Paramilitary abduction and stuff

In a suburban area, on the grass near a sidewalk, I had been tied up and left by a group of two or three women (don't remember why). A small band of paramilitary-looking folks walked up and escorted me to a house across the street.

The house was laid out so that the first floor foyer stepped out to an atrium of sorts, where the first floor had balconies that walked around and overlooked a room on the floor below. In the lower room, a group of six or seven women and men were sitting on couches, being interrogated by a few more military folks.

It looked like they had brought me there to help put the people being interrogated at ease. I'm not sure what about me, in particular, would do that. I was a black man, so that was apparently enough to make the one black woman down on the right relax and smile when our gaze met.

And then there was the blonde white woman, directly below me. She was lying on her back with her feet up, somehow reaching the edge of the balcony in front of me. We started playing footsie. Or toesie, really.

I then turned my attention to an inspector who was standing to my left (and noticed, at this point, that while my right hand was tied to my right side, my left arm was completely free). The inspector was reading his notes on a pad of paper. I glanced over his notes and saw that they were in Quikscript. When I asked him about it, though, he pointed out that it was all Chinese characters. But then he turned the page and everything on that page was in Quikscript.

He wrote a few things for my benefit to demonstrate how to write. One of the words he wrote was "stairway" or something like that, which somehow ended up being written almost in a circular fashion (I don't know if he was being fancy or if his version of Quikscript required it). At some point, the inspector was actually Brian C from high school.

Andrew K came by pushing a cart of books (apparently this first floor was sort of a library). He looked very cheerful and said hi, and we talked a little. All I can remember from our group conversation is something about how the incoming generation (of students?) was really gung-ho about the crazy stuff that we did (as a club, I guess), which we would have expected to be offputting to the uninitiated. In reference to this, the flat screen TV on the wall behind us was playing a South Park clip that had people talking about.. showers. ?

Loss of a ghost

I and a girl friend of mine had just walked into a small, messy library that was part of a larger building — a mansion, I think. From the door in front of us, opposite the way we had come in, the ghost of a girl in her twenties walked in and greeted us cheerfully. We'd met her before on several occasions and were friends with her. She came over and talked to us, catching up, and started reading a few magazines with us on the floor.

For some reason, though, my thought process had changed recently and I had reached an unsavory conclusion about the nature of ghosts. I wanted to, yet felt pretty scared to, test my conclusion. But I ended up going through with it...

I asked her to read some of the magazine's text aloud while I was looking away. It came out as gibberish. I asked her to recount a conversation we'd had a few minutes ago, or something we had talked about when we had met previously, but she couldn't think of anything.

I had realized that ghosts didn't have the full human version of sentience/consciousness, but rather they depended heavily on the input of the people they interacted with, and my tests seemed to confirm it.

I became very emotional. I lay down on the floor beside her and put my left arm around her and hugged her as tight as I could. I loved her for all our past interactions, knew that she had been a pleasant influence in my life, and yet I had to cope now with the realization that she wasn't exactly a real person. I had to accept that, whoever I thought she was in real life, there was little to be shown for it in her current form. I didn't want to let go of the lie.

But someone decided to destroy her anyway. She suddenly had a chain attached to her and was being pulled past me and off to the right. I looked and saw a villainous woman there among the bookshelves who seized the ghost and took her out another doorway and around a corner. She stabbed the ghost with some kind of implement, and bright light leaked out from the stab wound until... you know, like, the ethereal plane burst out in a supernatural explosion, and the ghost was gone. As the breeze from the explosion blew past me, I screamed in despair.

Heart vs. Heart, and a "brisk" visit to the library

I was down in some utility area, in a longish cramped hallway, one whole side of which was little alcove after alcove. In the first alcove, I saw a technician hooking a guy up with a curious device. It was a thick cable with a connector at the end -- the connector was round, like a midi connector, but it was the size of one's fist and had maybe thirty prongs in it. The technician somehow plugged it straight into the guy's heart. The point was that the other end was connected to someone else's heart, and depending on who was more prepared, more focused, had more control over their body, their heart's beating would disrupt the other person's heart, causing them to die.

The original guy who was getting hooked up was apparently a master at this, and he went from alcove to alcove, hooking up and "winning" each round. I declined an opportunity to try it out. Anyway, dad and I needed to stop by the library on the way to work and return the third Twilight book, which I had read 3/4 of the way through but had lost the will to finish it.

We got to the library (very much like Potomac Branch), walked through the parking lot and went inside. Halfway to the circulation desk, I noticed (and so did some others, I'm guessing) that I wasn't wearing any clothes. I considered the situation. Obviously it hadn't bothered me up to that point, but I thought I might get kicked out of the library for violating their policies. However, nobody else complained, so I carried on, dropped off the book, and walked out.

Sophie B. Hawkins's woodland home

I visited Sophie B. Hawkins's woodland home with a couple other people. Her house was two stories, very open, seeming to be the hollowed-out upright trunk of a gigantic tree. Some music began playing, and for a second I thought it was her song "As I Lay Me Down", but it turned out to be her cover of "Oh What a Night" by The Four Seasons. It started out with her on vocals, and I started singing along immediately in my best falsetto. Her lyrics had changed the gender of the object ("you know I didn't even know his name"). However, when it got to "Oh I, I got a funny feeling", it sounded just like the Four Seasons version, and then it was clearly a male vocal when it got to "hypnotizing, mesmerizing me, she was everything I dreamed she'd be". So I guess this was a duet, or even a collaboration with the original band.

As the song was going, I was wandering the house. I noticed a piano right near the front door. Plenty of clutter on the first floor. Very woody. Open layout. Went upstairs, also pretty open. You could still look over and see downstairs from the edge near the stairs. I walked into a sizeable library/study with one very large polished wooden table in the middle and bookshelves all along the walls. Sophie and the other two had walked up another short flight of stairs (second floor was sort of split-level), but I could see them clearly, as the two rooms had only table-height walls on the sides that faced each other.

Then some song started playing which I assumed to be a Smashing Pumpkins song, judging from the style of the intro, but I was unable to confirm it because I woke up.

Wrongly accused, but hey, she gets a sitcom out of the deal

A junior deputy or some such thinks he has found the culprit in a recent crime, a woman (who happens to be cute, in a wholesome sort of way) with brown hair in her twenties. She is found guilty and put in jail. However, soon after, someone else is also found guilty of the same instance of the same crime. The deputy then goes about trying to prove the original girl's innocence, but her fingerprints all over the original crime scene (dusty shelves at a library) are enough to keep her in jail. So, the deputy's mission (along with his hilarious, believable backing cast) throughout the rest of the sitcom is to keep his convict entertained and make sure she enjoys her stay at the jail. Comedy gold, I bet. I'm sure they fall in love, too, because it's TV.

"Gooo for it, Nabeeel..."

We were standing out in the open, and in front of us, across a very wide expanse, was a granite cliff which created very high fidelity echoes. Something in my mind tells me it was Massachusetts. We didn't go over to the cliff, though :(

-

Mom had some new bike for her library, and she let me ride it while she went off somewhere else. I biked by Andrew K and Nabeel and some random girls, who looked like similar stock to Nabeel. Andy said something like "I think Nabeel would be more comfortable..." and walked off; while biking by, I said "Gooo for it, Nabeeel..."

Puffy finger, magnesium pills

Greg got his old finger back from the library... apparently his pointer had been cut off to the first joint, but he had since regrown it (it was still a little swollen).. And I had skin cancer near my belly button so I had to go in soon to get a bunch of skin cut out... And I was going to be taking pills of magnesium (?) for a couple days to keep the pain away.... I guess my subconcious isn't trying to be scientific. Yuck.