I’ve recently started a project, using Ruby on Rails version 3.0.1, that has been teaching me a *lot*. One such lesson is some pretty quirky magic involving rails’s new Arel engine for querying the database. It’s best taught through an example modeling the exact problem I had – in a different problem space.
This morning, I dreamt that I had a lucid dream. This is one of the shortest dreams I have ever had – though I think there was a lot more before this part. I just can’t remember it all clearly, for once.
In this dream within a dream, I was participating in some kind of art contest. Each contestant was given a concept/theme which they had to make six pieces based around. These pieces would be situated on a black cube, one to a side, in chalk. And we only had five minutes to complete each piece. I forget what the theme was for the contest, but I was going with simple geometric shapes.
However, for some reason I couldn’t make any progress in my pieces, no matter how simple they were. And that’s when I realized: I wasn’t actually in the contest. I’d never made it there. When I’d gone to grab my art supplies, I’d grabbed a container with a toxic chemical in it.
I wasn’t actually in the contest, because this container had broken, and the chemical had knocked me out. While I was dreaming of losing this contest, in the real world I was convulsing and choking on my own vomit. I was completely aware of this in my dream, but couldn’t do anything about it.
And that’s when I woke up. And as I awoke, I heard a woman singing to me. I only caught a snippet of what she was singing to me, but it was a haunting melody, and moving lyrics: “I want to help you see how long you’ve been trapped inside of me.”
The first sensation he had upon waking was a cool breeze across his face. Where was he? How did he get here? How long had he been asleep?
This is my first foray into making my dreams public. How fitting that this should also be the first dream during my newest venture into biphasic sleep…
I have a history of recurring dreams. Some are pretty standard. Some are incredibly, heart-wrenchingly poignant. Fortunately, none of them are nightmares. But, this one is certainly one that leaves me out of sorts when I awake…
There is a nameless city which I have visited thousands of times in my dreams. This city is as compact as a Japanese metropolis, and as sprawling as Dallas/Fort-Worth. It has suburbs, and boroughs. Havens of prosperity, and dens of iniquity. And, it distorts time and space. You could walk the same street a hundred times in your lifetime, and it would never take you the same place twice. Read the rest of this entry »
Last night, I said I was going to purge my life of video games.
This has already been both easier and harder than I expected it to be. Last night, as I went through my games, I kept finding myself making arguments why a game should stay… and I had to keep forcing myself to stick to my promise. The thing that made it easier, honestly, was the fact that I made my goal public. I told the world I would do this, so I owe it not only to myself, but to anybody who stumbles across my blog. A little bit irrational? Maybe. But, so far, it’s working.
(By the way, I’m not a fan of Bob Dylan.)
It’s been a while. And boy is this a doozy for me to write. I’m about to make some admissions to the world. Admissions that I’ve only hinted at to most of the people I know in my life.
I’m purging my life.
Over the last couple of months, my life has taken some very interesting turns. It’s led to a re-examination of my priorities, and much of the clutter in my life. So, I’m purging it. Starting with my video games.
This is no small matter for me, either. I started playing games when I was 8. Maybe 3. First game I remember playing is a little number called “Dog Doo”, on a Tandy CRT. I played the hell out of that game, too. But now, it’s 22 years later. Or is it 27? I’m 30, and I’ve wasted – yes wasted – a vast majority of my life on these games. My collection of games and game systems amounts to thousands of dollars sunk into this… “hobby”.
Yesterday, my friend Michael posted an article about the (im)morality of piracy. I can’t say how much I respect his lifestyle choice with regards to this. And it’s one reason I’m writing this post.
The other is an article I read about a man who treated his mugger to dinner. No kidding.
Besides the obvious crazy-man sensationalism of the story, why is this important to me? Because it exemplifies the reasons behind my being so honest and trusting. My honesty has ended relationships before (if honesty kills a relationship, it was already doomed), kept me out of jobs and insurance policies, and carried other minor nuisances.