friends were the other bridesmaids. Her sisters were married. Their husbands were quite brawny.
I was the only non-blonde in the wedding party.

The wedding took place at the groom's home in New York City. The bride slid down a gigantic playground slide on the second floor of the house and into the living room. Vows were said and champagne was popped. It was very unemotional.

I realized that the bride's parents were Al and Tipper Gore. Tipper wrapped her arms around Bill Clinton's neck, threw her head back, and laughed heartily. She was very drunk. Hillary was nowhere to be seen. Tipper and Bill fell into a blue tiled fountain.

I woke up.

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