meltdown at the power plant, or crazy dreams.

Well, that was a pretty crazy dream. Nuke power plant, some guy decided to do something stupid to vent the pressure on one of the reactors, and ended up causing something to happen. (He did something very wrong in the way he handled it. Also, this nuke plant wasn't very safe since they put reactor controls where any jerk could get to them.) I want to say it was a meltdown, but it was never quite clear. Of course, silly things happen, like the fact there's a guy whose job is to scrub down some part of the machinery and when things went nasty, he got really sick. (Don't ask me why, but the cleaner was named Frank Liu.)

Anyway, it was a crazy dream, and I know nuke plants don't work that way, but my head never makes much sense. That said, it still had a rather consistent plot for dreamland. I dunno why I dream coherent plots, but there it is.

Voice Post

[Edit: Hmm, it didn't pick up the East coast bit, in which I think I named Philly, among other places. I need to listen to it again to be sure. But it's not too bad. Anyway, yeah, I'm going to the east coast. There's a bit more to it than that, but short of it is that we're flying out Tuesday night from Sactown, arriving in Philly Wednesday morning, and driving for Allentown. We'll be in Allentown through Saturday night, going to NYC on Sunday, and DC on Monday, and then back to Philly on Tuesday to catch the flight home.]

Because you wanted to know...

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

dreams of a better reality

I remember flying.

It's a trick of the light, I suppose. A human being cannot free themselves from the tug of gravity by themselves, but nevertheless, my memory of flying is quite clear, as if one afternoon I walked out of my house and catapulted myself skyward -- as free as a bird, if you'll pardon the cliché. It had to have been a dream because human beings can't fly on their own -- they need technological assistance to hurl themselves into the wild blue yonder, but in my more introspective moments, I wonder if it could have possibly been true.

And remembering those moments of freedom causes a bit of melancholy in the soul. I flew. I know I flew. But I can't do it now, and that is always a weight on a soul. I don't remember dreaming it; I logically conclude that it must be a dream because the times when I am awake, I am stuck to the ground as a magnet sticks to iron.

But I want to believe that I have once stretched skyward and was free of the surly bonds of gravity, no matter how unreal that possibility. And of course, I want to do it again.

But I am not a bird nor am I a superhero, and my life is mere ordinary. Somewhere there is a door to a better reality, and once, I think, I have been there. Sadly, though, I am not there now.

So gentle readers, tell me of something you remember that cannot be true; of a moment when you were in that better reality and only have your memories to remind you.