protocol 7

A Dream

I don’t remember everything, but here is what I do remember:

I dreamed that I tried to kill somebody, or something. Stabbing. In the head and between the shoulder blades. I think I got stabbed in the head too. But then I realised that my reason for killing would only make everything worse so I nursed whatever it was I had been killing back to health and took all the flack for my stupid murderous idea in the first place.

Morph to what I suppose is a totally separate dream (I don’t remember the continuity if there is any) and people are mind-melding all over the place. It’s like it’s required of society to function. Like to use the ATM or something - random strangers will be standing in line, and once you are done with the machine you have to mind meld with them briefly. I really wish I remember the details of this more. Some mind-melding then took you to like, an 8 bit cyberspace type area where everyone was represented in ascii with a few polymorphus blobs thrown in. I had just recently mind-melded with a stranger for some trivial task and was walking around town when this older man walks by me muttering excitedly about coughing and stronger encryption algorithms (some kind of cold was going around). And I was like, “how does coughing… oh, because of the randomness generated,” and kind of waved my arms around. And the man stopped to engage me in this line of thought, with diagrams on his clipboard and everything. The man was Chomsky, but it wasn’t really Chomsky because he had E.O. Wilson’s brain. E.O. Chomsky? Anyways, he had started getting all holistic on me talking about the yin and the yang he was so excited about when I was woken up by my phone, which is good because he was getting boring. Nica - I’ll give you a call when I’ve had some coffee.

There were also a large number of older cadillac’s dotting the landscape.

Good morning.