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Q’s Log – Stardate 93730.26

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My father used to take me and the rest of the family camping when I was young.

To say I hated it was an understatement.

Last night I slept in the park among the trees for the first time in two weeks after sleeping in an apartment.

I am starting to understand why my father did what he did.

I am now questioning.

Was my father ever the alcoholic I thought him to be?

Or was my formative little human mind simply incapable of understanding alternate realities and how he viewed and processed the world?

I arrived at my ‘camp’ last night to find a homeless woman sleeping on the mattress I had set up in the small camp area.

It was ten at night when I arrived, and quite frankly I do not care if you’re male or female.

“I’ve been at this camp site for nearly two years, and I am gonna have to ask you to move.”

She was reluctant at first.

But being homeless, I have also gotten to the point of I just do not put up with or care about shit at times.

“I have been here three nights,” she responded in a deep French accent, “You can sleep next to me,” as she patted the mattress next to her.

“Consider yourself lucky then, I had an apartment someone gave me for a couple nights. So please move. I am setting my tent on top of the mattress”

I wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and I think she knew it.

As she gathered her stuff, she asked if she could sleep on the chairs I had gathered that were at the camp site.

Normally, I do NOT like someone sleeping in front of my tent, but she seemed harmless and I was kicking her off my mattress and she was being marginally cooperative.

“Sure, no problem,” I said as she lit up a cigarette.

I was annoyed by the cigarette. But wasn’t wanting to go there.

I fell asleep with my tent door closed and her on the chairs by about midnight, it took a bit to be able to relax out there.

But as I fell asleep I had an extremely vivid dream…


I was at my parent’s home, but it was in the desert on a bluff overlooking Phoenix. They had a driveway that led up to their place, which had a magnificent view of the desert, along with other houses on top of this bluff.

I had never seen anything like this in the real world.

In this world – France was threatening to attack the United States.

And no one in the United States could take it seriously.

In fact, it was widely considered a joke.

I was doing something in the front yard of my parent’s house, when my mom yelled from inside the house.

“There’s a landslide coming!,” she yelled.

We were on a bluff, surrounded by desert.

I was confused.

It was dusk outside about the time this happened, and something came out of the sky and hovered above the housing tract, which shone a green laser light directly at the corner of my right eye, and the eyes of everyone, and at each house.

It was apparently ‘mapping’ the region and it’s occupants.

My mom yelled again, this time she was clearly worried “Come look at the news, France is invading”

I ran inside as the green laser continued to track me, it actually took entering the house to get it to unlock off my right eye.

I looked at the television, and my mom wasn’t kidding, a horizontal landslide was occurring. Apparently, France had built a weapon which violently lifted the topsoil and shifted it in the direction of Phoenix, and we were directly in its path.

We weren’t safe inside the place. But on the bluff, we weren’t safe outside either.

I ran outside with my brother to get a look at it.

No sooner do I step outside then the laser locks on me again, when I see the ‘landslide’ hit the back end of the bluff, lifting the entire thing ten feet high off the ground. It was like more like an ocean wave had shattered the bluff and my parent’s house was tossed up in the air, with us as well.

We fell down the side of the bluff, and how it was possible to still be alive was a wonder, as a fragment of the house landed on top of us protecting us from the real landslide as the bluff came crumbling down on us as I must have lost consciousness in the dream.

The next ‘sequence’, I am with my brother who is on the back of a motorcycle, and he’s trying to talk me out of something.

“France has ruined our country, ” I said, “You are not going to talk me out of this.”

“They are all genetically enhanced. You have seen what they can do in Cirque Du Soleil. There’s no winning against them in a fight, ” he said.

Images of ‘augments’ in Star Trek flooded my mind in the dream.

“I’m not going to fight them. I’m taking over their systems, crashing them entirely” I said, “There will be no fighting whatsoever.”

“You will never get by…,”  he began saying.

I pulled the motorcycle over and said “Get off. “

He stepped off the bike.

I had somehow zoomed through a series of French checkpoints set up to prevent access to their facilities.

And apparently I was successful, as the next part of my dream was a broadcast to the world showing that France wasn’t behind the takeover of the United States, it had been a private corporation which had grown huge and was raping the world’s natural resources.

The dream ended with a broadcast of a hexagonal series of seven pipes used for oil the corporation had sliced up for who knows what reason and a conversation between executives that said “She still has plenty of juice in her. The Americans won’t ever miss their women.”

It was then I woke up.

I looked outside my tent, it was about 3 in the morning (I could tell by the position of the stars).

And the French homeless lady was gone.


Increasingly, as I shift over into the immortal mind of Q, my mind is becoming more and more receptive and aware of the world around me.

I hear thoughts on occasion. They’re typically random.

But sometimes I just want to bitch slap the person as I look around and figure out who was thinking it.

I refrain. That wouldn’t be fair to slap someone for what they thought, now would it?

And as for dreams.

This is why I do not want to stay in a shelter and why I loathe the welfare office.

All the alcohol and drugs and thoughts of ghetto people really interfere and cause problems with my own thinking.

Case in point:

Sure, the influence of the dream can be attributed to meeting a French woman.

But the darkness of it all.

They were my thoughts intermingling with hers.

And the dream of an alternate reality was the net result.


 

Question: Is it possible to walk on the surface of the sun?
Answer:    Of course it is, you just have to slow down time to an absolute crawl.


 

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