quesarah: java baby (coffee)
Last night, I was aboard a deep-space exploration vessel. We were in the farthest reaches of the galaxy, running low on energy, far from base. A cold anxiety pervaded the crew as we mentally prepared ourselves for the possibility that we would die without ever seeing another human face again.

We tried a radical shift in tactics, giving ourselves one last chance at finding a place where we could replenish our resources. It worked! We found a system that seemed to have some natural resources we could use to re-stock our supplies. We formed a landing party and set down to explore. The planet was rocky and rough; there weren't any trees but there was abundant vegetation, most of it a thick fibrous ground cover. I remarked to a colleague that it looked like it could be used to make ropes or coarse fabric. He agreed, and we set out to explore more of the landscape.

We were becoming more excited as we explored more of the planet's surface. There was water, different types of vegetation, even small animals. We were cataloging items as we encountered them. As I walked back to the group from recording information about some of the native flora, I looked down. There at my feet, woven from the coarse fibers of the native plants, was a frayed section of rope...

"Oh my god. This planet is inhabited!"
quesarah: (Default)
A long time ago, I posted about a city that I often visit in my dreams -- visit, create, whatever. So much of my dreaming takes place there that it's barely worth mentioning most of the time. (Note that I provide that qualifier.)

So. The other night I was there in my dreams again, running errands, commuting to work, lots of the usual things I do over there. But I realized (remembered) that I have an apartment. It's in a really cool old mid-rise tower, lots of dark stone and reliefs. The interior is pretty groovy, albeit smallish. It's a few rooms, lots of exposed hardwood beams and flooring. It's near the funky arty bohemian part of town; I was meeting friends for coffee and dessert after work, and had to stop by my place to change clothes.

It was a really pleasant late afternoon/early evening, and there were loads of people out on the patios of all the cafes. It was great, there was a fantastic vitality in the air and a buzzing energy.

One thing that caught me by surprise was passing by one of the cafes and seeing K, a girl with whom I went to high school. She had a really sharp haircut and was chatting animatedly with several friends. I was pleasantly surprised, not the least because K died in 1990 or so. The thought registered, and then "well she looks really great" and then I was off to meet my mates.


Jan. 26th, 2005 12:38 pm
quesarah: (Default)
A couple days ago [livejournal.com profile] stevienicks321 posted about dream space, specifically about recognizing a place in her dream. It's not a matter of recognizing a location from waking life, but a matter of "visiting" a particular place often while dreaming. This was my reply to her, with a little more detail added:

I have places I always go when I dream. I don't know if it's all one big city or different places. But when I'm stressed, there's sort of a ghetto-inner city area I wander around. There's a university where I spend time going to lectures and such, a nice funky downtown with really cool cafes and an arty-bohemian flavor, and a seaport area that's really pretty and quaint with cobblestone streets and lots of ivy-- the streets are old and narrow, and you have to park your car and walk.

It's sea-side and sometimes I just drive along the coast.

What about you? Do you have regular haunts in your dreams, is every place a new one, or do you not remember?


quesarah: (Default)
Intercourse, the penguin

January 2013

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