dacrons_lair

( Don't read this. You're going to want to tell me shit that I don't want to hear. )

You've been warned.

-M

I don't post all that often.

As anyone knows, the reason I don't post is because my life is boring as shit, simply put.

When it isn't, however, I try to update. This weekend, for example: Halloween weekend. But first, let's begin with Thursday.

( Thursday! )

And now the rest of the weekend...

( Rest of the weekend! )

Today... I wake up, head to work. I come back. Ta-daa. Now you remember why I don't update regularly.

-M

Shoulda made one on me birthday, but meh. This'll have to do--I've been so scatterbrained as of late, it's driving me nutsoid.

Because I remember things like this, I am going to make a comprehensive list of who said "Happy Birthday"--leaving out direct relatives, because THEY all remember my birthday:

Cousin Lauren
Diana
Katya
Melissa L.
Cousin Sarah
Matthew P.
JonJon
Mike C.
Myles F.
Joey
Sarah Helen C.
Dee C. (<3)
Shay C.
Paigge G.
Carla T.
Susan H.
Suzanne B.
Katie (Lara) L.
Kayla F.
Alisa J.
Laura A.
Athena M.
Jennie G.
BESTIE (she knows who she is)
Emily B.
Rach C.
Michelle O.
Neal H.
Nestor
Tim M.
Faire Mom
Matana S.
Katy R.
Heather S.
Genyana
Hilary & Derek
Sonya J.
Pearl
Leilei
Kira M.
Anna W.
Joanne W.
Jackie H.
Godmother
Brooksie
Mrs. Larson
Ashley H.
Susan L.
Brittany J.
Alexa C.
Amy L.

52 folks. Counting family, that's 9 more... to a total of 61 people. Add in two more folks that sent private messages, that's 63--plus one additional on a few texts, and 6 extra who are unique in their own special way. Total number of folks: 70.

I am kinda mad about a few folks who forgot my birthday--reasons ranging from, "I wouldn't ever forget their birthday, so why did they forget mine?", to "if I can find enough time to celebrate their birthday, couldn't they at least spare a minute or two to send a quick message to me?", even to "I spent a lot of time and money on their birthday--where are they on mine?"

I'm just going to give generics to those who forgot--but to those who remembered, I am going to do what I can to get across the message that I care about them.

It's 2:14AM and I'm talking with Dee (South African fake lover of mine--long story, but an amusing one). I reeeeaaaaallllly oughta go to bed. So! First step will be to end this trainwreck here. Toodle-oo!

-M

I was never one for tension. Or suspense. True to myself, I've even always taken strides longer than the previous, because I cannot get to where I'm going fast enough. More tension, they say, builds to a better climactic whatever. Same with suspense--only it adds to whatever mood it was played. Bah. I'd get right up in there and resolve that shit (if it were a mystery or something). Go all-out with the fangs bared--no sense in lying in wait with a heart attack coming around the corner.

True, though, tension and suspense do have their moments. As tools, they can help, or hinder.

Bah. Oh, and btw? All that hype for "Where The Wild Things Are"? It got received with only 1 and 1/2 stars outta five. I've been saying for months, since the trailer first came out, that it was gonna be a pretty bad movie--to be seen if you like indie things or loved the original book. I loved the original book--but from what I see, it looks like it's not anything like the book at all. Of course, how do you fit a 3-minute story into an hour and forty minutes?

Currently, I've been sitting here for a majority of today. Methinks I should perhaps wind my way towards either the Great Mall, or downtown Mountain View--if only just to find an excuse to put on clothes, get away from the house, and immerse myself in society for a bit.

Yeah. I think I'll do that. I'll write more later; ciao.

-M

Give it about 6 days, and bam, 22.

I haven't updated in a while. As you know (and more n' likely don't care) nothing ever really happens in my life that's worth noting.

Only, this past weekend I went to the Renaissance Faire (took loads of pictures that are up on Facebook) and was reunited with old friends. Finally bought a cloak, a pair of stretchy trou, and a small bottle of "Apple Pie"-scented oil.

Aside from that... my week goes as follows:

Sunday evenings: I go do coffee with Ann.
Monday (from 8 to 9): Heroes @ Jesse's.
Tuesday: Video gaming/hanging out with Ben (John, to some).
Wednesday: Graphic Arts class.
Thursday: Volleyball.
Friday: empty.
Every other Saturday: Game night--otherwise, nothing planned.

My schedule is simple. I keep to it. Can anyone else boast the same? I think not.

It's all "I HAVE THE SAME SCHEDULE LIKE THAT UNLESS" bla bla bla some different shit happens bla bla bla. No. My schedule? Immutable for now. I work weekdays until 5. That's all anyone needs to know for any other time of anything. The fact that I have school, or that I watch Heroes, or that I chillax with a friend I haven't hung with in a while, are all just icing on the cake that is my nigh-immutable schedule. Everything changes, true. But does it have to be all shifty and nebulous so that even YOU can't remember what the fuck is up? Gah.

I'm tired. Volleyball took a bit outta me yesterday--I was REALLY having a good time of it. My serves have gotten OFF the HOOK lately. Been awesome.

The rest of today is just unwanted lounge time. Same goes for tomorrow, and Sunday evening, and Friday the 23rd. Get me to do something with you, plz. Otherwise I'm just gonna get all "nobody cares" and curl up in my room.

Naptime, I think. Ciao, folks.

Long time, no sing.

But this time around, I've a bit to report. Not that anybody reads this; I guess it's more of a release. Going back to "privacy", or "obsolescence", rather. Everyone's either on Twitter or Facebook, and if it's not communicated there, then it's sent via SMS texting or regular instant messaging. Or video chat, or phone call.

Nobody gots time for a little ol' LJ readin'. Of course, I'll see a few pop up, and those are usually from the more dedicated users of LJ; myself, I'm a dedicated reader, as nothing interesting happens in my day.

Except recently.

Recently, I've... well, I suppose I can be frank about it here, now. I'm sorta seeing someone, but not really. It's monogamous, but not really in the "girlfriend/boyfriend" sense. And even then, I'm not even really "seeing" them; it's a new level of relationship. There's acquaintance, there's friend, there's best friend, there's friend-with-benefits (booty call), and then there's girlfriend/boyfriend, fiance, wife/husband. Right now, we're somewhere between FWB and girlfriend/boyfriend--like I said, a whole new level. Shit's complicated, son. *nods*

I got a jaywalking ticket... and it's gonna cost me around $174 to deal with it, regardless of whether I post the bail or try to beat it. So what else is new? Cops are dicks, what can I say. They were ok before, but getting that was the last straw. Fucking jaywalking ticket. -.-

Started classes--Graphic Arts (101, basically) and volleyball (again). I've noticed a trend in that folks tend to ask me what my major is. I tell them the truth, and they're either really interested in me after that or they're just really good liars.

I'm kinda-sorta depressed--but that's only a recent development. My happiness and depression usually centers on how much worry I have about my finances--whether I have enough or not. And right now, I do not have enough: I need to see an optometrist, a podiatrist, I need to get a checkup, need to pay off the aforementioned ticket, and a new phone. Oh yeah, by the way, did I mention that my nearly 5-year-old phone is falling apart, and that Cingular is no longer doing the "buy 100 minutes get 10 free" deal for prepaids? I need a new phone plan, too.

And I don't have enough money to do all that AND move out, AND feed myself the entire time, AND hang out with friends (because hanging out with friends does use up the monies). I... want to sit in a corner and cry. I hate dealing with money. I hate it when I have to cut time with friends, I hate it when I can't "try something new" (when it comes to food), and I hate it when there are unanticipated free radicals--variables in this equation I don't know about and still have to spend money on.

On one hand, my life is great--there's someone I'm sorta seeing, I have all these friends, I'm going to college, and I have a job. I have a place to live, a computer to sit at and watch things on, and various other technology. I am able to read and write legibly. And thus far, I am disease-free.

On the other hand, I wish I were comatose in deep-space in a coffin-like shuttle, hurtling towards a wormhole on a volunteer-only mission from NASA to gather information upon awakening and sending it back to Earth. No joke there--I really do wish I was helping to explore the vastness that is the universe around us.

Instead, I'm stuck going blind, being single, having to cut down on seeing my friends, school tuition went up, my hours at work were cut, I'm moving next month (or November--either way, that's anxiety aplenty right there), my computer is in desperate need of an external hard drive and is getting slower and slower (but that just may only be Firefox), I need a car to get my driver's license (but I need my driver's license to get a car), I need to get a California ID... and my stomach keeps hurting.

I really really really don't like money. As much happiness as it could buy, it can't actually do that. It just makes me more stressed.

Then, I think: oh, hey, I don't ACTUALLY have to depend on money. I could just sell everything, tell everyone to "fuck off", and go work in Antarctica, or go live in Australia, or somewhere in Europe. I could MOVE; I could uproot and start someplace else where I can start all over again. That'd be nice. Hah... anyone I tell my plan about living in Antarctica to starts laughing at me and asks me why I'd want to go there. The second remark is usually something about the temperature, and how they could never stand to go down there.

Yep. Precisely why *I* want to, sir. Because nobody wants to. We all have this illusion that we're important, that somehow we are the most important thing in all of reality. We have shows and movies and cartoons and books and all other sorts of media saying and portraying JUST that. But, we don't know for sure. We're that kid in the corner of a blank room, talking to ourselves. We don't even know if there's anyone else in this room, since, y'know, we're facing a goddamn corner. Anyone left alone long enough will start to go crazy. Humanity has been left alone for... lessee... about a few million years. We're still practically monkeys.

Did you know, our early human ancestors worshiped plants, animals, and other natural occurrences? They thought it was magic, or sorcery, or angry/benevolent spirits. Toddlers, after they learn the emotion called "fear", have their own version of belief system. Their "blankie" might protect them from harm from the "monster" in the closet, or that Mommy would chase away all the bad guys and they'll be safe. They don't know that there is no monster in their closet, or that mommy isn't bulletproof. Do you see a correlation?

Now, hold on tight to your pants here folks, this 'un's gonna get tricky: Now. Think about how long the Earth has been around, versus how long the rest of the universe has been around. Then, think about how long the dinosaurs were around. Finally, I would like you to please take into consideration just how long WE, as intelligent self-conscious beings, have been around. Get all that? If you thought this over correctly, there should be a brick-shaped lump of poo somewhere outside the vicinity of your butthole.

If you thought "Man, he's not making any sense", then you can just stop reading right here. I'm going to advise you to go find some alcohol, take a few shots/swigs, then re-read all of this. If you don't drink alcohol, then... well, you can fuck off, because if this isn't making any sense to you and you don't drink, then go away. You're not needed here.

If you thought "Gee, toddler superstition and the entirety of humanity seem mighty similar", you're on the right track. I invite you to take it one step further: how does a child grow up, if there is no adult figure telling it what Is, what Isn't, what's Right, and what's Wrong? How to do This, how to do That, why you shouldn't do That Thing, but should be doing This instead?

How does it grow up, indeed.

That's all for now. Muninn out.

-M

I'm more than likely gonna go see 9. I mean, why not, right? I'm gonna see it after class, gonna try to catch the 9:50. Which means leaving sometime around 9, 9:30ish.

I also figured I'd post, because what the heck, why not? The next time this'll happen in in roughly 100 years, and I (probably) won't be alive to post anything. So! 09-09-09. We had another in our lifetime, you know; 01-01-01.

Here's to hoping I'm around for the next hundred chronologically-sequenced dates; *raises glass, takes a swig*.

Peace, love, and prosperity, y'all.

-M

A plane is involved. There's a mistake somewheres, and somehow I end up on Mars, trying to get to Paris. There's... a food court involved, a waiting line, a bunch of friendly people, some food... eventually, an EMP goes off--a nuclear device, but we're in a secure facility, so we only get hit with the pulse instead of the blast. There's panic. I remember at some point during this dream that I could have just waited, instead of heading to where I wanted to be; I'm flying to meet someone.

I forget precisely what the first dream was about; I just know I woke up sometime and closed my window, then went back to sleep. The second dream... again, the beginning is fuzzy, but I remember being with Crysta for the most part (on that note, if you're reading this C.K., I'll tell you precisely what went down in this part of the dream, don't worry, it's a very good part). Then she had to leave (she got called away), and I went downstairs to... a sort of field with a bunch of picnic tables and surrounded by forestry.

Some folks were talking about the Tudors, and the time period was apparently a mix between Edwardian and Renaissance, due to the clothing and what was being discussed. I was at a table of a bunch of people talking, and I forget what about, when I interrupted with the fact that there was spider webbing above the table on the other side.

They all remarked how they hated or were afraid of spiders, and I went to look at the web (because as much as I hate spiders, I don't hate the webs, as long as they're not in my way or in my house. So I'm looking at it, when I notice it forms a sort of arrow, pointing somewheres.

I decide to follow, and went through a sort of very narrow alleyway/crack between two buildings (the "two buildings" were only there to provide an alleyway; they faded about a meter or two out). I ended up looking around for what it might've been pointing at, and I see this sort of spiral rock with swords embedded in it. Please note that I just went from a forested background to a very wintery one, snow everywhere--it's not snowing, however. I figure I must be looking for the Legendary Sword, the sword that could cut through anything. While looking for it, I notice that there are children are looking for it too. It's ok, though, because what everyone seems to be digging through is a pile of wooden swords, in the middle of the spiral rock--nobody is touching the metal ones on the outside. I pick one up; it's a wooden falchion. I test it out, and split some nearby debris (a chair, I believe). It splits in half. I get a little excited, because hey, this could be it, right? I turn, and try to cut a rock with it. It just bounces off. I try again, it bounces off.

I look around, there is one little dedicated kid and some fancily-dressed teen. A prophecy hits me (more of a "requirement prophecy", like "only the true king can pull the sword from the stone" or "only one of the royal family can turn the ruby back"). It's "Only those with the red royal eyes is able to discern which is the True Sword." This fancily-dressed teen tosses aside a sword and says "this might be worth checking out"; before she turns away, I notice her eyes burning like two hot coals. She tosses on a cloak and leaves. I mentally thank her, take a look at my falchion (the blade of which was reversed, now) and toss it away, very quickly snatching up the tossed sword before the dedicated kid does (which he really seemed to be puzzled about). I say I'm going to go test it, and head off towards the ice canyon, in the distance.

Three quarters of the way there, I notice I'm being followed by some elf or another; basically, some guy who doesn't look to be "good". He tosses a fireball at me, I turn, and slice the motherfucker out of the air. He tosses another few, and a couple hatch into owls, which I handily slice in two. One owl escapes, but quickly disintegrates after the elf releases the spell. He comes up to me, and asks how I'll survive the canyon. I tell him how, the explanation of which involves an innocent comment about my sword. He says I'm gonna need more than that, and to report to "that corner" for training (he points to a secluded section of land with a couple rock walls).

I go, and my sword automatically appears on the wall. The elf explains that he teaches basic defense, and that his helpers (twin green elf women) are going to be helping me train as well. I ask whether they'll be taking me on all at once, or one at a time. One of the twins dances out with her sword, and the fighting begins. All I'm gonna say here is, to sum up, there's a lot of fighting, and eventually it become "fighting a crowd", and I make friends with a few people, one of which is some large dude (tall and fat) who is blonde, wears glasses, and wears a blue Hawaiian shirt with a white shirt on under it. He gets a parody sketch of himself from a friend of his after one battle (parody sketch==the kind of "funny drawings" people usually do at fairs or Great America or some such).

That's all. I wake up.

-M

Somewhere amidst the twists and curls, a movie takes place: that movie is my dream, which occurs sometime 'round the midnight hour (I suspect).

If there was a beginning, it's fuzzy. I recall being underground, and trying to fit in with a bunch of cannibals so I don't get killed; so I can be taken to the dungeons instead. I am chained with a line of them, after having eaten a bit of human, and we are taken down.

I forget how precisely we manage a breakout, but we do. There are ladders and twists and turns; I just follow the leader, because they know the way out (or seem to). After what seems like floors and floors, we make it to the top (btw, I manage to break my shackles with an axe found on the floor just before the main floor). We run, hooting and hollering, to the "Front Door". The main guards in the place are only looking at me--I tell them I've earned it because I saved the "warden" (I assumed that's who he was, I forget his proper name) from being eaten, and thus deserve a pardon. Which they give me by overlooking the fact that I'm escaping.

After we all make it out the front door, I find that most are in a long row boat (that's precisely what it is; it had 4 others on oars) with two more places left (one for oars and one for rudder). There's a guy next to me, and I urge him to go on ahead (I didn't want to row). I take a quick look around for any supplies, find none, then head off to the boat. I get in, they start rowing us over to a stream/river (It's too narrow for a river but too fast and deep for a stream). We plunge in, and start to head on down the river/stream, and then I spot a cooler. I race after it, grab it, then head back to the boat just as it's going over the edge of the mini-waterfall.

As we're falling, I take a quick peek: I grabbed a cooler full of AirHeads. Yeah. The taffy candy.

We land, and then we keep rowing...

The end of this is a mite fuzzy, if there is an ending to this. I just know waking up. That's all.

-M

Welcome. This here entry you won't particularly like, because I get angry and depressed.
( Try not to read, it'll only make you upset. )
( No, seriously, don't read this. )
Goodnight.

-M

Once again, the "Adventures of Marcus" amounts to naught more than "saw a movie", "played a video game", "slept", and "went online. As I've been doing, for the past week.

Weekend before this past weekend was WAY better. Saturday and Sunday was pretty much mostly spent with Ann; Saturday night was devoted to a fancy dinner and other things of fanciness (I believe Futurama was involved at some point). Sunday was spent helping move copious amounts of boxes and bags from an attic with an entry point about as wide diagonally as my hips. I could barely fit in there.

Ok, so, that was only the beginning of the hell that was staying in that attic. She'll probably read this and downplay it, or regard me as some kind of wuss or wot, but seriously? It really WAS fucking hot in there. I mean, I didn't... no, have NEVER sweat that kind of sweat, nor as MUCH sweat as I did in that hour I was up there. I wouldn't have been much surprised if I went all bloopily like Senator Kelly did at the end of his life (at least, in the movie, anyway; kudos if you knew what I meant without Googling the answer). And the dust... oh god, the dust. I got out, and I almost couldn't breathe normal air. I mean, I was breathing fine and wot in the attic-area, just, afterwards, I just couldn't breathe, and started choke/gasping. A fairly unpleasant experience, that attic. *shrug*

Anyway, that was it.

Monica is back, in 4 days. Well, technically, Friday, so, that's three days, since this day is almost up. Hm. Three WHOLE days, and two PARTS of a day, 'cause there's part of Friday in the morning she won't be there, and part of today has already gone by, so I can't say ALL of today as one day. It's only a part of a day left now, you see. So, three whole days and two parts of a day. Ta-daa!

And I know she doesn't read this... either that, or she won't have time to, one or the other. In any case, you know how normal (in society's eyes) boyfriends bring a bag of flowers, box of chocolates, and stuffed teddy bears? I'm not normal (in society's eyes). Instead, you have me bringing a stuffed Domo-kun, a box of Lucky Charms, and a bag of Taco Bell. Yeah. Ain't it special.

Ok, no, seriously, I'm done. Like tickles, there is only one way out, and it's either stopping, or death, which results in stopping, but it's less funny.

Toodles.

-M

There's a cardboard tube movement going on out there. I forget what, but contestants battle each other using cardboard tubes, and whoever's tube breaks first is the loser. That sounds like fun.

Today, it is Saturday. It is quiet, and not much is going on (as is usual when it's quiet). Thus far, I've gone online no less than four times, played Smash for an hour or two, played Super Mario Bros. for an hour or so, watched The Addams Family Values, and ate a bowl of cereal while reading the funnies.

Life sucks, yo.

I was tempted to go see a movie, but it's not quite worth it right now. I mean, the movies that are out right now... I'm not willing to walk aaaall the way to the theaters, watch the thing, then walk alll the way back. Not worth it. I just... don't feel like exercising. Life's become pretty dull, right now.

HOWEVER. This upcoming Thursday night/Friday morning is G.I. Joe night--the night where Marcus goes to see G.I. Joe, obviously, but will also be staying up overnight due to the want to see a particular someone as she arrives back from Korea. Plan is thus: I get tickets, see movie around midnight, or however latest I can get/want to get. I have to make sure to get coffee beforehand, it's gonna be a looong time before I go to bed again. Then, depending on what's next, I wander on home, which will undoubtedly be made more fun by going it alone. I get home, take a cold shower (better for staying awake, you see). Wait it out for the next four hours by playing some vidya games, or HOPEFULLY watching a movie or TV show. Then, around 6:20, I make my way to the station, hop it, and wind my way to the SF airport around 8, where I'll wait for an hour for her to arrive.

After that... I have no idea what's gonna happen. I might skip work, I might go into work that day. Remember, it IS a Friday still, and it's *way* before I would normally go in. As long as I arrive back before 12-1 in the afternoon, I'm still fine for some work. That seems to be the more likely chance, as the whole situation is gonna be awkward as FUCK... which gets that way when parents are involved. Yeah, I dunno how that's gonna slide, but y'all know me, I keep this CLASSY.

Maybe I go for a walk for the sheer hell of it. Maybe not. I'm still "eh" about it.

As for anything else... well, I'm getting tired of typing, my eyes are shutting, I might just take a nap. Toodles for now.

-M

So, to begin... well, not in the beginning, but close enough. I went camping with someone, who turned into Rhiannon eventually. I moved the campfire-to-be (the stones in the circle, the dry wood, etc) to a different area, closer to where we were going to be camping.

Then things got fuzzy, an' things got weird, and next thing I knew, I was in the "loft" section of a log cabin house (like, if it were two stories, and those stories were connected with a ladder, and the second story was really just a place to go to bed). Somehow, Rhiannon got pissed at me for not doing something that, logically, I shouldn't have had to do in the first place (something about getting or fixing something behind a TV for the kids we took in/were camping with--they were not our own, btw).

Things get hazy here, and all I remember is hearing a voice telling me to escape through a mini-window, and as I jumped through, the house collapsed behind me in a tidal wave. Apparently, Rhiannon was an angry water-witch. I started to run away from the scene, and after a bit, I heard a mental "wait!" I stopped, and looked around, and saw a kid (different from before, folks). He beckoned, I followed, and was lead right back to where it all started--but on sortuvan island-ish thing, like a sandbar, but with loads of trees and bushes. The kid stops, and points at a serene pool of water. Oh shit, I think. She could still scry me. I look up, sensing SOMEthing, and I see an old, haggardly-looking woman (your stereotypical contemporary "witch", who some of you would say looks like "the cat lady"). She grins, pulls a bottle out from under her shawl, and starts pouring it in the water. The water turns from blue, to green, to black, to brown, to blue again, and I get this mental note that the next time she tries to scry for me, something VERY terrible will happen to her.

Things get fuzzy in the memory department again, and next I know, I'm trying to follow the witch. It's a maze, I gather, but it looks as if someone made the maze out of the business district, with tight corners, and dead ends and wot. There is no ceiling; there are bridges that connect the confused buildings, or else there is just sky. I am trying to follow her...

...fuzziness is encountered in the memory bank, and I am standing with a couple of other guys, surrounded by a horde of people (male and female). It looks like they're trying to judge us, whether we came there for a reason or not. There is a railing, and me and one of the guys I came with (a huge muscular black dude) are on one side, and on the other is this scrawny-lookin' fellow who looks like he might rob you soon as talk to you (there is a bit of a drop, so it'd be a tad hard for this guy to get to us). They ask the muscular dude if they can have his extra soul, and at first the black guy tries to deny it, then with a surge of defiance, he says "FINE" and reaches into his chest, and pulls out the stretched image of some OTHER guy (it's wispy, and you can tell it's a soul). The crowd gasps, the guy who asked for the soul tells Black Dude that he can keep it, he just wanted to see it. I think, Well, shit, if all they wanted was to see a soul, then here... and I reach into myself, and pull out my own soul--but before I do, I give instructions to the arm to hold it out for a few seconds, then to put it back in. Simple instructions for a simple bodypart. And so, I do this, and the crowd once again gasps in amazement. I hear something about "he shouldn't have been able to have done that!"

And so, the focus turns to scrawny. He starts getting worried, and looking around, as the crowd grows closer and closer. He's backing up, until... he does this weird quarter-turning spinning and jumps, running along the wall, then grabbing the rail and hoisting himself over.

*edit*I had to get to work. Sorry for the interruption. Anyway...

After scrawny hoists himself and lands, they accept him. Apparently, he wasn't supposed to be able to do that--that's the impression I got from the crowd, anyway. We were "in".

Fuzziness... I am sliding down a hole, looks like it was made for dwarf miners, and I end up on a street. Fuzziness again, and it seems I'm riding some sort of bicycle, only it's not really a bike. I'm pedaling, pedaling real fast, and I continue until I fly off a dock. I land in water, unscathed by the bottom. I kind float there, and look towards the dock. There are a bunch of folks there (not the crowd or horde of people as before), and one of 'em woops. Y'know, like "WOOO!". Apparently, out of that entire pond/lake, I land in the one spot deep enough to not cause injury.

I'm back in the hole again, sliding, and this time, I find myself in some sort of shack. But it's a fancy shack (meaning, it looks like it was recently built, shoddily built, and with good wood, and bigger than it looks). I turn 'round a corner, and there are three rooms:
____________
[ 1 | 2 | 3 ]
[---------]

The broken line is a wall that we walk around to get to the other rooms, whereas the solid dividers are connected to the backwall. Anyway. The muscular dude (and the rest of the folks like him) are in room #1, I am in room #2, and scrawny is in room #3. In #2, there are fancy Victorian chairs and wot, like if the Slytherin common house wasn't decorated with a green and silver theme, and instead used original Victorian colors (stuff like this: http://www.germes-online.com/direct/dbimage/50269381/Victorian_Living_Room_Set.jpg and yes, Morpheus' chair was there too: http://www.starstore.com/acatalog/morpheus_2L.jpg ).

Anyway, it was explained why I was there, and the others. It's because each of these groups posses abilities: Group 1 possesses Body alteration abilities, Group 2 possesses Fate/Luck abilities, and Group 3 possesses a "Steal" or "Boost" ability. The third was explained that they could use their ability to enhance themselves or others, but not physically: like, stealing Luck away from someone else, or Charm/Charisma. It's a limited time, I think. Or not. It's kinda hazy.

I get a sense of "self-importance" from my group. And time stops, and my dream zooms out for a moment, and asks me to choose between having 1 or 2 as my partner (rather, the muscular dude or the scrawny guy). And I choose scrawny guy, thinking his ability to enhance my ability would have a pleasing effect in shitfucked situations. Time unfreezes, I zoom back in, and I am explained that as part of group #2, we are the most powerful. I guess it kinda makes sense, as to why 1 and 3 are on the outside, being the first line of defense should anyone try to break into the shack.

As it was, I got pieces here and there of fragments of memories from the group, about how they were able to twinge the threads of fate and luck in their favor, or against their opponents. I also get a memory of my test... which, I postulated, took place in my mind. How odd. So, I really wasn't riding a bike, but a psy-bike.

I also got a sense that I was able to materialize the psy-bike, in the same sense Psylocke is able to materialize her psi-knives. Mine is white, though, while hers is red. I can't materialize a car--lightweight vehicles only (scooter, bike--pretty much anything that isn't powered by a motor).

That's all, folks. That's all I can remember. And considering it's been two hours since I woke up, that ain't bad.

Peace out, folks.

-M

I remember being scared of dreaming something, 'cause around 3-4-ish in the morning I woke up and forced myself back to sleep while trying to not remember that dream. The following dream ended up with a certain ex-girlfriend who was pregnant, of whom I was currently dating (in the dream). She called me up and said it was time, so I jumped into a van, which almost looked like an SUV that my grandparents own, and sped off to none other than... Wal-Mart. I guess I had to get a couple things, 'cause next thing I know, I'm standing at the register. The cashier scans my items, and I pull out my card, and she (a dumpy middle-aged woman) yells at me for thinking to use my CARD in a CASH-ONLY lane. Silly me.

So, I looked at the price. It's $10.02. So, I look in my wallet, and pull out a wad of bills, the topmost of which was a $10. I'm apologizing profusely, and I hand her the ten. She says something akin to "Uh-uh, the Princess needs another coin.", whereupon I hand her a dollar. Transaction done, I rush outside and forget where I parked the car.

I walk around, trying to find the car in the dead of night, clicking the Lock/Unlock button on my keychain. I find SOMEBODY's car, and someone gets into it. I begin getting angry, when I realize that my key was just activating someone else's car. Confrontation: avoided. I eventually find my car, put the groceries in, and speed off down the highway...which was unusually dark and empty.

Oh yeah, dark. I forget to turn my headlights on, and I... guess I do so, because they go on, then flick to "low-light setting". How odd. But anyway, I keep going, worried the baby'll come out before I get there, and somehow I find the highway has ended, and has turned into some sort of trail for cars that crosses a river/stream. So, I forge across that, before giving up and saying "fuck this, I'mma turn around". And I do; I get back across the river, and am about to go the right way on the highway (presumably) when I wake up.

In today's episode, Marcus is chased by a highly intelligent T-Rex... but this one doesn't look like the one from Ice Age 3, but instead looks like the one from Jurassic Park. Apparently, I'm not much of a challenge, so he grabs me, and stomps through some brush into what seems like an ordinary store. But, as I look around, I figure it's a future-store: a future-GUN-store, to be exact. So, first off, the light are out. So, I wander on over, and pick something up, when I hear a noise.

I grab some sort of flashlight thing, and shine it in the direction of the noise. Turns out, it's a laser, and makes a hole in the wall. A guy (later known as alien futuristic dude #1) comes out of the dark on my right side, and says not to shine THAT one; his stance says what I'm holding is dangerous, as he's holding up his hands and looks VERY fucking scared of what I chose to hold. Another guy, looking like the guy on my right (later known as alien futuristic dude #2), edges out from whatever he was hiding behind. I ask them if they're from the future, and they say that they are, and that they got there because of the dinosaur too.

I go out the "front" of the store to what looks like a city block. People come creepin' out from the nooks and crannies, starin' at me like I'm some sort of super-survivor. I ask if they all were there because of the dinosaur too, and they reply that they were. Then, I guess I somehow rile them up, because the next thing I know is that I'm asking them to form up in four lines: Those who don't want to fight or contribute to the fighting, those who want to contribute but who don't want to fight, those who want to fight but have no powers, and those who want to fight AND have powers.

I go over to the line with powers, and interview the first two folks in line: a very muscular black dude and a woman who is indescribable (I forgot what she looks like). I ask the guy what his powers are, and he says "Super Strength". Well duh... ok, anyway, I ask the woman what her powers were, and she replies that she could fly. Awesome.

At this point, I look over at the other lines; the two futuristic alien-lookin' dudes are talking with the guys in the "want to fight but have no powers" line. I think they're explaining what each weapon they're handing out does.
*****
THIS, my friends, could also make for an excellent plot. Change the bad guy around, involve a sort of means of dimensional collection point, and voila. The bad guy's PURPOSE would be that he wants to die, but has yet to find the hero good enough do so, and is just roaming around the multiverse, looking for someone to best him, and finally destroy him. The hero gets involved after the bad guy says he's too weak, and then dumps him in his multiverse dimensional "trash can"--because he can't be bothered to run into the same person twice, as it's less effective than keeping all the runts/failures in one place.

I'll re-post to Facebook.

Anyway. What do you guys think?

-M

( There's only like... one more item added. )

The wishlist aside, as this is a JOURNAL, I am fine. Nothing's wrong, nothing's going on, it's all smooth sailing. Though I am a bit worried about moving out (I always breathe harder whenever large monetary transactions are involved). It's like blindfolding the new guy and making him "jump" off of a "ledge" that may or may not actually BE a ledge. He doesn't know what he's getting into until it happens, and when it's at that point, it's happened so fast that he can't really back out of it.

Suddenly, Antarctica is lookin' mighty fine, folks. Just thank Monica I'm still here.

Marcus-->out.

-M

Iron ball (completely iron) inside a shell of copper with a thick water coating, all encased in a clear plastic (or rubber?) ball, with a holes drilled at the "north pole" and the "south pole"--MAKE SURE THEY'RE ON THE EXACT OPPOSITE SIDE. Slight deviance could produce disastrous results. So, a cut-section of the entire sphere would be essentially an filled iron circle encircled by a water "moat", encircled by the copper, encircled by the plastic/rubber "crust". Get a giant battery, or just a powerful electric source. Make sure you know which end is positive and negative (doesn't really matter); and then somehow attach each end to their respective ends (through the holes you made in the plastic/rubber shell) to the copper sphere.

IMPORTANT NOTE: THIS SHOULD BE DONE IN A VACUUM. As Iron is heavier than Water, the Iron Ball will definitely sink if done anywhere there is already gravity.

I don't know what would happen at this point. But, I expect humming--what that noise is, would be the iron ball in the middle would be spinning. It should thus create a stronger gravitational pull. The amount of gravitational pull will be directly proportionate to how big it is and how much current you're supplying it.

Also note: this still doesn't help me figure out an alternative energy so--WE'LL USE SOLAR PANELING. Since this should be done in space, we'll have more access to the sun's power--and thus, more energy to be translated to electricity, to be used in creating gravity.

I would love it if any of you could poke holes in this.

Ok, so, working on roughly three hours of sleep due to talking to 2AM Special, with naught but a bagel, a Red Bull, and a Green Tea to accompany... I found myself puttering around work, and then puttering around the internet, where I found techno-ish songs. I listened to various songs of various genres for a while, then went to a flash file I have that's so very bouncy... and I can't help but bounce along to it. Anyway.

I was doing... something, and then it hit me. Multiple Universes. Something someone said a while back in a philosophical argument of belief was that they believed that everything that was ever done, is occurring, and will BE occurring, has already happened a thousand times over. And then another thought collided and mashed with that one: what if one of those universes collided or "windowed" into ours? Or better yet, if there was a team consisting of [main character], each a separate entity from their own dimension/parallel universe? Ooooh.... and it has all sorts of "perspective"-evoking thoughts. It's not quite futuristic, and it's not overly done--rather, it seems a mishmash of varying genres, as each... erm... person? Each version of the main character is from a different universe--with a COMPLETELY different perspective on life.

The whole "universe/dimension hopping" thing is a tad... "Time Bandit"-ish, but with less historical accuracy. Or maybe a bit "Dr. Who". I suppose, if you combined "Dr. Who" with "Time Bandits" and something where the main character encounters different versions of hisself/herself (that might embody different aspects of his/her person--that's usually how that goes), then you'd have yourself a movie.

Eh? Eh? Tell me what you think, guys.

So, today, I woke up laugh. Er... Friday morning, that is. A dream I had, it was set in some very urban neighborhood (like San Francisco meets New York)... but the most memorable part is the part that woke me up is what I'll be telling(I mean, I remember bits and pieces, but not enough to form a comprehensive story). It's in sort of a high-end store (or rather, in the front of it), and we (i.e. me, my "sister", some guy who was my "brother", a couple of other people, and our "dad" who was "performing" a "distraction" from something that was going on inside the store. But the thing was, he had to faint. And apparently, he did this by what seems to be forcing an aneurysm, or popping a blood vessel in the brain. Um.... he was "straining" to faint. And he strained a little, relaxed a little, and then the "brother" said something like "If it helps ya any, I started wearing sister's pants" which, from the idea I got from when he said it, sounded like they were magical disguise pants. The father replies that it kinda helps, as his face grows a bit redder from the strain.

Then he poots a little bit, and tries not to laugh. The "brother" says to "work through it, c'mon, breathe" and he poots a little more. I'm not laughing at any of this; apparently, we really need him to faint.

Then I poot. Loudly.

And I start laughing, and that is how I end up starting my day.
*~*~*
On a completely different subject, I am relentless when it comes to doing something I want to do. Complain about it along the meanwhile, I will, but daggummit, when I set about to doing something, I damn well finish it. If it's something I WANT to do, I'll complete it to the best of my abilities, come hell or high water (like practically jogging up the side of the Masada--given my health, I shouldn't have been able to keep up with the pre-fireman and the experienced hiker/our tourguide, but I fuckin' DID). If it's something I don't want to do, I just make sure I finish it--regardless of quality.

That being said... regardless of whatever shape I'm in, physically, nothing would stop me. Given, I figure my spirit being that of the character Searchlight from "Stone Fox" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stone_Fox). Y'know. The dog. She keeps running and running and then her heart bursts, 10 ft. from the finish line. Aaaaanyway... it's more, even when I know it's not good and that I should stop, as far as continuing to move goes, I will continue anyway if there is a purpose.

My purpose at the bottom of the Masada was twofold: keep up with the other two, and make it to the top with them without resting. And I did. I may have had to lie around for a bit, panting and drinking my water, but daggummit, I did it. When I was hiking without water at Castle Rock with Melody, I fuckin' kept going. I complained, sure, but the fact of the matter was that my legs still moved. At the Grand Canyon, when I got turned around, and then eventually set on the right path again... my legs just about kicked the bucket, and I had to stop ever few feet so that I wouldn't fall down... but I kept going (and made it to the top).

I am not in the best of shape. But. I am tenacious. I am a fighter, when I believe there is a cause worthy of putting myself behind it.

It'd be nice if I knew the purpose to my life. If I knew precisely when and how I'd die... that'd give me something to work towards. "This is when you'll be born, and this is when you'll die. You have all the time in between to choose the coloring of the string your life is gonna take." I'd be like "Cool" and start doing fun things, and planning-for-the-future things.

But as it is, nobody's gonna tell me. Nobody, and nothing, regardless of how much I'd hope and pray and wish for such a fact to be whispered into my ear. I have to live in fear that every day, if I were to start something important, would I live long enough to see it to completion? THAT... that is what I am afraid of. To start something, and then be the only person to care about it enough to continue it... only to have it stop when my life is no more, and for there to be no one to bring it to completion. Or, say, what if this importance was based solely on my being alive? What if I was en route someplace I wanted to experience, but never got to until then? If I died, I will never have experienced it. In some religions, I would come back as a ghost, with an unfulfilled obligation to myself.

Neh... my computer is melting my lap, it's 1:17AM, and I'm hot enough as it is. And bored. Sleep sounds so much better right now... I'm going. G'night, guys.

-M