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Underneath sand on the beaches like a plague of topless locusts
I slept eight hours last night, but I do not appreciate that my brain used the time to concoct a dream specifically tailored to upset me: a field trip to a museum where all the tableaux were constructed with preserved and posed corpses. It was especially unpleasant because I would otherwise have enjoyed one of the special exhibits—a history of poisoning across the ages, with examples of living plants and deposits of minerals—if it hadn't been illustrated with dead bodies, not only of the appropriate demise, but all the living tasks as well. My mother thinks my brain has jettisoned all subtlety in dealing with academic trauma. And I seem to have some kind of cold on top of the sinus infection. On the bright side, Bertie Owen does not seem to have caught fire, even a little bit.
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“Was it for this, the clay grew tall?”
Disturbing images:
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5602971/amp/Real-Bodies-Exhibition-cadavers-come-Chinese-political-prisoners.html
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Last night was the first time I've had a clearly remembered dream in ages and it was just plain bizarre. I was back with Evil Aerospace, but rather than conspiring to force me out for being disabled, they'd recognised the issues and were training me up to be some sort of research analyst for the senior management team instead. I woke up going "What? Seriously, brain?"
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*hugs*
Re: “Was it for this, the clay grew tall?”
This was not even a Body Worlds-style set-up, skinless, dissected. They all looked quite intact. Just wherever you would expect a mannequin in a diorama, you had a corpse. I had not even been listening to, rewatching, or thinking of Evening Primrose (1966).
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Well, I won't read that.
I woke up going "What? Seriously, brain?"
I can see that being disorienting!
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*hugs* Brains suck. Yours is so brilliant when it's not trying to knife you in the back, though.
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Aw, you gave him a model plane to do propeller design with!
Brains suck. Yours is so brilliant when it's not trying to knife you in the back, though.
Thank you. I was hoping to do something with it today.
*hugs*
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You would think!
*hugs*
Re: “Was it for this, the clay grew tall?”
Tho’ I gather you’re speaking of crime-scene corpses, rather than Omega Man-style mummies, yet LiveJournal nowadays can remind me of such a situation…
“And these are my LJ friends!”
“… Yah, that’d be right.”
January, 2019:
I don’t understand why everyone is gone. It’s like some epidemic wiped them out, that all of my friends list is so utterly inert. Over a hundred people posting several times a week, some of them every day! - and then they all just stopped. Now their accounts show years since any activity, yet none of them are deleted; all are still “active,” in theory. Why would everyone just drop this? And never come back?
I picture a situation out of The Stand, with all these mummified hair-skull-grinning corpses sitting at ham radio sets that still hum, RF indicators still alight but showing nothing… save for one flicker.
“GSP calling CQ… GSP calling CQ… Is there anyone on the air? … Is there anyone on the air? ’Tchyo za ga’lima, Cheez Whiz - c’mon, talk to me! Who’s out there? Over!”
A small voice, like the buzz of a fly in dry dusty museum silence.
“GSP calling CQ… GSP calling CQ…”
(To which a friend replied, “The answer is one word: Facebook.”)
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There was sleep!