Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
There’s always a floof
looking for proof
that you really love ’em.
That you’ll give ’em food
no matter your mood
Or what you’re doin’.
A lot can be said
for sleeping with ’em in bed
at the end of a long day (or even a short one).
And they’re always presenting proof
that these loving floofs
are needed as much as they’re wanted.
My first thought was, no, not another dream of being back in the military.
Didn’t start out like that. First, I was simply running along a dirt road. Ahead was my cousin. He’s taller than me but the same age. Seeing him, I pumped up my speed until I caught him. When I did, I realized that I was wearing shorts and a shirt but I was carrying my pants, and I was bare foot. That made me laugh. I told my cousin, “I think I need to put my pants on.” I stopped and put them on.
Then, there I was in my old camouflage battle dress uniform, heading to work. Another new assignment awaited me in the dream. I looked forward to it and was encountering people along the way, happy to see me there and wishing me luck. It was snowing, and the snow began piling up fast, encouraging me to tell others, “The snow is coming down fast. I better go now.”
I rushed through the snow but the going was increasingly difficult as the snow level climbed over my thighs, to my waist. Brilliant white, the snow was beautiful, though cold. Then I was in, at work, meeting my new team, eager to begin work. I was already seeing things that needed to be changed and started directing action, confident in what I was doing.
Today is January 20, 2021, a Wednesday. Sunrise was at 7:34 AM and sunrise is coming at 5:10 PM. Between them, the weather looks hazier than yesterday but still sunny. It’s currently 34 degrees F but we expect warmer.
Congratulations to President Joe Biden, forty-sixth POTUS, and Vice-President Kamela Harris. The inauguration ceremonies in D.C. were on the television at the same time as my wife’s Zoomercise class. There’s usually seventy to eighty people present; today there were twenty-eight. The rest were off watching the inauguration, we suspect. My wife exercised but kept the television on to hear President Biden’s speech and the Vice-President’s speech, and the rest of the pomp.
I walked two miles yesterday in the late afternoon, masking when I encountered people but trying to stay to routes that let me avoid them. Going up allowed me the privilege of gazing across the valley to where sunshine bathed green and brown hills, evidence that we’re creeping out of winter and toward spring. An Oasis song from 1996, “Don’t Look Back in Anger”, came to mind and stayed with me. I thought that it should be today’s theme music.
Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don’t you know you might find
A better place to play
You said that you’d never been
But all the things that you’ve seen
Will slowly fade away
So I start a revolution from my bed
‘Cause you said the brains I had went to my head
Step outside, summertime’s in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
You ain’t ever gonna burn my heart out
h/t AZLyrics.com
Stay positive, test negative. Wear a mask. Get the vaccine, and lean forward.
Floofwreck (floofinition) – Mess created by an animal, especially a pet.
In use: “With bits of toilet paper strewn in multiple places, curtains torn down, and a garbage can tipped over, the house was a floofwreck wrought by one innocent, now drowsy, puppy.”
Floofstation (floofinition) – 1. The carrying and caring of young animals, particularly pets, by humans.
In use: “In the process known as floofstation, humans take over as caregivers for young animals, feeding them and keeping them warm, as absent mothers would do.”
2. A feeding or sleeping location for animals.
In use: “In many homes, beds aren’t used by humans in the day, and become a floofstation for pets seeking a comfortable napping site.”
3. A way location for animals using the Floof Exchange to visit or arrive from other realities and dimensions.
In use: “Floofstations aren’t visible to human senses and brains — they just lack the quantum skills necessary to see them — so humans don’t understand how animals can come and go in relative stealth and secrecy.”
This was a freaky dream, and a dark place — no sky, little light, quite dim. No wind; no sound; just me and an unseen other, who seemed above and behind me.
People were returning. I could see the inside of their heads, but it wasn’t anything graphic. Their heads were empty. What I saw was a stylized version of their skull, minus blood, nerves, brains, muscles, etc.
What I did see in their skulls was an outline. The outline was variously labeled or called, the part of their soul that they wanted to contribute, and the part of them that was searching for forgiveness.
Waves of heads following heads, eyeless, faceless, without bodies but with identities, passed me. At first, briefly, it was all very WTF for me as I looked at people — well, their heads, without their bodies, and without faces — and identified them. They weren’t people I knew, but I immediately and effortlessly identified them. An unseen mentor present helped me put it together as I, smiling and whole (the only one like that in the entire dream) said, “Oh, I see. They’re coming with offerings.” Then I had the hang of it. Identifying those outlined sections, I would estimate and declare, “She’s sharing nine percent of her soul for the effort. He’s giving five percent. This one wants to give it all — is that acceptable?” She was sent elsewhere. Apparently part of a greater effort, I was identifying them so others could collect their soul offerings.
Throwing me off at one point was that some seemed slightly different. After some mental sorting, I discovered, “Oh, she’s not offering any of her soul. She’s asking for forgiveness. But she only wants to be forty-five percent forgiven for what she’s done.” They were rarer. As these were encountered, there was sometimes communications with those people. Some of them apparently had lost their souls. They were directed to somewhere else, by the unseen other; that was not my business.
Despite the dream’s darkness and what seems like a weird subject, I stayed upbeat throughout the dream. I shiver a bit, remembering it, though.
But this dream is why the song, “Psychobabble” by The Alan Parsons Project, ruled my mind this morning.
Sunshine and wind is ruling this Ashland, Oregon, Tuesday morning. The sun rose at 7:39 AM, pushing the air temp up from last night’s low of 29 F to the current 43 F. We’re hoping to hit the mid-fifties before the sun shuts down the day’s operations at 5:10 PM.
“Psychobabble”, a 1982 Alan Parsons Project song, rules the mental musical stream this morning. “Because of dreams?” you ask. Why, yes.
Tell you ’bout a dream that I have every night
Tell you ’bout a Dream that I have every night
It ain’t kodachrome and it isn’t black and white
Take me for a fool if you feel that’s right
Well I’m Never on my own but there’s nobody in sight
I don’t know if I’m scared of the Lightning
Trying to reach me
I can’t turn to the left or the right
I’m too scared to run and I’m too weak to fight
But I don’t Care it’s all psychobabble rap to me
Tell you ’bout a dream that I have every night
It’s in dolby stereo but I never hear it right
Take me for a fool well that’s alright
Well I see the way to go But there isn’t any light
h/t to Songmeanings.com
With COVID-19 pushing out variants with higher transmission rates, hospitals staggering under their loads, and the global death count over two million and still going (400,000 in the U.S. as of this morning), I’d be remiss to not remind you to stay positive, test negative, and wear a mask. Get a vaccine when it comes your way, too.
Enjoy the music.
Michael Seidel, writer 