April 28th, 2004


Dream a little dream

Since edda was talking about her dreams... mine really annoy me, because I never have particularly satisfying dreams. They're always questing in some way, looking for something or running away for something. I can't just have interesting dreams the way I did when I was younger. And I'm pretty sure I know what they mean--usually, once I've figured out a dream, I don't dream about that thing anymore. In fact, I rarely dream the same thing twice (that I know of), so it's weird that I've been having sort of recurring dreams the last year or so. It's never the exact same setting, but the dreams are basically the same.

Usually I'm looking for something. The weird thing is that I'm usually looking for a place, not a thing--a room, "my room" in a giant mansion. But the rooms and hallways I'm wandering are always long and relatively narrow--they go on for miles and slope up and down, sometimes with short flights of stairs up and down and long landings, with dark red carpets and tons of antique furniture and knick-knacks. It's always very open--sort of the way a mall or a school is; you can see other rooms and hallways and things. Sometimes there are libraries, just random sections of bookshelves. There are a lot of lamps and crystal sitting on little mahogany tables by dark, polished chairs, just littered up and down these halls. Sometimes I pass people, and they're usually all right--sort of helpful, or sort of unpleasant, but no more so than your usual passersby--but mostly it's just me going around corners or straight forward. Sometimes I trace my steps back to these libraries, but not often. There's never an end in sight. Sometimes there are variations--I've had dreams where I was in an airport that went on and on like that, and everything was a deep coral color, wall-to-wall coral, and I was trying to get away from someone... someone I wanted to find me. I was afraid he would and afraid he wouldn't. I don't know, dude.

A big element of the "searching" dream is that I find some secret passageway--I'm usually trying to escape from something, I don't know what. Sometimes I'm younger--maybe 12--and I go through our attic (which was just a narrow room with shelves on the upper floor) in the old house and slide open one of the doors to the shelving and crawl around the boxes into the eaves of the house where the insulation is. So far, this is all realistic. And then... it's like there's this passage to a completely different house. Usually the attic is dark and then the passage is white, or there's more than one passage, and I emerge into the Extremely Long and Expensively Furnished House (see previous paragraph). And the inside of this house goes on for miles--I can look out windows, but I have no idea how this house exists in space or time, because somehow it's all inside this two-story brick suburban house. But once I've gotten through, they can't come after me, whoever "they" are. I hear noises, and I'm afraid they're coming, but they're so far behind that I just keep going. And I have to keep going--I have to put distance between me and "them." I've had all sorts of variations of this dream--sometimes it's a giant mansion and I keep going downstairs, deeper and deeper into rooms that are lighter and lighter, and sometimes I just keep walking forward through these giant, open-air halls and stairs.

Other times I'm in the real house I currently live in, and I'm trying to lock one of the room doors but I can't--I keep turning the locking mechanism but when I test it, the door just opens. I keep trying to lock it and testing it and someone is coming but I can't. make. the door. lock. (You may be interested to know that the lock on my bedroom door is exactly like this--it doesn't work. But even when it did, for a few brief months, I still had my entire family beating down my door every five minutes to ask me stupid shit. In the end, it was just easier to leave it unlocked.) The door-locking dreams tend to be more like nightmares--there's usually someone or something sinister I'm actually trying to get away from, and I start to panic. And sometimes my running away blends into the Giant House dream--I keep going forward and forward and forward, trying to lock doors behind me but I can't, so I have to keep trudging on to put distance between me and whoever's chasing me.

The weird thing is, there's really not all that much urgency to the dreams. Like, mild panic, at worst. Even when I'm looking for "my room," I... sort of don't really want to find it. Like, I'm curious to see what it looks like, and I'd like to stake a claim to it, but I'm just sort of having a good time wandering around (when I'm not actively fleeing something). One time I dreamed that I emerged onto this rooftop that was a garden walled with grey stone, hidden by vines and tree foliage, and I could look out over the yard of this house and people were trying to find me but they couldn't. The garden was literally a secret. And then there were other people up there with me, like friends, who were also up there to get away from Them. It was nice, and all the green gleamed in the sun, and we were having a good time talking and milling around. I woke up just as They discovered the garden, and we had a little time to get away before they found us. But until they found us, it was nice.

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    Air, "Cherry Blossom Girl"
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deoridhe has announced the creation of Deoism. Really, I think establishing one's personal religion is a good idea--I'm not saying the purpose of Cleoism would be to worship myself, but rather to say, "Here's what I believe in, and I figured it out for myself rather than had it dictated to me."

Cleoism and Deoism overlap in a few significant ways. Such as:

1) Killing other people is usually a bad idea.
2) Taking other people's stuff isn't a good thing to do.
3) When you say you're telling the truth, you should tell the truth.

And so on.

However, I also have a feeling that Deoridhe is a gentler non-deity than I am. As yesterday has proven, thy Cleo can be an Angry Cleo. Therefore, I have seen fit to ennumerate the principles of Cleoism so that others may escape my holy wrath:

  • Thou shalt worship thine own God as that God commandeth, and put no other before thy God, because thy Cleo does not wish to be struck by lightning.

  • However, thou shalt worship thy Cleo with chocolate on the appropriate occasion.

  • Thou shalt be excellent to each other, or thy Cleo shall SMITE THEE.

  • When the door of thy Cleo's room is closed, thou shalt not open it without requesting permission, yea knockfully.

  • Nor shalt thou steal her magazines, particularly before thy Cleo has had a chance to read them.

  • Thou may'st friend or unfriend thy Cleo on Her Livejournal as thou wish'st; thy Cleo is not an anal freakshow.

  • Thou may'st freely express thy opinions, but must not be offended if thy Cleo freely expresseth her own.

  • Thou shalt also remember that the First Amendment prohibits the American government, and no other, from repressing your freedom of speech, and not the freedom of others to insult or disagree with you.

  • Thou shalt not find "feminist" to be a dirty word, or thy Cleo shall SMITE THEE, YEA VERILY.

  • Thou shalt not type like a speed-addled crack monkey, OMG H4LL3LUJ4H!!1!

  • Thou shalt spell, punctuate, and capitalize correctly, for thou art not ee cummings, nor art thou the Second Cummings.

  • If thou dost not know how to spell a word, thou shalt look it up. If thou dost not know the answer to a question, thou shalt at least Google it first. For thy Cleo saith: It's not that hard, people.

  • Thou shalt not cap an insult with a smiley face, for it fooleth no one, Captain Passive-Aggressive.

  • If thou hast been mistaken, thou shalt say, "Oh, that was dumb. Sorry about that, let me fix it" rather than defend thy idiocy to the death, or the White Sea shall rise and smother thee, and perhaps the littlest armadillo as well. Wilt not thou think of the littlest armadillo?

  • But yea! Do not weep, for the littlest armadillo has risen.

  • Thou shalt not troll, neither shalt thou flame. Thou shalt bear all wanking with good humor, because otherwise thou shalt be mocked twice as long. Really, 'tis in thine own best interest.

  • Thou shalt not mock thy Cleo for her atrocious taste in music, which verily she already knoweth is bad.

  • Thou shalt not hold up "high culture" to the exclusion and detriment of pop culture, for thy Shakespeare wert thine ancestors' pop culture. Untighten thy sphincter a bit, snob.

  • Thou dost NOT get a trophy just for showing up, kthnxbai. P.S.: Quit thy bitching.

  • Thou shalt not boast to thy Cleo that poetry.com hast "published" thy work and expect thy Cleo to fall down with admiration.

  • Thou shalt not steal someone else's work and then boast to thy Cleo that poetry.com hast published that, either.

  • Thy Cleo hast written the word, and the word is good. Okay, the word is not that good. Constructive criticism is welcome, yea verily.

  • Thou shalt procrastinate mightily, for thou art human, and thy best work emerges from the desperation of deadlines. Hosannah.

Glory Hallelujah, Praise the Deity of Thine Own Choice, World Without End Until Thy Cleo Think'st of Something Else, Amen.
  • Current Music
    Dannii Minogue, "I Begin to Wonder"
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msauvage purple

Uh oh

Okay... so, I'm actually working on my paper the day before it's due, but the journal database went down for some reason, and I can't access my sources. Okay. So let's kill a little time. So I go over to FW, and there's not one but two posts breaking major rules. They're mostly ass-covering rules: don't post minors' entries, don't post someone else's locked entries, don't troll other communities. We have 100 new members since Crystalwank, and now we have a troll post and a locked-entry post, a few people have gotten concerned, and... I don't know, strictly speaking, who's a mod or maintainer. I feel dumb. But it seems silly to run around wringing my hands and going, "Please, someone official post a few reminders!" when I can get off my own ass and do it myself. I'm fairly diplomatic, so, okay, I'll do it. Please delete this if it's out of line, etc. I didn't want to name names or anything, so I didn't link to the posts in question. So I post.

First response: "And you're quoting the rules back at us... why?"

And what's my main LJ entry today about? The Religion of the Goddess Cleo. *facepalm* God, I look like I'm on such a power trip, don't I? Everyone should have an -ism! Not just me and Deoridhe! Find the goddess within yourself! And all that shit!

ETA: Okay, I've gotten two positive responses. I feel a little better.

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    nervous nervous
black ribbon


Holy shit, I had no idea that you could sell/publish books through CafePress. Where have I been? I have a damn store for the Digest!

The attraction of CafePress in all areas of merchandising, of course, is that they never require funds up front to do anything. And obviously this isn't the same as getting a book published with a real house (see also: "Thou shalt not boast to thy Cleo that poetry.com hast 'published' thy work and expect thy Cleo to fall down with admiration"), but it would be a great way to get your work out to friends and friends-of-friends and so on. You've heard of starving writers selling self-published books out of the trunks of their cars? This is that. Only with no money up front. I like. I'm not in any position to throw together a pdf file right now or anything, but with some revision, I could see putting Black Ribbon out in single-chapter installments with the material from the website, or in a single-volume version... seriously, once this becomes more feasible, I will definitely run a few polls to gauge interest levels. Which, hell, might be nil. But the possibilities are exciting.

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    working working