Disclaimer: I never dreamlog, but downvotes or not, this shit needs some manifestation.

I blame all of you for this.

All the Ralphs and Butterfinger McFlurrys and noders needing wisdoms bad have finally made me snap.

So last night, in the middle of an admittedly already convoluted dream involving an anonymous pretty girl who had died unexpectedly, and for some reason I was a pallbearer, but someone in the family was plotting against me - out of the blue, I decided to sit down for a little trip on the Internet.

And found my way onto Everything2.

And found the most obscure node to date.

It was written by a user I had never heard of before - his user name was Ozymandias. It was his only writeup. And yet he had 88 C!s for it. Even in my dream, I was flabbergasted, and investigated further.

It was a rambling stream of consciousness piece with no post-production. It was extremely long and had a few choice lines, to the point I just clicked the upvote about halfway through and scrolled to the bottom to cast my lot.

But then I noticed something.

The writeup had E2-centric phrases in it ("created by Ozymandias", "(place)", various reputation scores) and seemed to be, rather than one long writeup, a compendium of other writeups. Upon even further inspection, it appeared all of the writeups were short one-liners, sometimes factual, sometimes a weak punchline, never very weighty, given the context of their subjects, - an example: Elvis Presley (person): "Famous rock n roll singer. Wrote 'Jailhouse Rock' and 'Don't Be Cruel.' Died on the toilet." - and almost always with negative reputations.

Suddenly it occurred to me. I was looking at this user's Node Heaven. He had compiled it, formatted it, and placed it back out there into the nodegel. And then another thought occurred me - it wasn't his node heaven, it was some other user's. And they had created the perfectly fitting name to post this bit of existentialist screed. I got an even bigger laugh when I realized that the Elvis post (and others like it) also seemed to have a more symbolic touch to them in the light of this new discovery.

And then a final thought occurred to me, the one that had so intrigued me at first: why did this node have 88 C!s, but I had hardly heard of its existence?

It struck me like a lightning bolt. You could only see the node in your dreams. The collective unconscious drove all to it eventually. The node itself was the mighty work, crumbled now beneath the sands, yet it lived on. Some people upvoted it (or cooled it, assuming Level 4 powers), in sheer reverence to the emptiness of time and life. Others downvoted it, shrinking back from its sordid tale and fatalist leanings.

After that, I forget the rest of the dream. I don't suppose I'll forget this, though.

P.S.: There really is a user named Ozymandias. Some initiate from August, 2002, who stuck around all of 5 minutes. So you're too late, the writeup has already been nuked. But it's there, just you wait.

"Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

I don't remember why I was on the plane, and I don't remember what happened to the pilot. They came and got me and told me it was up to me. But by the time we reached the cockpit it was too late. We were wavering wildly up and down, just above the surface of the ocean. I grabbed the stick and hauled up. No use. Splashdown. But the spray cleared and still we sat there. I forgot planes can float. Of course they can.

It wasn't an ocean, really, it was a flooded city. The controls were sluggish but they still responded. I glided around for a while. Outside, through the clear double windows, dark blue below light blue. Endless. I looked behind me. The jumbo jet was at least twelve rows wide, packed. Most of the Sealab 2021 crew was there, but they were real people, not cartoons. They fed me snide non sequiturs and told me I'd need to find an island long enough to use as a runway. They were all counting on me.

A spaceship came down and tried to talk to us. It was made of blinking, circulating yellow lights, like every surface was a theater marquee, and what was inside was jet black. A message flashed across the front in a language of numbers I hadn't learned. So I couldn't convince the others - This is who we should follow. He wants to help us. This is the way out. The lights shifted and the shape contorted: hamburger, top, cube, gone. It never came close enough. I steered us aimlessly again.

I found a scaffolding tunnel too narrow to squeeze through, but I panicked and thought We don't need these stupid wings anyway. I had just gotten the nose inside when I saw three giant robots running at me. They were white with red and blue piping, like Skyfire, all of a different design, the good guys, probably. I backed up quick and the one in front made it to the open waters. He transformed into a tank and fired blazing disks at me. We took damage and got away, smoking.

Still no islands in sight large enough. But before long a yellow ship landed and pulled up right next to us. The pilot climbed out - tall, black, shades, massive afro and massive grin. He began to work on the engine at the back of the fuselage. The people cheered and went out on the burning wings to dance.

The stencil by the hatch read Jason Cool-Cool, but I knew who was really behind those initials. He was here to save us, just like before. My vision craned up out of my own head to show me the whole spectacle, happy ending and all.

Then slowly comes the light.
At first the light is blinding.
Then it becomes cool and soothing.
It illuminates the area completely.
Then dims to a quiet amber glow.
I can see people standing around me.
I cannot make out their faces.


It is the only word spoken to me by a husky male voice to my right. I turn to look at him. He stands there, silent and still, nods and smiles quietly. He does not move. I cannot see his face. I do not know who he is. I do not recognize his voice.

"What is this place?"

I have grown accustomed to asking this question and not receiving an answer, except for maybe a riddle. This time I am moderately surprised by the answer, because it seems to mean something to me within the dream. Later on, when I awaken, it will not seem so clear.

"This is the time of the convergence. It is near."

I begin to walk forward, I feel a rough dirt path covered with pine needles under my bare feet. I am surrounded by pine trees and there is a lake up ahead. The others around me are also walking slowly towards the lake.

We are intending to walk out into the lake. We are doing this for a purpose. It has something to do with this "convergence" but I am not quite sure what. I wake up before any of us reach the lake.

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