Feed Icon RSS 1.0 XML Feed available

Do You Believe in Aliens

Date: 12-Apr-2014/1:02:40-4:00

Tags: , , ,

Characters: mom, me, girl, friend, guy

I found myself talking to a woman who seemed a bit like a stereotypical Mexican maid, curly hair, not uniquely attractive. We were in bed together and I had this strange "backstory" conception--not lucid--that I felt I understood that she had been supposed to be cleaning but had propositioned me, and so I'd let her sleep over, even though that was odd.
She got up to leave, and we said our awkward goodbyes, and I went downstairs to find my parents there. They weren't particularly upset about it, but wanted to talk to me.
mom: "Okay, well it's not serious but that isn't the point. Now is not the time to be around girls; any girls. You just got out of the hospital. You need to focus on getting your life in order. Let's start by getting you down to no more than two drinks a day."
The scene changed somewhat to where I was in a school lecture. The lecture had ended, and people were clearing out. I got up to wander away and then had a bit of a panicked feeling like I'd left something behind, and when I returned to where I had been I saw a backpack I'd had as a child (black with a brown leather reinforced bottom) that I picked up. When I picked it up, it seemed to morph into something larger and more brightly colored and canvas-like.
I went into a hallway where other teenage-aged people seemed to be gathering. I fiddled with the velcro on the backpack, and someone resembling a high school friend of mine came up to me and pinned a small piece of velcro onto the strap.
me: "Oh, thanks."
An attractive blue-eyed blond girl wearing very pink lipstick stepped in front of me.
girl: "So can I be your girlfriend?"
me: "Ummm, okay?"
The people laughed, and my friend pointed at her lipstick.
friend: "If you're going to do that, you're not going to be able to wear that much makeup. And you can't wear those clothes either."
girl: (annoyed) "What's wrong with my clothes?"
The girl started turning her shirt inside out, compressing her breasts and showing that the inside of the top she was wearing was orange while the outside was cream colored.
friend: "Okay, now his mom is going to REALLY hate you."
We seemed to navigate down some precarious ivory-colored stairs and slid down poles into a seating area where we were gathered around a table, about eight of us, seemingly to order at a restaurant. I became lucid and looked about, and broke into a little depressed song as a guy across the table looked at me.
me: (singing) "Oh, the work... there's so much of it to do..."
guy: (singing back) "And so much of it I get wrong..."
I decided to address the table.
me: "So, erm. Do you guys happen to believe that it is possible for aliens to take over someone's mind, and talk to you through someone you know?"
girl: "Absolutely. Happens all the time."
me: "Oh. Well, okay. Hi, I might be such an alien, but I'm not evil! My name is Brian. Erm... well, you guys have been calling me Brian in this conversation but I don't really know if we're on the same page about that. When I say it, it looks like this."
I traced onto the table with my finger the letters B-R-I-A-N.
guy: (watching) "Which is... spelled exactly how it sounds."
me: "One never knows. It could be translated. Me tracing that outline could be translated. It never hurts to check. But anyway, who are all of you?"
I began going through the table, shaking hands with people and getting their names. They were odd ones that I remembered upon awakening but I have waited too long to write this down to remember them. Vague gist would be something like "Wemetrius", that kind of oddity.
A waiter came to the table and kind of interrupted the introductions. I ignored him to try and resume, but by the time I'd tried to go on to the fourth person, there was a sudden instance of an animated arm that jumped out from the guy sitting across the table to the farthest left. The arm braced around my neck and strangled me and I awoke.
Currently I am experimenting with using Disqus for comments, however it is configured that you don't have to log in or tie it to an account. Simply check the "I'd rather post as a guest" button after clicking in the spot to type in a name.
comments powered by Disqus
copy write %C:/0304-1020 {Met^(00C6)ducation}

The accounts written here are as true as I can manage. While the words are my own, they are not independent creative works of fiction —in any intentional way. Thus I do not consider the material to be protected by anything, other than that you'd have to be crazy to want to try and use it for genuine purposes (much less disingenuous ones!) But who's to say?