tanuki_green: (Default)
So, last night I dreamed I was doing some sort of investigation into the seedy activities of a corporation in a large building in a nondescript city. I was doing a physical investigation, so I put on a white ninja suit and sauntered into the building.

As long as I was wearing the suit and hood, no one could see me, even if I waved my arms in front of their faces.

I sneaked around the building, finding clues and hiding as necessary. At some point, building security sensed something was wrong and sent their own ninjas to find me, but there was something wrong with their ninja suits. They were clearly inferior as I could TOTALLY see them and dispatch them with little effort.

After a bit of me taking my mask off and unsuccessfully flirting with the ladies (what's up with that? get turned down even in my own dreams -- this is a recurring issue) I find the evidence trail I've been following leads to this elevator.

Once I step into the elevator it becomes more like a futuristic mining cart that whisks me away across the city through rails in the air. I'm thinking this must be an invisible cart as no one is even bothering to acknowledge that anything is out of the ordinary and this is DEFINITELY out of the ordinary.

I'm looking around at the city whooshing by below me when, very abruptly, a cat walks across my face, jolting me awake. Gonna need coffee today.

Crossposted from Dreamwidth (here) where there are comment count unavailable comments. | Comment (OpenID)
tanuki_green: (Default)
So, last night I dreamed I was doing some sort of investigation into the seedy activities of a corporation in a large building in a nondescript city. I was doing a physical investigation, so I put on a white ninja suit and sauntered into the building.

As long as I was wearing the suit and hood, no one could see me, even if I waved my arms in front of their faces.

I sneaked around the building, finding clues and hiding as necessary. At some point, building security sensed something was wrong and sent their own ninjas to find me, but there was something wrong with their ninja suits. They were clearly inferior as I could TOTALLY see them and dispatch them with little effort.

After a bit of me taking my mask off and unsuccessfully flirting with the ladies (what's up with that? get turned down even in my own dreams -- this is a recurring issue) I find the evidence trail I've been following leads to this elevator.

Once I step into the elevator it becomes more like a futuristic mining cart that whisks me away across the city through rails in the air. I'm thinking this must be an invisible cart as no one is even bothering to acknowledge that anything is out of the ordinary and this is DEFINITELY out of the ordinary.

I'm looking around at the city whooshing by below me when, very abruptly, a cat walks across my face, jolting me awake. Gonna need coffee today.
tanuki_green: (Run Away)
I just woke up from the most vivid, realistic dream I've had in a long time. WWII was happening only it was now (current day). We still had a lot of technology we have now, but some parts hadn't advanced yet, like aviation. I was a fighter pilot flying a P-38. We'd just launched this HUGE counter-offensive against Japan. I had hit the point of return on fuel and circled back to refuel and reload.

When I landed I was greeted by Seanan, who was a nurse. She checked me to make sure I was all in one piece. She held me tightly and kissed me hard. Then, without a word, she looked at me and she went to check on the other returning pilots. The look in her eyes had told me everything she didn't say. She didn't want me to go back because I was going to get hurt but she knew it was my duty so she wasn't going to say anything.

Since it was going to be a while before they could refuel, reload and inspect my plane, I thought I'd go and grab something to eat. Seemed since I was still in the middle of the mission, I needed an escort to leave. I was assigned Torrey. We drove around the city a bit looking for somewhere appropriate to eat. She was dressed like a mannequin with a bit of make-up to seal the effect. Every time we drove by a store with a mannequin with an unusual pose, she would strike that same pose briefly before moving on. She asked me how much I was getting paid for being a pilot. I said I wasn't sure, but it was my duty. She nodded knowingly.

On my way back to the base, I lost my ID somewhere. When I got back to the base, I was greeted by Sue and Mojo. She was in charge of allowing entry back into the base (which, of course you needed ID for). She was also puppy sitting for me and had my scruffy little boy there with her. I asked her what I needed to do to get replacement ID. She said she'd check on that for me and let me know.

There were other people around the gate in support of our efforts in the war and giving encouragement to the pilots and soldiers heading into the base. While I was waiting I mingled with the crowd. I showed off my new tattoo (my caffeine molecule). There were many more friends there, amongst them was Mia, Amy, Satyr, Sandi, Chris, Sunnie and Deb. Hugs and kisses and encouraging sentiments were all passed around.

Sue came back out and let me know I'd have my ID really soon. I hugged her and gave scritches to Mojo. I wondered where Maggie was and just about that time I was jolted awake by a cat jumping onto my butt.

"Oh, hi Maggie. I love you." And there were more scritches.
tanuki_green: (Default)
I know I've been dreaming recently, but those dreams usually fade shortly after waking up. This morning, my dream seems to have stuck with me, or at least part of it did.

I played guitar.

I remember the heft of the guitar as I picked it up off its stand - how it felt in my left hand. I remember how it looked, the royal blue Fender Stratocaster with the white faceplate in the dim light of the room I was in with just one light reflecting off the body. I remember the feel of the metal strings under my left hand. I don't remember plugging in to an amp, but I remember the first strum with the pick in my right hand. The sound was a beautiful sound - a power chord, rich with heavy metal distortion effects.

I began to pick wildly at the strings with my right hand while my left seemed to move independently of my control and the music was beautiful. It was as if all I had to do was hear the music in my head and the guitar would make it. And it was the music of me, of my soul. It was wild and loud. It was crunchy and grinding. It was melodic and powerful. It was everything I am or want to be.

It felt natural, like I'd been doing this all my life. It felt wonderful, filling me with a sense of warmth and peacefulness. It felt magical.

The last strum was the same power chord as the first I had played. I let it reverberate, standing frozen, feeling the vibrations ring through the air.

I put the Stratocaster back on the guitar stand, and sat down, contented.

Crossposted from Dreamwidth (here) where there are comment count unavailable comments. | Comment (OpenID)
tanuki_green: (tanuki - fall)
I know I've been dreaming recently, but those dreams usually fade shortly after waking up. This morning, my dream seems to have stuck with me, or at least part of it did.

I played guitar.

I remember the heft of the guitar as I picked it up off its stand - how it felt in my left hand. I remember how it looked, the royal blue Fender Stratocaster with the white faceplate in the dim light of the room I was in with just one light reflecting off the body. I remember the feel of the metal strings under my left hand. I don't remember plugging in to an amp, but I remember the first strum with the pick in my right hand. The sound was a beautiful sound - a power chord, rich with heavy metal distortion effects.

I began to pick wildly at the strings with my right hand while my left seemed to move independently of my control and the music was beautiful. It was as if all I had to do was hear the music in my head and the guitar would make it. And it was the music of me, of my soul. It was wild and loud. It was crunchy and grinding. It was melodic and powerful. It was everything I am or want to be.

It felt natural, like I'd been doing this all my life. It felt wonderful, filling me with a sense of warmth and peacefulness. It felt magical.

The last strum was the same power chord as the first I had played. I let it reverberate, standing frozen, feeling the vibrations ring through the air.

I put the Stratocaster back on the guitar stand, and sat down, contented.

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