As it stands I currently have an awful, pounding, relentless headache from which I can find no respite.
3:02 a.m. MDT 7/3/09
Around me the skyscrapers of New York were burning like mile high smokestacks at the turn of the century fuelled by the bodies of children. Whether the cause was terrorism or self-inflicted was unknown but I kept telling myself it was another 9/11 that happened after the 5 o'clock whistle blew that day.
I had flown into Manhattan that day and arrived safely amidst the chaos. In fact I wasn't worried in the least and I'd like to chalk that up to being aware that I was in the middle of a dream. Searchlights zigzagged through the skies dragging along the underside of the thick smoke. At my hotel the concierge was very professional or was unworried about the destruction since it had become an everday event which most citizens took in stride.
While heading up a glass elevator I saw a building across the street begin to crumble which was the first time I began to fear for my life. "I'm in an elevator, there's no escape, I'm next and no one is going to find enough to mourn." Fortunately I made it to my room where I sat on the edge of the bed like it was the Chelsea Hotel without receiving a favor. The back of my head began pinging, urging me to do the right thing and begin contacting my loved ones and let them know I'm alright.
Only I kept on procrastinating because I thought it would be cruel to do such and an hour later end up crushed by concrete and punctured by rebar with my life pouring out into a gutter. It's always best to let the dust settle before announcing one's safety.
For the rest of the dream I found myself in the back of an empty truck bouncing along the potholes of some avenue. On my head and in my pockets were several useful gadgets which gave me a heads-up display of various things going on around me supposedly ensuring my continued well-being. The truck stopped and I hopped out the side door to find myself surrounded by police who sought to punish me for being unscathed during the calamity. In the distance I could hear Brian laughing about something.
3:26 a.m. MDT 7/3/09
Still I thought the most awesome thing to have in the world is a knife made out of meteoric iron with a handle made from a tree struck by lightning.
Next order of business is a first aid kit for my bag. Sadly my bag is going to be what I'm going to carry when I visit Lee which means I have to be very careful and make sure my knife isn't packed nor any other sharp stuff. Heck, my first aid kit may be a source of concern for the American Security Theater thugs since they might think that forceps are scissors therefore sharpened instruments which could be used in an assassination attempt setting the entire Republic aflame with Muslim hate.
Of course I had darned well better learn how to do first aid so it's actually useful rather than taking up space in my bag. Sad thing is that I get squicked out and panic at the thought of putting a tube in someone's throat so they can breathe.
A little later Spot went for a carry to the street to see the stoplights going off into the distance. There weren't any cars at all. We did hear a distant police siren which made me think, "Huh, it's like we're in Staten Island." After a wee bit we came back inside to a curious Lilah who was wondering where her great aunt and the houseape had gone off to in the wee small hours of the morning.
