The sys admins for our simulation are not very good

I dreamed that new software was being loaded into my head and that I needed to call into work so that I could sleep while the software installed. There was a particular block of mathematics which I was to tell them that explained it all. I woke up with a fever and a headache as if my brain was overheating from running its cpu at redline due to a rushed install

Conversation to the vulnerable

Love is not a cure all. It can’t paper over pain. Or fix what is broken. It can’t be the only thing in a relationship. Those tender quiet moments you share together, where love is allowed to be. Those are glorious. They lift you up. Make you whole.

But afterwards, at the breakfast table. Their casual cruelty. The silence. The important things you seek to share pissed on. Treated as less, for the sake of their ego. For the sake of their wounds.
Those few moments of feeling love. They are not enough.

Love can break barriers. It can shatter shells. It can make someone better. But they must choose that. They must use love as a place of strength to be more. To embrace vulnerability because in love they are safe.

It’s hard when you know the love is real. But who your partner is, is no partner. They think only of their pain. Their hurts. Their fear. And they dress it up as wrongs you’ve done. They have to be right, even when they are wrong. They have to dominate even when they display every reason they cannot be trusted.

Those moments when they are sorry. When they promise to never do it again. When they are so sweet. Those are the lies. The only real apology is changed behavior. And hard as it is, especially when you are vulnerable. When you are isolated. When you have abandoned friends for this relationship. When you have cut off family. When you are financially dependent. Even then, you must know.

Love is not enough.

And you deserve a relationship that gives strength.
That builds upon itself. And brings joy just by being.
It’s possible. If you build it. But…

Not with them. If they choose their anger, their fear. If they choose their trauma. Their pain. You can only show them that they are safe to heal. You can’t force them. And you can’t be their punching bag. Physical or mental.

It’s the hardest thing in the world to walk away. To be afraid. Of the maybe one day. Of how they might react. Because that’s what they do. They build a cage of fear. They enforce that fear with sudden and irrational violence. Then they promise never again. It may even last for a while. But they are just biding their time.

You deserve better than a cage of fear. A life of violence. Of lies.

It’s hard. It’s scary. But eventually they will go too far. They will break you. Kill you. Destroy your sense of self. And you deserve better than that. Your life is worth more than that.

You can be strong enough to do this. You can lean on old friends. Maybe old family. They likely don’t know what is happening. That person they were in the beginning, that joy and kindness you felt. That’s all they know. Tell them. If they support you lean on them. If they express doubt, believe their lies. Walk away from those. Don’t try to convince them. They aren’t real friends. The same for family.

Rebuild your network. And reach out to trauma centers and hotlines. Even emergency rooms. Firefighters, but not cops. The high level of domestic violence in the cop world has normalized trauma. They cannot be helpful when they are tacit offenders themselves.

You are not alone. You can do this. You can be safe. You deserve more than this.

Dream within dream, awake whole

It is first through the dissolution of self which allows us to become truly individual. When we cease seeing through the singular lense of our ego, when those concepts dissolve, we are free to be our truest selves. Both connected to the all, the totality of being, and as a self defined beacon of being. Found at last, without selfish desire. We are allowed behind the scenes and setpieces of physical reality and instead can experience the endless wonder.

But the most important bit, is to come back. To once again inhabit the physical self, limited, but with a knowledge of the possible. It is in the knowledge of the possible that we can begin to see the impact the all.

In the infinite expanse, sentience may not be unique. But you, the individual you. The truly connected and, most importantly, awake dreamer are. You are unique in all the worlds. Each of us is unique in all of the worlds. Don’t see this as platitude. As opiate dreams for the positivity mindful mafia. Instead, hold a truth inside of you.

Carry it with you. Each day you are aware, is a day that you are perfection. The perfection of being singular. Of being all. Each day which is too hard. Too rough. When external life and the demands it places on us for mere existence. When these things drag you away, dream. And remember. You are more than your shell. Than this vehicle of meat and sinew. Revel in being.

You are alive!

When an author dreams

Out past the fringes on a world run in partnership with embodied ai there is a threat coming which has already fought 3 galaxy class military cruisers. After a battle in which 2 of the ai’s ran rather than risk destruction the third sent a tightbeam containing the footage of the battle and the last backup they had to the nearest outpost. Unfortunately, at light speeds the message took 12 years to arrive and while the message was intact, the backup was incomplete. It was was clear though that the enemy had no desire to negotiate or speak and instead desired only destruction.

They spun the backup up but were disappointed to find that most of its memories of the journey out to the rim had been lost. So they had no idea what vector the threat was coming from. Central had received word from the 2 retreating ships but their telemetry was incomplete. The leader of their expedition was lost.

The leaders backup was embodied in a small vessel capable of space flight and left to its own devices. No longer relevant.

Years pass as the Ai and humans prepare for a battle they are unsure of

The little Ai is seen as an annoyance, a demenstration of the fallibility of even beings such as they.

6 years later the little ai receives a narrow beam which nearly fries his tesseract brain with an overlad of information. The remaining telemetry and backup containing a couple of years of captivity. The data is seen as suspect but they are required by law to allow the ai his memories. Now the ai is distrusted because it’s possible the memories have been tampered with

But the ai knows that what’s coming was contained in one of the tower ships commissioned by humanity to explore out beyond the fringes. Ships which came back strange and requiring human/clone crew which engage in bizzare behaviour to further some unknown goal.

One such ship resides in the ai’s system and it flies out to it after seeking the assistance of a human. Since human thoughtforms are strange and since this human was willing to listen.

They arrive and find a massive interior dedicated to some kind of game in which the humans gather some kind of power to themselves and go on a journey. Gathering more and more power until they can win the ‘game’. Everything on the ship is a game and even death is impermanent. As a new clone will be grown and the consciousness embodied there. So many deaths has resulted in a kind of memory fatigue which means it’s inhabitamts no longer realize what they were trying to win

And the most frightening thing is, this ship type was what attacked the ai fringes those many years ago

Anxiety dreaming

I had an awful horrible dream. I was downtown for first Friday(an art and food thing) but I was also down there to retake a class in grade school. As myself not as a kid. And the teacher had reserved me a place right at the front. Then an adjacent classroom played a famous jazz song super loud and she started acting and singing like a jazz singer but completely out aync with the music and she had somehow transformed into a 1930s flapper. And the room transformed from a classroom to an upperclass parlor. Her manservant came in and offered her cakes and food and she declined all but a black and white. Then I was driving. I parked an headed to work but not before reminiscing with the crossing guard that this area used to be all construction and I remember drinking beer at lunch with my father on the job(never happened).

I was then in an elevator up to my futuristic bedroom and I met my older brother there and we talked about the woman I was seeing. After I talked to him for a bit I found myself on my phone. Scrolling through various messaging systems and I realize that this person I’m seeing has ghosted me. And I feel heartbroken and lost, like one does. I wander and find myself in a music shop where I meet a DJ who is demoing progressive drum and bass but who buries signal for some underground movement in it. I go to buy a copy but to do so you have to get it mailed an I don’t have any stamps. I pull up google maps on my phone and we have an argument about big data. Then I head off and I decide fuck it. I don’t owe this guy anything so I head back to my car with the intention of going home. I arrive at my car and find the windshield plastered by pseudo official tickets because there was a blue arrow painted on the ground to indicating handicapped parking. That’s not a clear symbol or a legal one, so I’m like fuck it. Then the security guard wanders by and she says “thought you could slink away, huh”

Then my alarm rings. And I’m left with this feeling of failure and sadness on waking.

Through a pane of sea glass

I had a dream that I had joined a friend of mine over at the apartment of a friend of theirs. His wife was out of town and he wanted to catch up with this friend. And, to be clear, the wife knew and the friend was a woman. Anyway, we were all playing video-games and then we went to sleep. I woke up around midnight to do some work and when I finished I passed saw his friend making something in the kitchen, toast maybe. In a dream jump cut, we are real close and then we are holding each other. Then kissing, and she’s better at it than me and a corner of my brain starts taking notes.

Then another jump cut and we are all dressed after carnally satisfying each other. She’s stoic. Had been from the beginning except when we touched, when we were together. And I’m leaving for work while my friend is just waking, none the wiser.

Tentatively, with full intention, I say “I’ll call you.”
Her faces lights up and says call me on Thursday(in the dream it’s Tuesday) and I leave humming, happy and remembering, knowing somehow that I am found and seen.

The dream changes then, and I am someone else.

When dreams teach(lucid dreams are weird)

At first the dream was like playing a video game. Like a really immersive rpg. I was rolling through completing objectives when I came to a fire level and I cast a ultra powerful blizzard spell which froze the entire world. This was all taken from bits and pieces of my last couple of days. For instance, the blizzard was something I saw on a TV show.

This is where it takes a turn, but still(I’m reading a detective story) consistent. I’m now a sheriff in a small town in the middle of a blizzard but I can still cast spells.

I think all of this is just framework until she steps into frame. I can’t describe her because she’s always been there, if that makes sense. We are working on a case and at some point we begin joking and we are forced to go on the run. But before that I mention burial rituals of South American indigenous people having similarities to what we were doing (burying her uncle so that he mummified, I don’t know…dreams) and she looks at me, like really looks and I see her and only her and I exist. We walk off the dig site and it is several months later and we are in a mall or gallery? There are kiosks but also it’s a college campus? Anyway, she pulls me into a kiss then asks who this woman down the way is who is looking at us in horror and tears.
I turn around and it’s an ex of mine. Actually someone I had almost married. (all of which knowledge seems to burst into my mind, having not known it before the moment I needed to)

I say that’s my ex, and I’m kinda pissed because the way she’s acting it’s like I betrayed her when she’s the one who left me. I say, She dumped me pretty quickly when she found out that I don’t want kids.

And I looks at this woman I’m now dating and I see the disappointment in her eyes. Then there is shooting and we are running again and I’m explaining while we run my reasons and she says, can we just put that discussion on pause until the crisis is over? We will figure it out together.
All the while I’m babbling that I might change my mind but I’ve never heard an argument which would counter my own beliefs and she looks at me with a wicked smile and says no worries, I already have kids and I was just worried you would reject me because of that, and I’m baffled because, the answer is of course that doesn’t bother me.

And it just clicked, like duh, this is what is needed. Someone willing to fight for us, who wants to explore and learn and change. Not someone who leaves at the first sign of trouble. Someone willing and wanting to have these discussions even though we are both vulnerable and maybe going to be hurt.

Then we hop in a gunship and flying out of there while under fire and I send someone whose been with us for awhile but in the background to man the .50 cal.

Then I wake up

Anniversaries, Breakups, and Dreams

Today is Morgan’s birthday. She would have been 44. I’m sure she would still be ravishing.

But that’s not what I have to say today. I’ve been off, living my life, like she would have insisted. And, in the course of doing so, I’ve dated. My last breakup was about 3 months ago. It was an outlier relationship in that it effected me physically as well as emotionally. Specifically, it eased my anxiety and allowed me to sleep at least 8 hours straight through each night. That itself changed me. My depression faded, as it’s exacerbated by sleep deprivation. My health got better and I was not sick for a single day. Which is not to say I’m generally ill but I often feel out of sorts at least once a month.
So it showed me that many of my problems were sleep linked.

I’ve never been a sleeper. Most nights getting between 4-6 hours and crashing once or twice a week. Much of that was occupationally created. Waking up to any odd sound was a bonus in what I had been doing. And not needing as much sleep was just as useful. But my mind and body have paid the toll for that.

So, here I am, 3 months on. Traditionally when I start being better after a breakup. There is always those lingering pieces of why’s and what’s. And after 3 months you start to know, emotionally, that you will never know. So you take from it what you can. And what I can is that sleep is important to me. Which I knew mentally, but having never experienced the effects of sustained nightly ‘enough sleep’ over more than a week; I had no frame of reference. 

The last 2 nights I’ve managed enough sleep. Enough that the dreams are back. Enough that I’m traveling the skein of lives. And seeing what some me’s are living in. Last night’s me was burying mobsters in his back yard. Because he was somehow smart enough to be in charge of a criminal syndicate and dumb enough to bury bodies in his back yard. He was also married to a nice and oblivious woman who adopted kittens and kept bees. Most of the dream was his buying digging supplies and lye from a orange craftsmen store. And playing with kittens.

Dreams are weird.

Slipping slowly….unable to wake…or find my way home

When I don’t have a romantic focus, I feel an emptiness. Like I’m going through the motions, like I’m not doing what I am. A cipher. And when days that are deep in remembrance approach and I am without focus, I fill. I fill with a vast sadness. An ocean of memories and lost hopes pours in. Until I become nothing but sadness. Until I lose my self, bit by bit, on a empty sea under a moonless sky. Until sleep and dreams lose their ability to be a refuge and I live in happy moments, deep in dream, which shatter as dust on waking. I seek almost any distraction. Trying to ward off a few minutes of thinking. Until, striped, without shield or succor, I am bare and sleep…traitorous…rapturous sleep…resets the stage and again and again, I lose her.