The mind in sleep cycles

Tossed and turned until 3 am last night, and when I slept ... it wasn't restful.

For some reason, the world was dying. The oceans had all been frozen, the atmosphere, I think, was ripped away, and it was all my fault; and instead of working to solve the problem, people were tossing nukes at each other. I could see the flashes on the horizon, pillars of light that pinpointed the forming mushroom clouds, and every now and again, there'd be a dull *boom*.

It was a badly disjointed dream; the pieces didn't fit together, and even from within the dream-state it didn't make sense. Maybe my first hint should have been that I didn't have anyone around me telling me that I was the greatest thing since sliced bread and anyone who disagreed with me was a traitor.

I wonder if the President ever dreams about the end of the world. I wonder if he ever questions himself.

Lemming time?

Snurched from bonibaru. And yeah, it figures.


"You must remember this, a kiss is still a
kiss". Your romance is Casablanca. A
classic story of love in trying times, chock
full of both cynicism and hope. You obviously
believe in true love, but you're also
constantly aware of practicality and societal
expectations. That's not always fun, but at
least it's realistic. Try not to let the Nazis
get you down too much.


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Well, I suppose. To paraphrase Garak, I believe in true love, I just don't trust it...