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Yes. I am aware of Xanga’s plight.

I did what I could, and we’ll see what happens. In the mean time, I will carry on as I have. If at this time next month it looks like things will end badly, I will let you know where I have relocated myself. Please contact me if you are jumping ship sooner and would like to remain in touch if/when I set up elsewhere.

Anyway.

The dreamworld is doing unpleasant things to me again.
The entire time I was on vacation, I only recall dreaming on one of the nights, and as my dreams often are, it was a string of unrelated episodes, the third of which I got annoyed with and woke myself out of.

Part one involved my being at a Renaissance clothing store that was kind of like the Kmart of Renaissance clothes…except still owned and operated by a single person. This person and a competitor were stealing clothing and designs from each other, and had attempted to lasso me into their schemes against each other, but I wasn’t having any of that. I tried to buy some clothes honestly though, and got accused of stealing by a large Viking man with glasses. Bah.

Part two involved a high school friend of mine whom I make special efforts to forget.
She was pestering me on why we never talked anymore, and I tried very hard to explain that I was trying to get a degree (but I already have one?), and make something of myself, whereas she was a slut and had ten kids…how were we supposed to hang out with all of that nonsense going on? We didn’t resolve that issue, but I was glad when that sequence of my dream ended.

Part three was annoying…and fascinating to someone like me who is already very interested in point-of-view. My dreams have been including a lot of unusual POV shifts that I’ve never experienced before, and they’ve been much more lucid in the respect that I am at least aware that I’m dreaming, and can make small changes or wake myself up if I so choose. Still, it was an extremely short dream. One scene that I refused to even participate in, once I knew what was happening.

The way it began was with me being in two places at once.

On the one hand, my dream-mind–the one showing me the picture–was hovering near a railing on a balcony or similar platform. But I had no body. Instead, I was meant to observe myself as a character in the dream before assuming a POV from that body…and I saw a group of people run out of an office-looking glass building, and I saw my character…and decided I would refuse.

And I saw the character react to my decision because at the same time as I was hovering by that railing, I was also running out of the building. I already was him, whether I liked it or not. He did what I would have done. I could see him slowing to a walk halfway down some steps, withdrawing from the action of the dream while the others kept running. I saw him stop on the stairway landing, and get this look on his face that was so completely the look I get when I’m perplexed that I had no doubt that I was in both places at once, even if the image my dream was showing me was from that disembodied mind.
And then I saw the character look to where that disembodied mind hovered. And…the funny thing about being disembodied is that my dream doesn’t seem to have the sense to let it move instantaneously. The floating self does exactly that…float. And swoop and rush, which is a funny thing when you have no body to give you the sensation of movement…only the image telling you it must be happening.

But, he looked to where I was, and I saw that because he was me, he knew what I knew. At that moment, I was wooshed irresistibly down toward the character my dream intended me to be. And both the rushing mind and the character whose body my ability to act and express already inhabited refused to allow this dream to continue. And I woke up.

I’ve been thinking about it off and on…what my reason was for refusing to dream that dream. I don’t think I know.
I mean, it made perfect sense that I would dream I was this character…and my dreams make little enough sense…but I didn’t want to dream it.

Curious.

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