i was making my way though a large complex, reminiscent of the University of Milwaukee Union Hall. i made my way up a flight of restricted stairs going north and reached an elongated balcony that looked down upon the rest of the hall and had a row of south-facing ornamental doors opposite of the balcony. around the corner was a clear glass door that allowed view of a personal library, on top of each bookshelf was the name of a famous city, from which the books originated from. on the back wall was a huge and extravagant clock that not only told the time but gave a number and a city name per the time. One could use the number, city name, and time to pick out a book if indecisive to what they want to read next. 

as i gawked though the glass, i noticed a woman just out of my view and her nose in a book. she reminded me of Kobato Hanato, doll like in wardrobe and pleasantly bliss. i ducked behind a door and let her pass me without interruption  she then approached one of the prior mentioned doors to enter it, and i became cocky and rolled a red marble by her feet, hoping to make her kneel down. however, she was oblivious to the ploy and simply entered her room. 

i headed west on the balcony and found myself on a flight of stairs that literally zig-zagged. i always in-vision stairs like this, turned at 90-degree angles every flight of stairs. the stairs were crowded, but i was able to get down them into a part of the complex that looked unfinished. somehow i knew they were destroying a part of the mall and making a parking building. the construction went on westward, nothing but concrete grounds and pillars.  

okay so the dream starts in a house similar to my current residence, with me an old friend by the name of Brandon Labonne as tenants  but rather, we were servants for this old man that owned the residence.

here was the deal; we served him like a pair of gentlemanly butlers, and he provided housing and “safe haven from the dangers beyond the fog” because there was a constant fog, and beyond it was dangerous. whenever i looked out, there would be a glowing circle at the edge of the fog, reminiscent of man in the moon….

but we got suspicion that the old dude got malicious intents and shit, total crook! 

so we keep our mouths shut for like MONTHS man! from time to time we sneak to his study and ruffle around the papers on his desk, looking for clues, like Encyclopedia Brown and the mystery machine. sadly we couldn’t find any clues, and one day we were sent out to ?wash the car? change the oil? who the fuck knows. so Labonne gets straight to work on one car while i tinker up this nineteen-something-seven Cadillac Brougham-DeVile-Impala.

(does it really matter? an old Cadillac is an old Cadillac  they all had the same damn frame and the same damn engine)

thou i did know it was a convertible because the hood was down. and in the back seat was a mannequin, turns out the moon circle was this mannequin, but it wasn’t any ordinary mannequin it was a 129,600 degree laser projector that formed the fog in the first place. Labonne found out when i did and killed the old man, but by chance a couple of younglings were passing by and stopped to aid the old man, and he accused Labonne of a ruffian black man to be hanged, so i rev up the Cadi, scoop up Labonne and high tail it outta there. 

*earlier that dream i thought someone stole my walkman but it was in my pocket*

the point of the show is to catch a bully in the act and teach him a lesson thru mass humiliation and the mindset of “how would you feel if this was done to you?” 

but we got the wrong guy. we thought he stole something he didnt

Hughes had a pop at him, and a wheel chaired kid “joust-style kicked” him. 

then, me, and the host of the show catch the thief outside. the host then squirts the thief with some kind of fluid, idk if it was colored or it smelled different, but then the host says “If you do not come with us and atone for your crimes, a couple of my buddies are going to come around to mess you up” the thief runs off, taking his chances with “the couple of buddies” 

me and hughes have a friendly fight and i get a kiss from a gal named Pat’n’Archie

i really didn’t like this one as much as it fells kind of dirty at times and just a collection of all of my deepest wishes

So im out on a field, to the south i see a large hotel/convention hall.  then me and a bunch of chums start to play football(the one with your feet) and its going great, but then i notice Alec Machek, of my bullies from junior high. so i give him a glare and he buggers off. i walk off the field with a new friend i just made and we talk about how we both hate Machek. he then says “dude if you beat his ass i would happily give you like 200 bucks” so i agree. then i walk into some bushes and i tell my friend “say could you look out for me, i have to take a poo” hes got my back and while i do my duty i smell that hes smoking a blunt! so crazy! so i finish up, by coinsurance i had some wet wipes and clean myself. i zip up and not 15 seconds later a girl im crushing on walks up to me in a sweet prom dress “hey Austin, could you be my date for the masquerade dance?” i agree to that and my dream ends

no i did not soil myself 

As a warning i have never watched supernatural; i only know the base premise that Sam and Dean Winchester are supernatural hunters and they defeat spirits and creatures of all kinds. i want to apologize well in advance if this sounds like a shitty fanfic.

Me and a Cohort walk into a simple and older style house, on my hip is a curious ornamental sword with gold trim, of a European model, a large curly finger guard that connects the guard to the butt of the sword, and a blade much too thick for combat. we enter the main room of the house and there stands 3 gentleman: two younger lads who remind me strongly of Sam and Dean Winchester of the Supernatural franchise and an older fellow, possibly their father?

My cohort takes the older fellow onto the other room, but the door was open so the conversation could be heard by everyone in the house. i sauntered through the house, and for some reason draw the sword and start jabbing things with it: if i poked a mirror the sword would go through it like butter, if i swung it through a glass bottle it glided right through without any resistance. my cohort then brings me into the conversation, and points out that my sword has magical properties to cut only things of evil.

the older fellow then gives us a card with two stamps on it, which gives a price. me and the cohort ask whats this for. the older fellow says “well this was a cute little demonstration of show and tell, but what do you want us to do about it? do you want us to investigate the history of this blade? or do you want us to take this sword off your hands? we are hunters and work for pay. we have no interest in this blade” the younger looking and impulsive “Dean” then pipes up: “no interest? this could be just the sword we need to defeat him!” the Winchesters then talk among themselves about “him.” from what i could interpret him is some sort of big baddie and main antagonist of the Winchesters, and is sealed away only the Winchesters know. “Dean” then rips the sword and sheathe off my person and runs off into the street. 

and the dream ends

so I had this brilliant idea for a Kirby “boss fight” 

in the game, there is a guardian nightmare wall which is notorious for inhaling intruders and teleporting them outside the castle. My idea is that Kirby goes through a boss gauntlet and the final room is vs this nightmare wall. if Kirby loses, he would have to redo the boss fights again. 

The only way for Kirby to win is to out-inhale his foe. In recent games, Kirby obtained a.. super-suck where he can inhale  I imagine it as like an “active- cinematic”   

a long time ago i used to do dream logs, and i guess in the Spirit of Homestuck it was a dream-bubble >w< 

so in this brief dream bubble, I met up with Aranea and as it turns out she uses Bayonetkind strife-specibus. I ask her politely if i may see her weapon and it was a long white bayonet with a pearl like sheen, if i remember the title of this weapon was something like diamond dip? Diamond Dipper?

so i start swinging it around, and then i swing it at an object and a  large portion of the bayonet brakes off. Aranea is upset with me, she rips Diamond Dip out of my hand i try to apologize saying it was only an accident, and she calls me an idiot and spanks me with the flat of the blade! I then retort, “well sheesh! i thought your Dancestor was was suppose to be little miss bitchy, i guess it runs in the whole family; not my problem you alchemized yourself a glass butter knife” 

she then turns, says something like “you know what? since you 8roke it, im using your grist jerk-face” she then kicks me in the back of the knee, and in the spine forcing me to fall flat on my face. she then rummages my back pockets for gemstones and Gushers until she is satisfied she has enough material to Alchemy-repair the chip in her Bayonet. 

recently, i finished and anime by the name of Black Jack. the story follows the life of “the greatest doctor in the world, an unlicensed doctor who uses his instruments to weave the threads of life itself” Dr. Black Jack.

All of the episodes follow the same pattern, B.J. takes his daughter [child lover??] Piniko to someplace for a recreational day, then by sheer chance, somebody gets majorly injured, and only master surgeon B.J. can fix them up, but for an outrageous price. 

okay, now you got some background info, here is how my dream occurred. 

It starts out B.J. getting a request letter to go to “this place” and “fix up a broad.” B.J. comes face to face with the hostage girl and talks with her. because his doctor’s oath, he refuses to work on a patient who wishes not to be operated on. the people who kidnapped her get pissed and escort B.J. out of the complex. B.J. then gets a change of heart and decides to rescue the girl himself. 

So, B.J. dons a stereotypical ninja suit and busts into the place, he gets as far as he can sneaking around, but once the girl is in sight, he is discovered. B.J. is then forced to fight off the assailants by using his scalpels as throwing knifes, hitting his foes in critical pressure points to paralyze, or kill. he then reaches the girl, but its too late as the head honcho of the baddies has (as accurate as i can type it) surgically sliced up the girl so that if she moves a muscle, it will cause a chain reaction of all her muscles tearing off her body, thus killing her. the honcho and B.J. square off to fight, and the honcho gains the upper-hand by pinning the doctor against a wall with a sword. the doctor then makes a deal with the sliced girl that if she can knock the honcho away, the doctor will fix her free of charge and good as new. 

the girl accepts and slams a chair at the honcho, as a result her skin quickly rips off her body and her muscles expel all over the room. the doctor defeats the honcho and quickly goes to work repairing the girls critical wounds.

the scene changes and the morning sun rises, the girl comes into view, with a body stitched together with mis-matching toned skin, and a torso that looks bloated and twitching. the doctor walks over and explains that he used the flesh of the bad men he killed to reconstruct her body, and that the bloating is a result of her muscle being fully expanded, but that they will slowly contract to regular proportions over time. the girl thanks the doctor and Black Jack walks off to head home 

[1:00pm]

It begins in a Farm&Fleet store, near the cash register. My dad and I have just collected some groceries and are ready to check out. because of the few open registers, there are long lines at all registers. I walk in line to register 8, yet my father insists I go to register 1, which had a picture of a bee on its sign, most likely as some kind of pun of the “speedy bee” register. we both shout across the aisle. I am determined to stay in my line. so determined I use my dominion over the dream to change register 8 into another “speedy bee” register, with only one person before me. I check out, pay my $20 and we drive home. 

once home, Dad called me into the basement and began to quiz me. I cannot recall the exact question, but i remember the number sequence 3123 or 3.123  
 with these numbers i was to formulate a binary number. the dream ends with the number and the problem. 

I took it upon myself to figure this out, and here are my results: 

decimal      binary
3123     =  110000110011

3          =  11
123       =  1111011
321       =  10100001
3.123    =  11.0001111…

107      = 1101011
104      = 1101000

base4              base2
3123      =        11011011

[2:34]

after about an hour cranking my brain at it, i came to the conclusion that it is impossible for a binary number to have a fraction(and decimal unit) because a 1 is not divisible, whereas a 2, 3,4 and the rest of the numbers CAN be divided.

and upon further research, I have found various pages of how to convert a fractional decimal into binary and when i do formulate my decimal number, i get an endless stream of 1s and 0s. 

[3:27pm]

holey shhhhnikes ive been at this for 2 hours!!!

In any case it was another weird dream and i will stick with 3123d, which yields a real freakin’ number (110000110011b)

heeeeelloooooo darlings!!! its been forever since we’ve seen each other. And as such i have another ethereal tale to tell, so here i go~<3

[DREAM START]

The dream begins in the most strangest to appear in, a jail cell. the “memories” flood back to me, as I “realize” I have been convicted. I inquire my cell-mates, and they remind me that the two of them and I stick together and protect one another from the brutes and sex-depraved in a facility such as this.

We are then released from our cells for what believe to be some kind of “free time” in a large room. I take this time to go to the visiting hall to speak with my mother. thou i heard no words, I could look through the window and tell from her face that she was angry yet sad that her only child and “baby” was locked up. my dream memory reminds me that she visits everyday, and that she will visit me for the next 600 days, as i will be released from prison in two years time. 

After a good bye from mom and a goodnight kiss through the poly-carbon window, a jail-mate I’m familiar with pulls me aside around a corner, hands me a jumpsuit and marches me to an exit. We walk outside to a van parked on the curb. no struggle with the guards, no alarm, this Prison has the worst security. I’m in the van, yet we’re not moving. The driver (and leader of this mad escape) holds a group meeting addressing the nature of the plan:

The 4 passengers will have their eyes closed for the ride as the driver goes to 4 specific places. once their name is called, they may open their eyes and must exit their door, run to where ever they please, and must promise not to look back to keep the remaining people in the van un-jeopardized if one of us is captured and interrogated. finally, the driver will depart his van where ever he pleases and the five of us will never meet again.    

the driver then asks the group “stay in the van if you want freedom, but you are welcome to abort if you honestly think you may ruin it for all of us.” I raise my hand and say “I’m sorry guys, i only have 2 years left, i think I can survive until then. hope all succeed.” I then exit the Van and walk back to the prison, making sure I don’t see the van. I hear them speed off as I literally sneak back into jail as if I never left.

[DREAM END]

As I typed this out, I felt grateful that I sleep in a cozy and fluffy bed covered in a quilt my mother made for me, in a room decorated as i love it. I am grateful that I am allowed to eat anything I want, vote, and fire a gun at a shooting range if I feel like it. 

also, I questioned myself as to if this is what i would actually do in the scenario, if i was offered early freedom from prison, would i turn it down?